Best Friends Don't Kiss

by Max Monroe

  The fact that he even did that for my dad makes my heart feel like glass, ready to shatter with each thick breath I inhale into my lungs.

  You really screwed things up this time, didn’t you? my mind taunts me. You freaked the fuck out, and instead of being a rational adult about things, you told him to leave and stormed out of the house like a child.

  I wish I could say I stand behind yesterday’s behavior and feel strongly that I handled it all correctly, but I can’t.

  After I rushed out of the house, Luke tried to call me and text me at least a hundred times. And all I did was sit in my dad’s truck in a Walmart parking lot, bawling like a baby, only sending him one single response back.

  I just need space, Luke. Just go back to New York, and we’ll talk when I get back from my sister’s wedding.

  It was horrible. All of it.

  And late last night, when I finally went back to my parents’ house and Luke’s stuff was out of my bedroom, I got one final text from him.

  I just want you to know that I’m getting ready to board a flight back to New York. It’s the last thing I want to do, but it’s what you want. And fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Ace. I wish you would just talk to me and let me explain, but I’m going to honor your request of needing space. Even though it makes me feel like I’m leaving my heart in Vermont.

  The instant I read it, everything I had just done hit me.

  And I mean, it hit me hard.

  The fact that I quite literally freaked the fuck out and turned into an impulsive, emotional mess. The fact that he was right. I was pushing him away.

  He definitely shouldn’t have lied to me about NASA, but I should’ve tried to understand why he kept that from me. I had a right to be hurt by it, but I also had the responsibility to control my emotions and not react in such a careless, rash way.

  All night last night, our fight just kept replaying in mind, and all I could do was sit on my bed and cry. Big, sobbing, wracking cries, I’m honestly shocked my mom or dad didn’t catch on to.

  “You okay, honey?” Aunt Lil asks, pulling me from my thoughts, and even though it feels like my whole entire world has ended, I force a fake smile to my lips.

  “I’m good,” I respond. “Just a little tired from all of the fun-filled days of a Guy Lucie Christmas.”

  She grins at that. “Your dad sure is something when it comes to Christmas, isn’t he?”

  “He sure is.”

  “So, your mom told me Luke might not be at the wedding,” she says, and her words make me cringe. But thankfully, her eyes are too fixated on the hem of my dress to notice my reaction.

  “Uh…yeah,” I respond and clear the cobwebs from my throat. “A pilot got sick unexpectedly, so he had to go in and help them out.”

  “Well, I hope he makes it back in time for the wedding.”

  “Me too.” He won’t. Because I’m the one who uninvited him.

  My poor, battered heart clenches, and I swallow hard against the emotion trying to take up residence in my throat.

  I will not fucking lose it while Aunt Lil is fixing my bridesmaid’s dress for Kate’s wedding, which just so happens to be tomorrow.

  I will keep it together.

  I will try not to think about the fact that I feel like I just told the love of my life to walk away from me.

  I will try not to think about the fact that I miss Luke so badly, my entire body aches and the mere idea of food makes me want to vomit.

  And I will try not to think about how much I love him.

  Yes. I will simply avoid all of those things and focus on being there for Kate on her big day.

  Ha. Good luck with that, you lunatic.

  I swear, if I could find a fucking time machine on Amazon and go back to yesterday morning, I’d Prime ship that shit so fast.

  If I had the choice, I’d do yesterday all over again in a heartbeat.

  And instead of telling Luke to leave, I would’ve told him to stay. I would’ve told him how I really feel. That I’m in love with him. That the idea of him leaving for Houston in less than a week feels like a knife to my chest.

  Sadly, though, there are no time machines.

  There’s a huge part of me that wants to call him and text him…just talk to him, but it doesn’t feel fair to unload everything on him in any other way but face-to-face. Especially when I’m the one who made him leave Vermont in the first place.

  Way to fucking go, Ava.

  The sound of the front door closing shut grabs my attention, and I look up to find Aunt Poppy walking into the kitchen.

  “Hey hey!” she greets. “I just talked to your mom, and she said she and your sisters are on their way back from the bridal shop with Kate’s dress.”

