by Susan Stoker
After thirty minutes of her sing-along, he asked, “Are you gonna s-s-sing the whole drive?”
“Maybe.” She turned down the radio. “Why? You got something better to talk about?”
“How’d your exams go?”
“Ugh. I’m glad they are over. Nursing school is the biggest challenge of my life. Let’s just say I am looking forward to getting my drink on this weekend.”
His mouth quirked up.
“What?”
“Drunk cupcake is al-al-always a blast.” His shoulders shook with his silent laughter.
She playfully swatted his arm.
“H-hey, don’t attack the driver.”
She giggled because that is what her best friend did to her. He’s the only man—the only person—that really understood her.
“How’s the parents?” she asked.
“Gene and Susie Graham are just as c-c-concerned with my love life as always.”
“They want grandbabies that badly, huh?”
He rolled his eyes. “You have no idea.”
“Weren’t you seeing Crystal?” She took a sip of her now cold cocoa.
“We’re better off as friends.”
“Maybe you need to get out of New Hampshire. You should move to Boston like me, and then we can spend my last semester together. You can work from anywhere with your coding job.”
“It’s a little late for that.” He chuckled. “Besides, they want me to go to a therapist. They think my inability to h-h-have a long-term relationship with a woman stems from attach-ch-chment trauma of being adopted.”
“Wow. Then I guess we’re both doomed to be single the rest of our lives. Maybe we should just pretend we’re together and get them off your back.”
His smile dipped. “Nah. They’d be heartbroken when they find out we’re not actually together.”
“They get that invested in all your relationships?”
He shook his head. “No, but they’ve wanted us to get together since high school.”
Her mouth dropped open, shock rippling through her. “No way!” She’d never even thought of Lyric that way. Sure, she’d noticed he was hot, she’d have to be blind not to. But he was her friend. And she would never risk losing him.
He seemed to be studying her.
She forced a laugh. “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Something flashed in his eyes, but he turned back to the road too quick for her to see what it was.
He nodded. “That’s what I told them.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing she needed was something to come between them. If she was being truly honest, he was her only real friend. The only one she let inside her walls and knew about the details of her past—things only he could understand. Not even her parents knew it all. But Lyric, he was safe. He was reliable. He looked out for her. And she loved him—as a friend.
2
Lyric
Lyric pulled into the driveway, glad his old Jeep had four-wheel drive. The snow on the backroad hadn’t been plowed in what seemed like hours, and there was a good couple inches coating it. He’d slid only once.
Amara clapped her hands together as she stared at the cabin. It was rustic. The whole thing looked to be made from honey-colored logs. A large front porch was covered in what looked like a foot of snow except for a path to the front door and what he assumed was an outdoor hot tub.
Two cars were already parked. He and Amara were probably the last to arrive.
“It looks smaller than the pictures.”
“Th-that’s what she said.” He chuckled.
Laughter poured out of her, slipping inside his defenses and stirring him up like it always did. God damn his best friend was something else. He’d wanted to date her when he’d first met her in high school, but she made it clear he was strictly in the friend zone. He’d gotten over his crush—mostly.
“Ready for this?” she asked, a spark of concern marring her soft expression. She sucked her full brown-and-pink-tinged bottom lip into her mouth like she did when she was unsure. Those dark eyes that were guarded around everyone except him.
He reached over and tucked one of her box braids over her shoulder, then threw her words back at her. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
She smiled and opened the door. A burst of cold wind nipped at his face and exposed hands. It was a lot colder in the mountains. He pulled his jacket together and zipped it up as he went to the trunk for their bags. As usual, Amara seemed to pack enough for an army.
She reached for her bag, which was a joke. There was no way she would be able to wheel that thing through this snow.
He tapped her hand and pointed to his small duffle bag. She got the message and grabbed it instead. Lyric picked her suitcase up and carried it behind her as she carefully made her way to the cabin. Nerves twisted his insides. Social situations were not his favorite things. The looks people gave him when he stuttered were usually full of pity or awkwardness. Then, of course, there were the people who thought they were being helpful and assumed he just couldn’t think of the word, so they’d say the word for him as if he was too stupid to remember it.
But Amara invited him along, and he wanted to spend time with her. She made everything better, ever since that first day in class when she’d showed up. She’d sat next to him in the lunchroom, talking enough for the both of them. She pulled out a cupcake in the lunch she’d packed from home. That was the first word he’d spoken to her—cupcake.
The door burst open and a redhead came out with her arms open to Amara. “You’re finally here!”
“I told you we would be.” She hugged her friend and turned back to Lyric. “Krystin is such a drama queen.”
“Who is this handsome stud?” Krystin asked, ushering them inside.
The place smelled like cedar and wood smoke. Soft lights showed off the colorful woven rugs on the floor and the mounted deer head on the far wall over the roaring fireplace. A couple mismatched couches took up most of the space in the small living room with red and black checkered pillows and blankets hanging over the backs.
“Hey now. You better be talking about me,” a man said, wrapping his arms around Krystin’s waist and tugging her against him.
She playfully slapped his arm.
The guy extended his hand to Lyric, and he shook it. “I’m Cooper.”
“Lyric.”
He bent over to untie the laces on his boots before stacking them next to Amara’s.
“Is your name really Lyric? Like for real?” Another guy who must be Chris walked in from the small kitchen to their right. He was tall and beefy like a linebacker, his brown hair slicked back with gel. Preppy asshole.
Anger blended together with his nerves. His biological mother had chosen the name, probably while still high on methamphetamines. He’d been told his bio father was a musician.
