Holiday situationship, p.1
Holiday Situationship, page 1
HOLIDAY SITUATIONSHIP
It’s Complicated
A multi-author collaboration series
Piper Cook
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are used fictitiously.
Copyright © Piper Cook – All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
HOLIDAY SITUATIONSHIP
HOLIDAY SITUATIONSHIP
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
EPILOGUE
ALSO AVAILABLE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
HOLIDAY SITUATIONSHIP
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Rules of life: Don’t lie to your boss, and never fall in love with your best friend.
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Sam has been my go-to guy since we were kids. He was my first, for all the big milestones of life. The first to protect me from playground bullies. The first boy to take me to a school dance. My first kiss on New Year’s Eve. My first drunken mistake when I turned twenty-one. One night of careless flirting led to a morning after filled with regret.
At least that’s what I said. I couldn’t risk our friendship by confessing my true feelings. I’m head over heels in love with Sam, but I’m sure he doesn’t feel the same about me.
Our situationship is complicated. We’re more than friends, less than lovers, but somewhere in between.
Our friendship is about to be tested again when my boss hosts a holiday weekend at a couples only retreat. Will a weekend pretending to be a couple be the incentive I need to tell Sam my true feelings, or will fear keep us from unwrapping the greatest gift of all?
friends to lovers, second chance, fake relationship, close proximity, holiday rom-com, with a small town vibe.
♥♥♥
If you’re a hopeful romantic at heart and love steamy, short, swoony love stories, then these situationship love stories are perfect for you. It’s Complicated is an instalove, rom-com, multi-author series. Guaranteed happy endings without cliffhangers.
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HOLIDAY SITUATIONSHIP is part of the IT’S COMPLICATED multi-author collaboration series. Read all the books in the series here: https://geni.us/itscomplicated
HOLIDAY SITUATIONSHIP
***
Sam has been my go-to guy since we were kids. He was my first for all the big milestones of life. The first to protect me from playground bullies. The first boy to take me to a school dance. My first kiss on New Year’s Eve. My first drunken mistake when I turned twenty-one. One night of careless flirting led to a morning after filled with regret.
At least that’s what I said. I couldn’t risk our friendship by confessing my true feelings. I’m head over heels in love with Sam, but I’m sure he doesn’t feel the same about me.
Our situationship is complicated. We’re more than friends, less than lovers, but somewhere in between.
Our friendship is about to be tested again when my boss hosts a holiday weekend at a couples only retreat. Will a weekend pretending to be a couple be the incentive I need to tell Sam my true feelings, or will fear keep us from unwrapping the greatest gift of all?
friends to lovers, second chance, fake relationship, close proximity, holiday rom-com, with a small town vibe.
CHAPTER 1
***
Sam
I lie awake, staring at the ceiling as the pale light of dawn seeps through the curtains. I close my heavy lids, hoping for sleep to claim, but my mind is restless, unable to settle after a night of tossing and turning. I quietly reach for my phone on the nightstand, trying not to disturb the silence. The screen flickers to life, and I confirm the time with tired, scratchy eyes.
Chastity, my girlfriend of four months, stirs beside me. She turns and drapes her hand over my chest. My shoulders tense and I hold my breath waiting for her to settle back into a deep sleep.
By anyone's standards, Chastity's supermodel beautiful—leggy, tall, with striking blonde hair that falls perfectly when she’s awake. But in the early morning, her hair’s a tangled mess, with strands sticking out in different directions. I’d find her disheveled appearance endearing and down-to-earth but she’s anything but that. Chastity’s too self-absorbed with her appearance to step into public without every strand of hair in place, her makeup flawless, and her outfit immaculate.
Chastity snuffles lightly, something else I’d consider cute if she weren’t so belligerent about it. She refuses to believe she snores even the tiniest bit. Teasing her in a playful manner about it isn’t worth the headache. She shifts her head and snuffles again, deeper this time. I clasp her wrist between my forefinger and thumb, lifting her hand gently off my chest, then slowly ease out of bed.
I clutch my phone and stare at the picture of the two of us from a party she dragged me to a few months ago. It was a who’s who event for those who love to be seen. I’ve never heard so much name-dropping in my life. Chastity insisted the photo be our relationship-official social media picture, but it’s more of a snapshot of all the things that are wrong with us. On paper, we’re the perfect match. In real life, our relationship is rocky and unstable.
I pad downstairs to the kitchen for a cup of coffee to clear my head. I grab my favorite mug from the cabinet–the one my best friend, Annie, gifted to me when I landed my first job as a software developer seven years ago. It reads, “You’re my missing semicolon.” When she graduated with her bachelor’s degree, I in turn gifted her a coffee mug that read, “You’re the SEO to my HTML.” Annie gets nerdy me. It’s why we’ve been best friends since we were kids.
