by Sierra Hill
The Waiting Game
A friends-to-lovers story
Sierra Hill
Ten28 Publishing
Contents
Other Books by Sierra Hill
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
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Copyright © 2019 Sierra Hill
Published by Ten28 Publishing
2nd Edition 2020
Cover Design: Q Design
All rights reserved.
Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without prior written permission by the author, except where permitted by law. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected].
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or used factiously, and any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, business establishments, or educational systems is entirely coincidental.
All products and/or brand names mentioned are registered trademarks of their respective holders/companies/institutions.
Created with Vellum
Dedication
To my husband,
At 16, you teased me unmercifully.
At 18, you asked me out.
At 19, you told me you loved me.
At 24, you promised me forever.
And 30 years later, you’re still my best friend and you make me laugh every day.
Thanks for escaping the friend zone for me.
Other Books by Sierra Hill
Courting Love (College Sports)
Full Court Press
The Rebound
Pivot
Fast Break
Jump Shot
Change of Hearts (A College Campus Series)
Game Changer (Book #1)
Coming Soon - Change in Strategy (Book #1)
The Physical Series
Physical Touch
More Than Physical
Physical Distraction
Physical Connection
Standalones and Short Stories
One More Minute With You
The Reunion
Character Flaws
His Fairytale Princess
Whipped: A Second Helpings Story
Resolution: Road Trip (A Resolution Pact Story)
Be Patient – The Waiting Game (An Escaping the Friend Zone Novella)
Spring Break Navy SEAL
Her True Blue (A Fireworks Series)
Cowboy’s Kiss
Finding Her Way boxset
Reckless – The Smoky Mountain Trio serial
Reckless Youth
Reckless Abandon
Reckless Hearts
Reckless – The Smoky Mountain trio boxset
Leave Me Breathless: The Black Rose Collection Anthology
https://books2read.com/LMBBlackRoseCollection
Prologue
2 Years Earlier
Deacon
The drive from Hillside Cliffs to Portland is typically an easy, relaxing and uncomplicated two-hour drive. But with today being the start of a summer holiday weekend, the traffic is heavier than usual. Which makes my normal happy mood sour with crankiness and I’m exhibiting a bit more impatience than normal.
Everything was thrown off today with my schedule. Although I’d planned to leave right after lunch when my part-time staff showed up, I ended up leaving later than expected due to a billing error that my bookkeeper (aka: mom) found and that I had to resolve before the weekend.
Having taken over our family-run store from my dad after college graduation, I was now solely responsible for everything that happened at Powell’s Surf Shop & Sports.
Got a shipment delay? That would be my responsibility to handle. Short-handed during a summer weekend? I need to be on duty. And billing problems? Yeah, that lands in my lap, too.
Not that I mind any of it, because I love our rental shop and the fact that my parents trusted me enough to hand over the business after I graduated. The one and only negative about running the store entirely on my own is that my weekends tend to be locked up with the store, especially during the summer months when our business is booming in our small seaside community.
So, this trip to Portland for my best friend Ellie’s graduation party, was carefully planned and orchestrated so my absence over the weekend wouldn’t be a problem.
Because there was no frigging way I was going to break my promise to my best girl on her special weekend.
And I always keep my promises. I’ve been doing it since we were in high school, when at the time I was in a relationship with her best friend, Kari. But what I thought was love with Kari ended up being nothing more than lust, and the minute she moved to Seattle and we broke it off, I moved on.
But my friendship with Elle lasted. Although we attended different colleges, we were close enough to see each other frequently. And during holidays and summers when we were both back home in Hillside Cliffs, we’d hang out and bond over our love of the outdoors, ocean swimming and hiking.
The girl really is my best friend. And I know what they say, that men can’t be friends with women because of our sexual makeup and nature of attraction, blah-dee-blah-blah. But it really does work for Ellie and me. We have so much in common and enjoy each other’s company. It’s just natural.
Now, that’s not to say I haven’t thought of her in that way from time to time. Because duh, I’m a dude. My dick has definitely been interested in sex on more than one occasion, especially when she wears those tiny bikinis in the summer. It’s not like I have haven’t noticed how firm and supple her tits are, or the silkiness of her toned thighs and her amazing ass.
I’ve just always played it safe with Ellie. The timing hasn’t been right and even when I’ve considered potentially making a move, it scared the shit out of me to think I could lose her friendship over doing something stupid like trying to get in her pants.
Instead, we’ve each looked to other people for that type of relationship, and we’ve kept our relationship strictly platonic.
