At the Stroke of Midnight: A Best Friends to Lovers New Year’s Eve Romance

by Ember Flint

  I smile a little.

  One minute Seth was one of the most important people in my life, my best friend —sometimes my only real friend—, someone I loved dearly and the next… well, the next nothing really changed: all those things were still true, only I also wanted to sleep with him.

  The surge of attraction was like a volcanic explosion, so strong it left me blindsided for a moment.

  The kiss made me tremble, cry, laugh inside, feel safe and afraid of the unknown all at once and I had to stop myself during the night from marching into his room and throwing myself in his arms.

  And after a sleepless night, during which not even the company of Jane Austen could distract me from thoughts of him, I found a clarity that scared me even more; the only problem is I don’t know what to do with this information.

  I don’t know what’s the right thing to do anymore.

  I know what my heart is telling me, I hear it loud and clear, but I also know how much this newfound knowledge could harm our relationship.

  I feel like a stupid now: I should have known my heart so much better than I did until yesterday night!

  I mean, for one thing, I never liked his girlfriends —not even one of them— and I can’t help but wonder at my motives now.

  I was worried that he could get hurt. I was sure they were nothing but users and social climbers, but was that all or was there more?

  Was I jealous of them? Of Gillian?

  Sure they were all, internationally-ranked, world-class bitches and that made it easy for me to be wary of them, but what if Seth had had more luck?

  What if one of them had been nice?

  How would I have felt then?

  Would I have liked them?

  Would I have hated them the same?

  Would I have been able to be objective, impartial?

  Or would I have loathed them anyway because they held the power to take him away from me?

  And what about him?

  He’s always been very protective of me, but I have to wonder at that as well.

  My only two boyfriends were utter jerks, it’s a fact, but now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure his dislike of them was fixed even before they started to act like complete bastards to me.

  I always told myself that, as a man, he was able to see a side of them that I could not and maybe it’s even true, but maybe there was more to it.

  Was he protective of me because in some way, at some level, he knew?

  Knew that I was his?

  Knew that I wanted to be his?

  Did my heart always know what my mind and body have denied for so long?

  Do I just love him or am I in love with him?

  I’ve read ‘Emma’ a million times and yet I could not see how that situation could apply to our own?

  Have I —we— really been so blind?

  Are we just like Emma and Mr Knightley in a way?

  Too in love with each other to see what’s always been in front of us?

  I am. Am I not?

  In love with him…

  Utterly and completely.

  I can now see clearly that this love was always there, hidden in my soul so deep I could not reach it, I could not tap into it, yet it still kept me tethered to him in every moment of my life.

  There’s no embrace I could feel safer in than Seth’s, not even my dad’s, there’s no voice that can calm me so effectively when I’m upset, no other presence I wish near me when I’m sad, no person’s happiness means more to me than his.

  There’s no one I know better, no one who knows me better, there’s no one else I could share myself with, there never was.

  That’s why I never even tried.

  That’s why there was never a spark, there could not be one.

  I was all sparked-out already, only I didn’t know it.

  There was no bad luck, just blindness. Nothing more, but I can’t help but worry.

  What if in trying to gain something else, we lose what we have?

  —*—

  “Miss Evelyn?”

  I startle out of my thoughts when I see my driver looking down at me as he stands near the car, holding the door open for me.

  I’m so far gone, I didn’t even realize we had stopped.

  I give him a tight smile and climb out. “Thank you, Steven. I won’t be more than half an hour. You’re welcome to step inside if you wish or go have a coffee or something nearby. I’ll text when I’m ready to go.”

  He nods, taking off his black hat. “Very well, madam.”

  I walk into the hall of the building and wave at the doorman before I step inside the elevator, keying in the code for the penthouse.

  I brace myself for what’s about to come.

  If I’m lucky, I can put Seth off a little bit longer and can avoid the talk for now, but I still will have to see him and speak with him if he’s already inside and I don’t know if I can keep it together long enough to accomplish that.

  I heave a big sigh as the elevator opens into the loft and I stagger back at the sheer intensity of the activity buzzing around me. There have to be nearly fifty people running up and down the main hall, all of them rushing in different direction carrying something, talking loudly, gesticulating.

  It looks more like I’m standing at a busy intersection, than inside a flat and in the middle of it all, I can see Seth’s mother trying to give her attention to all the people clamoring to talk with her all at once.

  She’s holding her tablet in one hand, a stack of papers in the other, there’s a headset around her neck and a phone trapped between her ear and her shoulder and of course there’s a walkie-talkie hanging from her elbow, the radio static coming out of it providing another layer of noise that adds to the general hullabaloo.

  I swear I don’t know how is it that she’s not running out of here screaming.

  I call her name, but there’s no way she could hear me in the din so I cram myself into the crowd and tap her arm.

  She turns to look in my direction with a relieved smile forming on her lips and I feel like a bitch for having left her alone to deal with all this madness.

  She steps closer to me.

