by Kendall Ryan
I looked away as we reached the concierge desk and sidled up next to Sam as he requested my room key.
“We’ll meet up with you guys some time later or…not,” Jeremy said, waggling his eyebrows before leading Peter to the elevators.
But my attention was squarely on the man behind the desk, whose face looked strange…
“I’m sorry,” the man said, mouth pinched with regret as he looked up from his computer. “We contacted you back on the number provided shortly after you called us this morning. We weren’t able to get you a second room.”
My shoulders sagged. “No rooms?” I repeated blankly.
He looked me in the eye. “No rooms.”
“Shit, I’m so sorry, Mags. My room has two queen beds,” Sam said. “You can bunk with me. You’ll have your own bed and we can try another place nearby tomorrow if you’d rather.”
“I couldn’t do that. You paid all this money for a nice vacation and now I’m—”
“Making it more awesome by being here. Don’t be ridiculous.” He turned to the concierge and handed him a five. “Could you please bring her bag to room 417?”
“Surely, sir.” The concierge nodded and then slid another key toward us. “Your key, ma’am.”
I took it, then turned it over and over in my palm, like if I just flipped it fast enough, a magic solution might appear.
But was this really a problem? I’d stayed at Sam’s house a million times. I’d fallen asleep in his lap just the other night. What was the big deal with sharing a hotel room?
Yesterday, it would’ve been no big deal at all. Now though? When I was seeing him with new eyes? The eyes of apparently everyone around us…
It was everything.
With a deep breath, I followed Sam up the steps and down the hall until we arrived at the room. He opened the door for me and I stepped inside, glancing from the mirrored bathroom and soaker tub to the wide, queen-sized beds with homey quilted comforters. It was a true ski resort and I flopped onto the bed gratefully before glancing out the windows and catching sight of the fresh flurry of snow that had begun to fall.
“I bet they have Christmas movies still if we ask,” Sam said.
I shook my head just as someone arrived and set my bag down at the foot of my bed. I thanked him, placing a discreet tip in his palm, and he disappeared with a swift nod, clicking the door shut behind him. The sound echoed through the room like a shot and my face went white hot.
“I’m going to take a shower, I think. Get the travel off of me,” I mumbled.
“Okay, then. I’ll be here.”
I opened my bag and grabbed my pajamas before rushing into the bathroom and turning on the comforting spray. As the steam began to rise and coat the mirrors, I stripped down and then stepped into the walk-in shower. Water sluiced down my back and hair as I closed my eyes and sucked in a steadying breath.
This awkward feeling—the knot in my stomach whenever I thought of Sam lately—would pass. It was just all the influence of the people around me and the shock of Trevor’s infidelity that had me reeling.
The idea of actually being with Sam...
I shook my head as my entire body tingled. It was impossible. If it didn’t work out, I would be ruining one of the most important relationships in my life. I just had to remain cool, calm, and collected. Keep my head on straight. And when everything was said and done? I’d feel normal around Sam again. Just like I always did.
Or had I?
My mind drifted back to that time we went to the beach last summer and I’d caught sight of him stepping out of the ocean looking like a Greek god with his broad, muscled chest and six-pack abs. Lord knew I didn’t feel normal that day. And although I’d pretended my dream man that night had been some faceless fantasy, I was pretty sure, if I was being honest with myself, that he’d looked an awful lot like Sam.
Or when he and Melanie had first gotten together and I’d eaten an entire pint of mocha chip ice cream in one sitting because I’d felt all weird inside but couldn’t put my finger on why.
I let out a muffled curse and squeezed my eyes closed, trying to make these thoughts stop.
I stayed like that for a solid ten minutes, using the breathing techniques I’d learned in yoga until I felt marginally better, then I soaped up quickly and rinsed off. By the time I stepped from the shower and climbed into my pajamas, I was ready to face him.
No big deal. It was just Sam, after all. We’d crawl into our respective beds and watch some bad movie on TV. Totally normal, just like every other night we’d spent together.
I just had to keep reminding myself of that.
Walking back into the room, I pasted on a smile and got ready to suggest a movie, only to find my gaze drawn to Sam’s chiseled, naked chest. He was changing into his pajamas, too, and the low-slung fleece pants did nothing to make him look less like an off-duty superhero.
Son of a—
“Movie?” I croaked.
He grinned. “Great minds. But first, I wanted to say—I know you’re going through a lot with this Trevor thing and, for what it’s worth, I think you’re better off. I never thought he was the one.”
Are you applying for the job? I wanted to ask. Instead, I swallowed hard. “Thanks.”
“I mean, he just wasn’t good enough. Not for you.”
I climbed into my bed and snuggled down into the pillows and then turned to look at him. The knot in my belly tightened at the solemn expression on his beautiful face.
“I appreciate that, Sam. You’re a good friend.”
He turned away but not before I saw a flicker of…something in his eyes.
Something that made my whole body go up in flames.
Chapter Six
Sam
If I’d thought listening to Maggie take a shower in the next room had been hard on me—literally—the next two hours were the longest of my life.