I park the car in the lot of the country bar and pub where Ellie is hosting her shindig tonight and step out into the cool early summer evening. The sounds of loud country twang lifts my spirits and I stretch my arms over my head, bending to each side to work out the kinks in my back.
As I near the door to the bar where a bouncer sits perched on his high stool checking ID’s, I see a cluster of three guys and a girl over in the corner taking a smoke break. I recognize one of the guys as Tom, a friend of Ellie’s.
I nod and say hello. “Hey man, good to see you.”
We clasp each other’s hand and go in for a brief bro-hug.
He has the distinct smell of weed to his hair and clothes, which I don’t care about, because Ellie and I have had our share of high times in the past, too.
“Have you seen Ellie around in there?”
He hooks a thumb toward the door. “Yeah man, she’s on the dance floor shaking her thing. She’s been
waiting for you.”
This makes me smile. I know I’m much later than I’d planned to be tonight, and I figured she’d be pretty buzzed and happy by the time I got here, but I’m glad to know she’s just as excited to see me as I am of her.
I show the bouncer my license and step into the dimly lit and very hot pub. I’m guessing if the fire marshal stopped by unexpectedly, there would be some serious code violations happening. But in this part of town where the businesses thrive because of the college scene, it’s often overlooked.
My eyes scan the crowd in search of my very tall, blonde-headed friend. I spot her almost immediately, not for any reason other than she’s like a beacon of light, a burst of sunshine across a darkened sky. The moment she sees me, she throws her hands in the air and runs toward me full speed.
I’m ready to catch her with open arms as she barrels into me. I wrap my arms around her slender body and lift her feet off the ground to twirl her around.
“Hey, Ellie Belly full of jelly,” I croon against her cheek, using the nickname I bestowed upon her years ago.
I squeeze her tightly against my chest and inhale the light, sweet scent of her shampoo, her face nuzzling against my neck. She wraps her arms around my nape as she slides down my torso and lands on her feet.
Something electrifying happens, jolting me like a thousand watts, as her breasts push against my chest, the shape of her nipples pebbling hard under the material of her T-shirt.
“My buddy Deacon is finally here!” She says this with a slight slur in her speech and I shake my head, letting my hands slide to her hips. “Now we can get the party started.”
I pop her on the end of her cute nose with my fingertip and she wrinkles it in distaste. “It seems you may have already gotten things going pretty well without me.”
She steps back from me, swaying a bit on her feet as I help steady her stance. She flicks a hand in front of my face before cupping my cheeks in her palms.
They feel warm and soft against the stubble of my short beard and I happily lean into the curve.
“I may have had a few yummy drinks, but it’s all good. And Sarina made me do shots…” She giggles, her shoulders jiggling as a hand flies up to cover her mouth, her bright green eyes growing wide.
I look around behind her to find her college roommate, Sarina, hoisting a shot in the air at the bar, looking in our direction.
“Come join us, Deacon!” she yells to me before throwing back what looks like a double-dose of Tequila.
I lift an eyebrow and grin back down at Ellie. “Okay, party girl. Let’s do it.”
Ellie slides her arm in the crook of mine and leans in automatically, our shoulders pushed together as her head lands against my bicep. As if our bodies just need to be close.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Deac. I’ve missed you.”
“The feeling is mutual, Ellie Belly. Now let’s have some fun.”
An hour later, and a few beers in – and maybe a shot or two – we’re all feeling pretty loose and happy. Sarina, her boyfriend Tao, and Ellie are all out on the dance floor while I remain at the bar chilling and talking with one of her friends from school. I know most of them pretty well because before I graduated, we’d hang out a lot on weekends.
“Deac, when are you going to do something about that?” Quinn asks me, as both our gazes remain focused out over the sea of dancing bodies.
The bottle of beer that’s just about to my lips stops before it reaches my mouth and I turn to give him a ‘what the fuck you talking about?’ look.
He rolls his dark eyes at me. “For fuck’s sake, dude. You’ve got it bad for that girl and vice versa.”
I shake my head persistently. “Nah, man. We’re just good friends.”
My eyes return to Ellie who is now dancing with some guy who’s all up in her business. Although in the state she’s in, she doesn’t seem to even realize that he’s in her personal space and practically mauling her.
Quinn continues. “You two are always macking on each other, being all touchy-feely, laughing at these inside jokes nobody else gets. We’re all confused why you aren’t a couple yet. We don’t get it.”