If it weren’t so early, I’d call her. She always knows what to say to help me unravel what’s bothering me. But it isn’t fair to unload the fight with Chastity on her—especially since it revolved around our friendship. Chastity’s been jealous of Annie since the day she met her. I’ve done my best to accommodate her by spending less time with Annie, but I know in my gut that Chastity won’t be happy unless I cut Annie out of my life completely. But I can’t do that. Not with the history we’ve had.
I pocket the phone and pour my coffee, then slip outside to the deck for a breath of fresh air. My condo faces a wooded area where white-tailed deer forage for food and great horned owls perch quietly in the trees. The bare branches of deciduous trees stretch out like intricate lacework against the pale sky, each twig delicately coated with a layer of powdery snow. Nearby, the evergreen and fir trees stand majestically, their branches topped with a soft blanket of snow, resembling perfectly flocked Christmas trees–Annie’s favorite holiday.
Annie again. No matter where my thoughts start, they always circle back to her. I shake my head, knowing I have no business thinking about her with Chastity asleep in the other room. Blowing the steam from my coffee, I take a sip, trying to push those thoughts aside.
The deck door slides open behind me. I turn to find Chastity standing in the doorway with her face scrunched like a mad baby. She places her hands on her hips, clearly annoyed. Her full, pouty lips twist into a frown. Even in anger, her facial features are striking, with a model's symmetry and eyes that any sane man would get lost in. She's beautiful in a way that's easy to appreciate, yet something's missing—a spark, a spontaneity that makes me feel alive. As much as I care about Chastity, it's not the same effortless connection and history I have with Annie. I shake off the thought, feeling a twinge of guilt, and snap back to the present.
“Hey sleepyhead.” The words are barely out of my mouth, and I already sense I’ve screwed something up.
“Sleepyhead. Am I not pretty enough for you?” Her eyes land on my coffee mug, and she shoots me an accusatory look. “Or do you think I’m lazy because I slept later than you?”
“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that,” I say quickly, raising my hands in surrender. I step closer to her, softening my tone. “You look great, Chastity.”
I scramble to find the right words, hoping to diffuse the situation before it escalates. I offer a reassuring smile, hoping it conveys sincerity. “I know you work hard and deserve a little extra rest. I'm sorry if what I said came out wrong.”
I reach for her hand, hoping the gesture will reassure her. “Let’s just enjoy the morning, okay? I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You forgot, didn’t you?” Chastity says, her lips forming a perfect pout. She crosses her arms and shifts her weight to one hip, her foot tapping impatiently on the deck.
I blink, confused by her accusation. My mind races, desperately trying to remember what I might have forgotten, but I draw a blank. My heart sinks as I realize I have no clue what she's talking about.
“Everything’s wrong, Sam,” she whimpers, her voice tinged with hurt. “It’s obvious you don’t care about me, or you would have remembered it’s my birthday. I bet you never forget her birthday.”
Crap. Chastity’s birthday. How could I have forgotten? My stomach twists with guilt. I added her birthday to my calendar, didn’t I? I must have gotten sidetracked, caught up with work.
“I woke up, and you were gone,” she continues, her eyes fiery with anger as she eyes the coffee mug fisted in my hand. “I smelled coffee and thought you were making me breakfast in bed. I waited, but you didn’t even bother bringing me a lousy cup of coffee.”
My shoulders slump as I absorb the weight of her disappointment. I step closer, trying to bridge the gap between us. “Chastity, I’m really sorry. I messed up. Let me make it up to you. I’ll whip up breakfast right now.”
My mind whirls with regret and frustration. How could I be so careless? A good boyfriend would have remembered. But she’s right about Annie, I never forget her birthday. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, banishing Annie from my thoughts.
“Please, I want to make today special for you.” I reach for her, but she rebuffs me.
Her expression hardens as she takes a step back, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. Her eyes narrow, and tension radiates off her in waves.
“I'm done, Sam,” she says, her voice flat and final. She stiffens like she's building a wall between us, one I can't scale, nor do I want to.
“This relationship is over.” She turns on her heel abruptly, heading back inside the condo without looking back. Just as she reaches the door, she stops and throws a glance over her shoulder, her gaze piercing and expectant.
“And don’t follow me in to try and change my mind. I’m leaving as soon as I have time to fix my hair and makeup,” she says, her voice dripping with disdain. “I can't leave here looking like this.”
With that, she disappears inside, leaving me standing on the deck, stunned and somewhat relieved. Part of me feels like I should make an effort to go after her and smooth things over somehow. I don't want her to feel bad, but the words won't come, and my feet stay rooted to the wooden deck.
A door slams inside, and I let out a relieved sigh. There’s only one person who can help me make sense of the chaos swirling in my head.
I pull out my phone and call Annie.
***
Annie
I’m cocooned in blankets, when the shrill ring of my phone pierces the quiet morning. My fingers grope the nightstand, searching to quiet the source of irritation. I lift the corner of my eye mask and instantly regret it. Bright morning light pours through the transom window. I wince and cover my eyes as I grab the phone.
“Hello,” I scrape out with a husky morning voice, the haze of sleep clinging to my brain like cobwebs in an old, dusty attic.