  “That’s great news.”

  “And she also mentioned that Luke had to leave yesterday,” she adds, diving into the one thing I don’t want to talk about right now. “What the hell happened?”

  “He had to go back to New York early.”

  “Before your sister’s wedding?”

  “Uh-huh.” I nod and swallow against the thick knot in my throat that is starting to become a permanent resident.

  “Well, what in the hell made him have to leave early?” Aunt Poppy pushes with a hand to her hip.

  “He was called in to work, you nosy wench,” Aunt Lil offers, talking around the pin she holds carefully between her lips. She glances up at me and fluffs out the bottom of my bridesmaid dress. “Though, he might be able to come back for Kate’s wedding but isn’t sure yet.”

  “But I thought he was able to get off work to come here? Why in the hell did they call him back in?” The explanation does nothing to quell Aunt Poppy’s questions.

  “One of the pilots got sick, and he had to go back and help out,” I supply, a full-blown lie that’s beginning to fall far too easily from my lips.

  “Well, that’s a damn shame,” Poppy mutters and plops down on the sofa. “I sure hope he can get his ass back in time for the wedding. I bet that man looks hot to trot in a suit.”

  “Uh-huh.” I force a smile to my lips, trying to act like everything is just peachy keen, but I can feel her watching me like a hawk. So, I try my damnedest to switch the freaking subject. “Are you here to let Aunt Lil do some alterations to your dress?”

  “I can do my own damn alterations.” Poppy scoffs, stands up, and walks into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

  Aunt Lil grins at me. “She’s so full of it,” she mutters as she carefully places a few pins into the waist of my dress, pulling it in a half inch or so. “She can’t sew to save her life.”

  “I can hear you!”

  “I know you can hear me!”

  “Well, if you know I can hear you, then why are you over there talking shit?” Poppy questions and unscrews the cap on her bottle of water and takes a sip. “Don’t make me come over there and kick your ass.”

  “Bring it, you old hag.” Aunt Lil sets down the container of pins and gestures with both hands. “I dare ya.”

  Poppy moves like her ass is on fire, and I burst into laughter, but also, I quickly hop down off the step stool and hold out both of my hands between them.

  “Ladies, ladies, there’s no time for violence,” I interject before these two hens start to rumble in my parents’ living room. “Kate and my mom and Em are going to be here any minute, and Lord knows, it would be downright cruel for the bride-to-be to walk in on you two in a fistfight.”

  My aunts continue to glare at each other.

  “Hey,” I say, trying to get their attention. “Aunt Poppy. Aunt Lil.”

  But when they don’t respond or make any move to end the standoff, I put two fingers in my mouth and let out a sharp whistle. “Cut it out!”

  The sounds of the garage door echo into the kitchen, and I use that to plead my case.

  “Do you really want Kate to see you two at odds the day before her wedding?”

  Lil sighs.

  Poppy rolls her eye
s.

  But eventually, the two old birds call a truce by shaking hands.

  I swear to God, after all these years of being bickering, bitching sisters, it’s a miracle these two haven’t killed each other.

  It’s also a miracle they helped me get out of my emotional funk for a few minutes.

  Yeah, but you know that’s going to be short-lived, sister.

  Internally, I sigh, reminding myself that I have to hold it together today and tomorrow. If not for myself, I have to do it for Kate.

  December 31st, New Year’s Eve

  Luke

  “What are you doing here?” Trevor asks, his eyes wide when he sees me step aboard the plane.

  “I…uh…convinced Barry to let me take his shift.”

  Frankly, it took a lot of convincing for Barry to give up this flight, but hell, there was no fucking way I was going to be able to stay home, in my apartment, and think about how Ava is doing and how the wedding was going, and yeah, you get the idea.

  It was either wallow in my own misery or try to find something to distract me.

  This flight seemed like the perfect option.

  And because Barry might not be as nice of a guy as I originally thought, I’m basically flying this plane for free tonight. On fucking New Year’s Eve.