We lay just an arm’s length apart as we watched some mindless movie starring Will Ferrell. Or, at least she did. I just pretended to watch it as my brain ran until there was nothing left in it but fumes.
Did she really mean that brother-sister thing?
And, if she did, then why had she been giving me looks I could only describe as hungry as the night had progressed?
Whatever the case, things were suddenly markedly different between us and I had no clue how to fix it.
Moreover, I wasn’t sure I even wanted to. Throwing my name in the ring could only complicate things. And eventually, Maggie was going to get over the anger and humiliation over what happened with Trevor and then she was going to find someone new. I honestly wasn’t sure I could stand by and watch it again. Watch some other guy sit around like a lump of shit while I made her smile and then watched as she went home with him.
I raked a frustrated hand through my hair and groaned.
The guys were always breaking my balls about her. About how I should just stop dicking around and make a move, but I wasn’t so sure.
“I mean, we could be brother and sister.”
“Fuck,” I snarled and launched myself off the bed.
* * * *
After what I’d dubbed in my head as “Awkward Movie Night,” I’d eventually fallen into a fitful sleep, resolving to clear the air between us ASAP, but as soon as the sun rose the next day, she was up and out, on her way to the spa. Which, I supposed, was for the best. What if I was reading into all this? So what if a couple friends and a stranger thought we should be together? If I made a move and she didn’t feel the same, talk about awkward.
I could lose her altogether.
Before, it had always been easier to resist her and look but not touch. She belonged to someone else… She claimed she was happy with someone else.
But lately, it had been tougher and tougher. And now?
Now I felt like a cat with a ball of yarn dangling over my face, close enough to touch but still just out of reach. The timing still wasn’t right, and even if it was, I had no idea if Maggie was c
apable of feeling about me the way I did about her.
And yet I couldn’t wipe her from my mind.
As I downed a quick breakfast and hit the slopes with Jeremy and Peter, my thoughts turned to that bastard Trevor. What an ass he had been for doing what he’d done to her. How, if I was with Maggie, I’d cherish her forever. And most of all? What she’d said about it.
That she didn’t miss him, wasn’t heartbroken over him.
So did that mean she was willing to entertain the idea of someone new? She hadn’t said any of the “time for rebirth and finding herself” things I’d expected. In fact, when it came to her love life, she hadn’t said much at all.
Conflicted as ever, I tore down to the bottom of the slope a little faster than I should have and skidded to a halt just in time to cover Peter and Jeremy with a fresh wave of powder.
They dusted themselves off, glaring at me, and then I nodded toward the lifts.
“Want to try someplace new?” I said. “I’d be down to hit a black diamond over on—”
“Hang on,” Peter said. “Now that we’re finally just all guys here, there’s something Jer and I have been wanting to talk to you about.”
“Oh, yeah?” I asked, wary as I yanked one glove off with my teeth. How did I already know I didn’t want to hear it?
“Yeah.” Jeremy nodded. “What’s the fucking deal with Maggie?”
I frowned. “What do you mean ‘what’s the deal?’ I told you guys I didn’t want her to be alone for New Year’s so I invited her. She said no and then her relationship hit the skids and I didn’t want her sitting home and wallowing. That’s the whole story.”
“Right, that’s what you told us,” Peter said with a short laugh as he tugged off his goggles and stared at me. “But we’ve been around the block a time or two and we’re not buying the shit you’re selling anymore.”
“I don’t get what you mean,” I said, playing dumb and wishing I had a stick to throw to distract them.
“Maggie,” Jeremy said. “You’ve been in love with her for years and Peter and I want to know what you plan to do about it now that she’s single.”
“What?” I faked misunderstanding because, seriously, them guessing at the depth of my feeling for Maggie was one thing. If they had confirmation?
I’d never get a moment’s rest from their badgering.
“Look, guys, I know you want this to be like some Kate Hudson rom-com so you can say you called it years ago, but she’s just my friend.”
“Which is why you keep checking your phone every five seconds to see if she’s looking for you?” Peter raised his eyebrows.
“She just got dumped. I don’t want to ditch her,” I argued. That was rational, wasn’t it? She was my guest; I had to make sure she was taken care of.
It was what anyone would have done.
“So you’re telling us that you’re not thrilled she’s single?” Jeremy pressed.
I pulled my cap tighter on my head, making sure to cover my ears. “I’m never happy to see my friends hurt. He cheated on her. It was a shitty thing to do.”
Peter and Jeremy exchanged a significant look and then blew out matching heavy sighs.
“What?” I demanded.
“Look, Sam, you’re our friend but we have to give it to you straight. You’re pussy whipped,” Jeremy said as Peter nodded beside him. “And that’s not easy to do when you’re not even getting the actual pussy. Now that Maggie is finally single, you need to find a way to hook up with her or get rid of her all together. You can’t be living your life waiting around for her to notice you. It’s pathetic.”
“Super sad,” Peter agreed, absently swiping the snow from his pants.
“I’m not fucking doing that,” I said. “She’s my friend, that’s all.”