“Hey, Annie,” Sam says too brightly, not quite masking an underlying strain. “Hope I didn’t wake you.”
His attempt at cheerfulness falters. I’ve known Sam long enough to know when he’s trying to hide something. I bolt upright and slide the eyemask to my forehead. Dazzling light hits me like a spotlight, making it hard to focus. I blink the shimmering brightness away as it abrades my sleep-addled brain.
“No. I mean, yes. I was asleep but should have been up hours ago.” I pull the phone away from my ear, checking the time. Way too early for a Sunday.
Sam chuckles. “Since when do you get out of bed before noon on a Sunday?”
“If you know so much about my sleep schedule, then why are you calling so early?” I scrunch my nose. He knows me too well.
I throw the covers back, slide my feet into my bunny slippers, and shuffle to the bathroom to check myself in the mirror. My hair’s a tousled mess, strands sticking out at odd angles like a messy bird’s nest. I squint at my reflection. Sleep lines crease my drool-crusted cheek. I brush a hand through my tangled hair, shaking off the remnants of sleep, and try to see past the imperfections.
“Just figured I’d see if you were up for breakfast or something.” Sam lets out a small humorless laugh. “You know, see what my favorite morning grump is up to.”
Favorite morning grump. I smile, despite my disheveled state. I wouldn’t be so grumpy in the mornings if we were waking up together, but I push the thought aside. As much as I’d love to be more than just friends, I’m content to be Sam’s favorite anything.
“It isn’t like you to be without a breakfast date on Sunday morning.” I frown and grab a toothbrush as visions of Sam’s girlfriend come to mind. She’s glamorous and effortlessly beautiful, whereas I’m simple, understated, and ordinary. “Does your latest super model not eat?”
I cringe as the words slip out, regretting the comment immediately. My sarcasm betrays the ugly green monster I try so hard to keep hidden. It isn’t Sam’s fault women are drawn to him. He’s good-looking and tall with broad shoulders and an athletic build. If that weren’t enough, his expressive eyes and a warm smile draw women in like flies. He’s comfortable in his own skin, naturally charming, and a total nerd at heart.
“Chastity broke up with me this morning.” Sam’s voice drops to a subdued tone, the forced cheerfulness gone. “She’s glamming up to leave right now.”
“I’m sorry, Sam.”
A pang of guilt hits me in the gut for poking fun of Chastity. As sad as I am that Sam’s been sucker punched by another girlfriend, a small flicker of hope ripples through me. Maybe one of these days he’ll see me as girlfriend material, and I’ll finally get out of the friend zone.
“I forgot her birthday.” There’s an edge of disbelief in his tone, as if he’s still processing the oversight.
It’s the kind of resigned frustration that comes from realizing a mistake too late. Like the drunken mistake we made on my birthday the year I turned twenty-one. Too much flirting and a lot of tequila shots led us to cross the line from friends to something more, but not enough. It was a mistake we’ve never talked about, a moment lost to the fog of inebriation and unspoken feelings.
“It’s not too late. You could send her flowers or something,” I suggest as part of me wishes it were that simple for us.
Would things be different if we’d confronted that night head-on instead of burying it? I was too scared to risk our friendship, too afraid to admit my true feelings for Sam went beyond being his gal pal. If I’d confessed, Sam and I might not be the best friends we are now.
“Nah, things weren’t going that well anyway. This was bound to happen sooner or later.” A subtle tinge of nonchalance creeps into his voice–a hint of relief, suggesting he’d like to change the subject. “I’m tired of all of it.”
“All of it?” I echo, unsure of what he means. My brow furrows as I try to read between the lines. Is he talking about more than his fractured relationship with Chastity?
I pad to the closet and push aside hangers, searching for something to wear. I grab a sweater and jeans, waiting for his response.
“You know, dating–meeting someone new, learning their likes and dislikes.” His voice lacks enthusiasm, not the outgoing Sam I know. “The whole shebang.”
My breath catches, and I’m frozen in place with one leg slipped through the leg of my jeans and the sweater hanging forgotten in my hands. I don’t dare allow myself to think what this could mean for us. Just thinking about it could jinx the possibility.
“Yeah, I get that,” I say, aiming for a casual tone. “I feel the same. It’s a lot of work getting to know someone new.”
I pause, hoping the subtle hint lands because, truthfully, the thought of starting fresh with a stranger seems daunting when I’m constantly comparing every potential date to Sam.
“We’ll be dateless together,” I suggest with a light laugh. “We’ll be each other’s backup plan, you know, two single rebels against the dating scene.”
“I can’t drag you down with me.” Sam chuckles, but the halfhearted edge in his tone returns. “You should get yourself out there, have some fun. You never know when you’ll find your soulmate.”
But I’ve already found my soulmate. My heart sinks a little, resigned to the fact that Sam Doesn’t feel the same about me. I force a smile, keeping my tone upbeat. “Maybe I should.”