  Trevor just sits there, staring at me like I’m not even speaking English.

  “Dude, I’m so fucking confused right now,” he mutters and runs a hand through his hair. “Aren’t you supposed to be at Ava’s sister’s wedding?”

  “Change of plans.” I shrug and busy myself with putting my duffel in the staff closet behind the cockpit.

  But my sad excuse for an explanation doesn’t do anything to suppress his bewilderment.

  “Luke, my man, I think we both know this wasn’t just a simple change of plans,” he continues, his eyes scrutinizing my face. “No offense, but you look like shit, and there is no way in hell you should be anywhere but Vermont right now.”

  He probably isn’t off base on the whole “you look like shit” comment.

  Sleep hasn’t come easy since I left Vermont because I hurt Ava so badly that she told me she needed space. I feel like someone has ripped my heart out of my chest, run it through it a meat grinder, and shoved it back inside my body.

  Truthfully, the only thing that’s helped ease some of the discomfort is running. Needless to say, in the past twenty-four hours, I’ve managed three six-mile runs around the city, about four hours of sleep, and only one meal of fucking Lucky Charms cereal.

  It’s all pretty pathetic.

  “It’s a long story,” I eventually answer through a sigh. I slip my hands into my pockets and stare up at the ceiling of the plane. “One that I don’t want to get into right now. So, let’s just focus on getting ready for the flight, okay?”

  “Yeah, that’s not going to work for me.” Trevor shakes his head and continues to stare at me, making no move to go back to his safety checks.

  “Trev, c’mon.” I try to reason with him. “Just let me be, all right?”

  “What. The. Fluff?” A loud, boisterous voice fills my ears, and I turn to find Thatcher Kelly stepping onto the plane. “What in the hell are you doing here? Where’s Dingle-Barry?”

  “Apparently,” Trev chimes in, “our good friend Luke here had a change of plans. So, instead of going to Ava’s sister’s wedding, he took Barry’s scheduled flight.”

  Thatch’s eyes turn downright interrogatory. “I’m sorry…what?”

  I shrug, trying to act like it’s no big thing. “I’ll be flying you guys to Vegas for New Year’s Eve.”

  Thatch looks between Trevor and me, confusion written all over his face.

  But when he opens his mouth to say God knows what, his wife Cassie and the rest of the gang begin to board the plane.

  First, Kline and Georgia. Then, everyone else follows their lead, stepping onto the plane already coupled up. Wes and Winnie, Milo and Maybe, Trent and Greer, Quincy and Emory, Cap and Ruby, Harrison and Rocky, and lastly, Theo and Lena.

  Literally, their whole gang.

  At first, no one really notices why Thatch is standing so close to the cockpit of the plane. Hell, most of them even manage to put their bags in the overhead bins and sit down in their preferred seats.

  But Thatch doesn’t let that last long.

  “Guess what, guys?” he announces toward the back of the plane, stepping into the aisleway. “Guess who is flying us today?”

  “Dude, you gotta stop being so hard on Barry. He’s not—”

  “No,” Thatch chimes in, cutting Milo off. “Fucking Luke.”

  “What?” Theo questions, and Thatch turns to point directly toward me.

  “This motherfluffer isn’t in Vermont. With Ava. He’s here. Flying our fluffing plane.”

  In an instant, it feels like a thousand questions are tossed my way, all revolving around why I’m here.

  These fucking nosy-as-hell billionaire bastards. They know way too much about my life. But, more than that, why do they even care?

  I try to move things along, to get everyone to take their seats so Trev and I can concentrate on getting the show on the road, but my copilot has other plans.

  He takes off his headset, tosses it down beside his chair, and stands up.

  “What are you doing?” I question, and he just strides toward the back of the plane.

  What the fuck?

  “This flight isn’t leaving until you tell us what is going on,” he retorts, and I stand up, out of my seat, to watch him plop down in a leather lounger across from Wes and Winnie.

  I look to our passengers, you know, the ones who paid good money for this plane to take them to Las Vegas for New Year’s, but they are no help.