Peter gave me a slow nod. “Right, so you won’t have a problem with the New Year’s plans we’re making, then?”
“Well, I want to—”
“Check with Maggie first,” they finished for me in stereo and Jeremy guffawed.
“You need to do some soul searching, bro. We’ll meet you on Daring Cliff, okay?” They trudged toward the ski lift before I got the chance to argue and I watched them, thinking over everything they’d said.
Were my feelings for Maggie really that obvious? Was I really so transparent?
I hoped not. If Maggie had even an inkling of the things I’d been thinking about in the shower this morning? If she knew the way I’d imagined her there with me, naked in my arms as I lathered the lavender hotel shower gel over her stiff nipples and watched the sudsy water roll over her tight, lean body...
My cock twitched again at the thought and I swallowed hard before following my friends to the ski lift.
Every word they’d said had been right. Ever since the first moment I’d met Maggie in college—two weeks after the start of her ill-fated relationship with Trevor—I knew she was the one for me.
I’d been sitting behind her in Spanish class and she was scrawling her name over and over on the folder of her notebook in a million different fonts. I’d thought she was an art major and I’d craned to get a better look.
“I can take a picture if it’s easier for you,” she’d said without turning around.
It took me a moment to even realize she’d been talking to me.
“What?” I’d asked.
“You’re a looky-lou.” This time she turned, treating me to the smell of her ocean breeze perfume.
“No, I was just...”
“Trying to cheat? I should warn you, I’m not a good person to cheat off of. I can only say my name.”
“Which is?”
“Me llamo Maggie,” she said in the thickest American accent she could muster.
I grinned. “Me llamo Sam.”
“So, Sam, you want to take a picture? It lasts longer.”
For weeks afterward she teased me about me watching her, but I was transfixed by her drawings. It wasn’t just her name, either. In the middle of lectures, I would find my gaze wandering down her notebook where she was sketching little songbirds in withered tree branches or cupcakes with a thousand sprinkles.
I could never understand what she got from me in return, but every day at the end of the lecture she would rip out her drawing and hand it to me.
“For you,” she’d say and I would tuck it in my own folder, sure that Spanish was the best class I’d ever fail in my life.
From there, everything flowed naturally. I asked her about her drawings, and then her life, and then—when we realized we were both flailing for our lives in class—we studied together, too. We just fit together. We always had.
Like we were fated to be.
I reached the ski lift and hopped on, still deep in my thoughts.
My friends could say what they wanted, but with Maggie this wasn’t just about sex. I wanted more from her than that.
I wanted everything. And if I was going to do this?
I was going to do it all the way.
Chapter Seven
Maggie
I’d spent the whole day getting my face smeared with mud, my feet soaked in steamy water, and my body massaged to the point of becoming as pliable as Silly Putty but, somehow, I still couldn’t bring myself to relax.
On a physical level, my muscles were looser and my skin was smoother. But on a spiritual level? I was a frigging wreck.
My mind was just as topsy-turvy as it had been the day before. In the moments when I wasn’t thinking about the odd comments everyone was making about Sam, I was thinking about Sam himself. The way the smell of his spicy shampoo clung to the air around him. The way he moved in his low-slung jeans and how, when he lifted his arms high, I would catch a glimpse of those abs and that narrow trail of hair that led from his belly button down…
And then, when I’d finally managed to force myself to stop thinking of Sam, I thought of Trevor and how he was nothing like Sam. Trevor, who’d abused my trust and treated me like a doormat to wipe his feet on and th
en ignore. Trevor, who was still probably sitting outside my apartment door right now, waiting for me to come out and take him back into my arms.
Which, of course, was never going to happen.
Flinging myself down onto my bed, I buried my face in the pillows and debated screaming out my frustration. None of this was going to be solved by me lying here doing nothing. I was going to have to do something to address all these new, conflicting feelings bubbling inside me… I just had no idea what.
Twisting around on the mattress, I pulled my robe tighter just as the door swung open and Sam walked in, his cheeks still slightly flushed from the chilled winter air.
“How were the slopes?” I asked, wondering if the shrillness of my voice had always been there or if I was simply overcompensating for the sudden rush of nerves that washed over me.
Either way, Sam didn’t seem to notice. “It was great. Peter bit it pretty hard toward the end there.”
“Perfect day, then.” I grinned.
“Exactly.” He pulled off his hat and gloves and tossed them on the dresser. His gaze narrowed on my face and he eyed me, his grin fading. “Hey, the guys were talking about going on a tear tonight and I was thinking it might be just what you need. Some booze, loose women, and debauchery might be a good start to getting old what’s-his-name off your mind.” He flashed me that signature grin I loved.
I smiled, unsure how to feel. I wanted to spend the evening with Sam, but the idea of hopping from one crowded bar to the next on New Year’s Eve sounded about as appealing as gouging my own eyes out with an ice pick.
And, even if I forced myself to do it, I would just be a downer, so I settled on, “You know what? You go have fun with your friends. I think I’m in the mood for a more low-key kind of night.”