His comment jolts me stone sober, even with the light buzzing of alcohol running through my system. “Who is we, exactly? And I have no idea what you mean.”
Quinn points between me and Ellie, who is now looking a little distressed and talking seriously with the douchebag dancing with her. My intuition and radar are on high alert and I don’t let my gaze wander from her as I respond to Quinn.
“I should go save her,” I mumble, not really answering his question, but kind of proving his point.
“Exactly that. Go get her, man.” Quinn grabs his beer and wanders off, as I instinctively begin pushing my way through the crowd until I’m at Ellie’s side.
I lean down and whisper-yell in her ear over the loud voices and noise. “You okay, Elle?”
Without a verbal response, she grabs the material of my gray T-shirt and pulls me into her, leading me in a slow-moving dance.
I’m not that big into country music, but the song that’s now playing is a slower ballad by Dan + Shay with Justin Bieber about 10,000 Hours. The words they sing seem to hit me hard tonight for some reason. And dancing close like this with Ellie feels so natural. Maybe it’s just the booze talking or the freedom of being out socially this weekend instead of stuck at the store, but it feels really, really good.
We’re like this for quite some time, just swaying in time to the music, our bodies loose from the alcohol and hot and sweaty from the tight space with this crowd of people.
“Deacon,” Ellie says, her cheek against my chest. I can barely hear her, so I pull back a little and lift her chin up with my thumb, so her face is lifted toward mine.
Bending down closer, our faces just inches from each other, I move my mouth to her ear.
“What is it, Elle? What do you need?”
There’s a blast of music as the song changes course, just as she says what I think sounds like, “You.”
But that can’t be. I must have heard her wrong.
I jerk my head back again and stare at her eyes, asking her without words if she said what I think she said. My gaze moves lower to her lips. She licks them invitingly.
Ah, fuck it.
Maybe what others have seen and witnessed between us really is there. Maybe I’ve been hiding my true feelings all this time for fear that Elle would reject me as anything other than a friend.
I rub my lips together, as I lower my hands to the curve of Ellie’s back. I’m still for just a moment longer, adjusting to what I’m considering doing, when I bend down to kiss my best friend on the lips.
To hell with the consequences.
She blinks, and then closes her eyes, tilting her head just slightly to the side and parting her lips.
I’m so ready.
And then, BAM.
Some drunk fucking asshole slams into my back, spilling his beer all over us and falling onto the ground in a heap, eliciting shrieks from the crowd, and dislodging Ellie from my hold.
And just like that, the moment is ruined, and my time is up.
I’m left right back to where I started the night.
In the mother fucking friend zone.
1
Ellie
If I had to describe my life in one simple sentence, it would be ‘hurry up and wait.’
Graduating college two years ago, I thought I’d be on my way and full speed ahead toward a promising career and future. I’d started a job as a marketing analyst for a tech start-up in Portland, shared a great apartment with my roommate and was still going strong with my boyfriend of two years.
And then it all took a severe nosedive and went to hell in a handbasket.
So here I am back in my hometown of Hillside Cliffs with no job, living with my parents again (which no twenty-four-year old ever wants to do) and in search of a new job in hopes of getting back on track to that future I’d envisioned.
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My mother, of course, was thrilled at the prospect of having me back home, offering me positive words of encouragement, like, “Life takes time. It’ll come to you, Ellie.” Or something along the lines of, “All good things come to those who wait. Just keep your chin up and that beautiful smile on your face.”
That smile, however, quickly vanishes when you feel your sense of worth has been stomped on like a grape. So here I sit, in the coffee shop in town, wallowing in my ineptitude over a breakfast sandwich while I wait for my buddy, Deacon Powell, to show up for our morning coffee date.
“Morning, Ellie Belly-full-of-Jelly.”
My eyes pop up from my iPad, blurry from scanning the job listings for too long to find Deacon’s amused face. He dips his head and kisses me on the top of my head before grabbing the coffee out of my hand and taking a gigantic swig.
“Hey,” I grouse, seizing it back from his moocher grip. “Get your own. I’m poor and unemployed.”
His lumberjack-built body stands tall at around six-foot-two, hovering over the table in front of me where I’ve been parked the last hour, sipping coffee and waiting for something good to pop up.
Deacon pulls out the chair and plunks down, stretching out his long legs before crossing one over the other with relaxed ease.
Rolling my eyes at the stupid nickname he gave me in high school and the one he continues to use just to rile me up, I ignore his comment and sip my coffee.