  “I’m going to change and then I’ll go pick up the set, okay?” I whisper to her.

  She nods. “Thank you, honey.”

  “Where’s the glass I’m supposed to use as frame of reference?”

  “Your bedroom,” she tells me and turns to speak to someone else for a minute.

  “No, no, not in the living room!”

  She turns toward me again. “What would I do with 500 red poinsettias? Are you crazy? The color motif is gold, white and blue!” she barks and I frown at her. Until I realize she’s talking into her phone and not to me.

  I clasp her arm. “Do you need anything else?”

  She shakes her head. “No, darling, thank you. Just make sure you have the set delivered no later than tonight at seven, okay?”

  I start to answer in the affirmative, but I stop myself when I see the chef move past some people, nearly sending a waitress holding a stack of dishes tumbling down the floor, then step between us screaming about something being wrong with his vanilla beans.

  I shake my head and try to move away from the hot spot, but with so many people going up and down it still takes me about five minutes to reach a calmer location in the loft and finally manage to attain my door.

  My glee doesn’t last long because as soon as I reach the doorknob and start to turn it, I feel a hand closing forcefully around my arm, just under my shoulder.

  I tense up, because it’s an unfamiliar touch and then I’m surrounded by a smell that makes me think of a fully-loaded truck of whisky crashing into a vodka distillery.

  I turn around and I see Ross Suxon looming over me.

  “Hey, baby, I was looking all over for you…”

  Uh, baby?

  “Back off, Ross. I don’t have time for your crap
right now,” I huff, trying to shake his hand off, but it makes him grip me even more decidedly.

  “Oh come one, don’t be so difficult! It’s New Year’s Eve: don’t you want some company?”

  I look him stray in the eyes. “Not yours. Not tonight and not ever.”

  I push him away a little, but he just takes another step closer until I’m trapped between him and the door. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  He leans toward me until I can feel his breath in dire need of toothpaste on my face.

  “Whatever I want,” he says, his voice all breathy.

  I roll my eyes at him, pushing at his chest, clad in yesterday’s wrinkled shirt. “There are like one hundred people all over this place, Ross, cut down with this macho stuff and leave me alone!”

  Ugh, I really don’t need this right now!

  What do I have to do to get him to fuck off? Kick him in the balls?

  I hear the elevator doors swooshing open and before I can put my last thought into practice, I see Seth striding toward us, a furious look in his icy blue eyes, partially covered by the dark little locks of his wet hair, glued to his forehead. He’s barefoot and wearing only jeans and an undershirt.

  He was probably on the rooftop for a swim.

  He comes barreling on us and before I can utter more than a little gasp, he is grasping Ross by the back of his neck, pulling him away from me and shoving him into the opposite wall.

  “I warned you yesterday, Suxon!” he practically growls and I shake my head as I see the other guy jerk back in fear and fall on his ass.

  Did I miss a banner outside for a cavemen convention being held here or something?

  “I told you she’s not for you!” Seth grits out, bending to clasp Ross’s shoulder, little droplets of water falling from his hair and onto the other guy’s face.

  Did he know?

  “I did not see your name on her or have I missed something?” the jerk retorts and I have to conclude he is stupider than I thought or maybe he’s still drunk because no sane man would say something like that to a guy as big as Seth, especially not when he’s looking as thunderous as he is right now.

  “If you so much as look at her again, I’ll break all the 206 bones in your body at once,” he snarls into his face, pulls him up against the wall and then keeps on going until Ross’s feet are no longer touching the ground.

  All right, hot. I hope I’m honest enough to admit this much. My eyes widen at his display of possessiveness and a part of me can’t help but react to it in a way that would make any respectable feminist cross her arms over her chest and shake her head in disapproval, but I don’t care. I love his protective side. I’ve always had.

  Still, I’d better put a stop to this, before one of them ends in the ER and the other in court.

  I walk to Seth and stand on tiptoes to touch one of his arms —both still extended in front of him and keeping Ross up—, I see his hands tighten on the other’s man shoulders, his knuckles white.

  I’ve never seen him this angry in my life.

  “Seth,” I call his name softly and he immediately looks down, his glowering eyes meeting mine.

  “Put him down. He’s not worth it…”

  Seth’s jaw tenses up. “But he was—”

  “Just being an asshole,” I interrupt, squeezing his arm a little more energetically. “No harm done, please… let him go.”

  Suddenly he drops him like a sack of potatoes and steps back.

  All right, not exactly what I meant, but it would have to do.

  Seth turns toward me, his muscular chest heaving under the slightly damp, white t-shirt he’s wearing.

  Can’t he do anything anymore without turning me on? Fuck, what is wrong with me that even the way he breathes can drive me to distraction?

  I feel his arms come around me and he starts to walk us back toward my room.

  “Seth,” I whisper, looking up into his eyes. My voice is so shaky I can barely recognize it and I stop talking altogether because while I know I was going to beg for something right now, I can’t be sure what it was.