  “Spill the tea, Luke,” Thatch says, sitting down beside Trevor. He puts his hands behind his head and stretches out his legs. “I’m prepared to sit here all night, my man.”

  “Uh…what’s going on?” Cap chimes in, and Kline smirks.

  “Well, Caplin, I think Luke here is in need of an intervention.”

  Georgia rubs her hands together. “Oh boy, I love when I get to be a part of the interventions!”

  “I don’t need an intervention.” I sigh again and run a hand through my hair. “I need to get this flight back on schedule so ATC doesn’t ream my ass.”

  “Like you’re scared of ATC. Get real, man.” Trev snorts. “Anyway, it’s not like you’re going to have to deal with them anymore. Mr. NASA.”

  Thatch furrows his brow. “Wait…what? You’re fluffing in?”

  “Yeah.” I nod, but apparently, my reaction isn’t what they were expecting.

  “Dude, why do you look so fucking miserable when telling us that?” Trent questions. “I mean, you got into NASA. You’re going to be a fucking astronaut. And you look like your dog just died.”

  “The tea, Luke,” Thatch insists. “Serve it up, my man.”

  “Fine!” I shout, my brain feeling like it might explode. “I fucked up with Ava, okay? That’s why I’m here and not in Vermont with her. She told me she needed space from me because I. Fucked. Up.”

  Those words break the dam, and I just tell them everything.

  How things changed between Ava and me in Vermont.

  How we became more than just friends.

  How I couldn’t bring myself to tell her that I got into NASA and would be moving to Houston because she’s been the steadiest thing in my life since my parents died.

  I just lay it all out there, and by the time the last word leaves my lips, Georgia and Winnie and Maybe have tears in their eyes, and Thatch is grinning like a fucking lunatic.

  Cap, though, on the other hand, looks pissed. “Wait…you guys weren’t in a relationship? What the fuck, man?” he questions. “I feel had.”

  “I think what Cap is trying to say is that you guys were very convincing, so convincing that it probably wasn’t ever fake, was it?” Kline interjects, his eyes kind and his words filled with his usual
wisdom. “You love her.”

  “Yeah. I do.” I nod. “Actually, I’ve loved her for a very long time.”

  Trev smiles at me, his eyes knowing. “I’ve been trying to make you see that for years, man. For fucking years.”

  I know he’s right.

  “Well…I think I know what we have to do now,” Cassie announces and stands up from her chair. “Looks like we’re going to spend New Year’s in Vermont.”

  Instantly, my eyes go wide. “What? No. No, that’s not—”

  “Yeah, that’s exactly what we’re going to do.” Georgia is quick to jump on the insane bandwagon.

  “You don’t understand. Ava wants space. She doesn’t want me in Vermont.”

  “I swear, sometimes, men are so dense,” Lena comments.

  “They sure are.” Maybe snorts. “But don’t feel bad, Luke. Every bastard on this plane has been in your clueless position before.”

  “Excuse me?” Milo questions on a laugh, but Maybe ignores him, standing up to join the rest of the girl gang.

  “Luke, honey, she wants you there,” Winnie says, her eyes serious. “She doesn’t want space. She wants you there.”

  “You have to go,” Georgia adds. “You need to be there.”

  Before I know it, Thatch and Milo and Kline and the rest of the guys are joining Team Crazy, urging a change in flight plans. And that fuck Trevor is back in the cockpit, talking to ATC to see if we can get last-minute clearance.

  Which he does.

  “We’re a go,” he says over his shoulder, meeting my eyes. “What do you say, Luke? Should we go get your girl?”

  It’s all so fucking ridiculous.

  Yeah, but you’ve never wanted to do anything more in your life.

  From the instant I stepped on that plane and headed back to New York without Ava, I’ve felt like there’s a goddamn hole in my chest.

  I never should’ve left. I know that now.

  I look at everyone inside the cabin. “Are you guys sure you’re okay with this?”

  “Okay with this?” Thatch bellows. “Fluffing hell, this is better than book club! Let’s goooooooo!”

  “Everything is better than book club,” Wes mutters, and Thatch glares.