  Do I want him to kiss me or do I want him to let me go?

  He reaches behind me to open the door and pushes us both into the bedroom.

  “Evelyn,” he murmurs my name as he traps me against the wall. His hands come up from my waist to my shoulders making me shiver and then stop on my face.

  He caresses me there for what feels like an eternity, his eyes burning on my lips, his breath choppy.

  I reach up with both hands, closing them around his wrists and pulling his fingers off my cheeks.

  He takes my hands in his and brings them to his own face. His skin is chilled, the shadow of his beard wet and glistening.

  He closes his eyes at the contact. “Always so warm, Eve,” he husks, his voice gravelly and full of charcoal as if coming from deep in his chest.

  His lips fall onto mine and my legs buckle at the intense sensation searing through my body.

  I push him away a little to look into his eyes again. “Seth, please, I—”

  He shakes his head and folds his big frame over my own.

  “It’s okay, Eve. It’s just us. Let me show you,” he whispers softly in my ear.

  His hands let go of mine and I feel them running along my back and down to my ass. He easily lifts me up until I can feel his suddenly rock-hard erection press snugly against me, just where I feel the most.

  Before I can stop myself, I’m spreading my legs on either side of his waist, giving him more access.

  My arms go around his back and I hold onto him as if my life depended on this. I run my fingers up his neck and wind them into his wet hair, deepening the kiss and I hear him grunt in pleasure, his cock digging into me.

  He pushes against me even more, his hips thrusting upward as he rubs himself into the cradle of my thighs, his hands splayed on my bottom, his tongue sparring with my own as we share our very souls, kissing fervently; the passion I feel for him so overwhelming that I feel my entire body turn to jelly, liquid fire running in my veins and soaking my panties.

  “Fuck, Evelyn, how can you drive me so fucking crazy?” he grunts breaking the kiss and then dives back in for more, his lips dragging open-mouthed kisses on my neck, the big, hard bulge trapped in his damp jeans grinding against my core.

  I moan, hugging his powerful body to mine as closely as I can, but then my conscience starts to tug at me again and just as I’m about to completely lose myself, I pull back from the edge and push his searching lips away.

  “Stop, Seth, please… stop,” I manage to say, my voice shredded, my heart beating so fast in my chest it’s almost painful. “We have to stop…”

  I see his eyes fall close in misery, his forehead coming down on mine.

  “Why?” he asks, his breathing as ragged as my own.

  I slide my legs down and away from his lower body and my core, suddenly deprived of the delicious pressure of his stiff arousal, pulses in protest.

  “We need to think this through first… think it over very carefully.”

  He clasps my chin in his large hand. “I don’t need to think about it. I know what I want.”

  And I know that when he wants something there’s no stopping him, but I have to try.

  “Seth, please, understand! I need time to let these… these feelings settle. This could ruin our friendship,” I plead with him, feeling the sting of tears in my eyes.

  He shakes his head determinedly. “Nothing could ruin our relationship, Evelyn. You know I would never hurt you, don’t you?”

  I nod, tears sliding down my cheeks. “Seth…”

  I don’t even know what to say.

  He reaches up with his thumbs to brush them away. “And I know you would never hurt me. We are the same people we were yesterday, Eve, only not so blind anymore.”

  He’s right. I know he’s right, but I’m too scared to believe it could be this easy.<
br />
  I push him away. “Please, I… I need to think. I need some space,” I move away from the door and gain the center of the room, my hands over my face.

  “Space?” he asks. “From me?”

  He sounds incredulous and hurt and I want to kick both myself and him for it.

  “You were right yesterday. We need to talk, but I need a little bit of time to gather my thoughts, okay? Is it too much to ask?”

  I see that his eyes are shiny as well, he looks away and gulps. “No, no it’s not, I guess.”

  “I have to run an errand for your mom and it’s getting late…”

  He scoffs, giving me his back. “That’s a lame excuse and you know it.”

  I walk around him until I see his face and I give him a little smile, sniffling as more tears fall on my face.

  “Yeah… totally pathetic.”

  Seth nods more to himself than at me and pulls me in his arms, kissing my temple.

  “Tonight, at midnight,” he says simply and lets go of me; his eyes boring into mine one last time before he leaves.

  I pick up the Baccarat crystal glass from my nightstand, lock the door and slide down on it, until I’m sitting. I reach into my pocket to get my phone and as soon as my hands stop shaking, I snap a picture of the glass and set it on the floor in front of me.

  I know I should get going, but I need a moment to just regroup and come down from my heightened state of excitement and pain.

  Asking him to leave just now was the single, most difficult thing I’ve ever done in my life.

  I wake my phone again and tap the photo gallery.

  Hundreds of pictures of us stare back at me almost accusingly.

  I can see the love right there now, in every look, every smile, every touch of our hands.

  I want to trust that love as I always have, but this could end in so much pain if something went wrong.

  It could cost us everything we are and all the happiness we’ve ever had together, but how can I not risk everything and more for him?