Amara slipped her hand into his. “Yes, it is. Isn’t it a unique name? I love it.”
And just like that, the anxiety flushed out of his system.
Chris held out his hands. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Just not a name you hear every day. I’m Chris, by the way.”
Lyric nodded.
“And you must be Amara. Nice to finally meet you,” Chris said, laying the flirtation on thick. His eyes raked over Amara’s body.
“Ow,” Amara said, pulling her hand from his hold which had tightened considerably.
“S-s-sorry.”
Amara’s friends’ gazes locked on him and then to her. A flush crept up his neck. His cheeks and ears were sure to be flaming red.
“Which room is ours?” she asked.
Krystin pointed towards the stairs as a blonde woman descended. She was cute. Taller than Amara, and much slenderer. She didn’t have the curves that his best friend did.
“Hey, guys. I’m Samantha.” She waved a pink manicured hand towards them.
“Hey.” Amara waved.
He nodded. He preferred not to speak unless he had to.
“Last two rooms on the left,” Krystin called after them.
Amara opened the first door and he walked to the second. He waited as she entered and checked each one out.
“You can have this one.” She set his bag on the bed. “It’s got the bigger bed.”
He set her suitcase inside her room as she walked to a smaller door that he assumed was a closet.
“Oh, we have an adjoining bathroom. I call first dibs on a shower tomorrow.”
“You w-w-won’t be out of b-b-bed before me,” he teased.
“Well, I could be. You never know. Maybe mountain life will turn me into a morning person. Oooh! I want to see the sunrise.”
“So, I should risk waking the bear for dawn tomorrow?”
She cocked her head to the side and raised one eyebrow higher than the other. Her hands rested on her wide hips. “It was one time! And you caught me by surprise. I forgot we fell asleep in the same bed. You scared me. Can’t blame me for trying to defend myself from an attacker at some ungodly hour.”
“It was six in the morning. And you crawled into my bed if I remember correctly.”
She shrugged. “I was cold, and you’re a human furnace.”
“Dinner is ready!” Krystin’s voice called from down the hall.
“Let’s eat,” Amara said, leading the way.
After dinner, the games began. Drinks were poured and Lyric was able to relax with a slight buzz zipping through his body. Amara laughed along with her friends, always making sure to include him.
Samantha sat next to him on the floor, leaning against the couch before handing him a beer. “Looked like you could use another.” She pointed to his empty.
“Thanks.”
Across the room, Chris sidled next to Amara, pointing to the charm on the necklace around her neck. The gold cupcake one he’d given her for her eighteenth birthday.
Amara smiled and said something he couldn’t hear. His gut turned and he took a sip of his drink. She could do so much better than the guys she picked.
“No problem. Are you in college too?” Samantha asked, drawing his attention.
“No.”
“Oh. What do you do now?” she pressed.
“Coding.” If he kept his answers simple and short, the less likely his stutter would act up.
“Like for websites or video games?”
He nodded.
“That’s so cool.” Samantha moved a little closer. “I’m almost done with business management.”
Chris reached out and picked up one of Amara’s braids. Invasive prick.
Amara’s eyes narrowed on Chris as she stood up, fists clenched. “Don’t touch my hair.”
Chris had the decency to look contrite. “Sorry, my bad.”
“Cupcake,” Lyric called out her nickname abruptly.
Her gaze snapped to his.
Come over here.
She seemed to read the request in his eyes. They’d always been able to have silent conversation with their gazes.
Amara turned and went to the kitchen, coming back a minute later with a plate full of pie. She took the seat on the other side of him.
Taking a bite, she slipped her tongue over her lips as her eyes closed in rapture—or the closest thing he’d ever seen to it.
“Want some? It’s pumpkin.”
Fuck yes. He nodded.
She lifted the fork to his lips, and he ate the dessert. “Mmm.”
Amara leaned forward to talk to Samantha. “Isn’t this cabin the cutest?”
Samantha smiled. “Yeah, it’s cozy. Glad I could come.”
“Let’s get some shots.” Chris set the glasses down in the center of the circle while Krystin and Cooper started making out.
After they’d downed three tequila shots, Lyric held his hand out. He was done. He didn’t mind getting a little tipsy but getting drunk wasn’t fun. Besides, he had to look out for Amara if she decided to drink too much.
Amara smiled and laughed at something Samantha said. “No way. Ric and I are just friends.”
His attention snapped to hers.
“You guys act like a couple.” Samantha pointed to her hand on his thigh.
“Nope. He’s my best friend.” Amara squished his cheeks together and kissed one of them.
Samantha looked to him for confirmation.
He shrugged. “It’s t-t-true.”
“Why don’t you two get a room already?” Amara spoke to Krystin and her boyfriend.
Krystin pulled away, her cheeks flushed. “Sorry! Drinking always gets me going.”
“I don’t mind the show.” Chris winked.
Cooper smacked his shoulder hard. “Asshole.”
Chris laughed. “Oh, I have the best idea for a game.”
“What is it?” Amara asked.
“An oldie but a goodie,” he said, grabbing Lyric’s empty beer bottle and setting it in the middle of them all.
“Spin the mother fucking bottle.” Chris held his hands up, as if he expected cheering. Instead, he was met with groans.
“What are you, twelve?” Samantha asked. She seemed like a cool chick.
“Come on. It will be fun. A good way to keep warm since the temperature outside is fucking freezing.” Chris laughed and took another pull from his drink.
“No way. I don’t share my girl,” Cooper said.
“But wouldn’t it be hot to see Krystin make out with one of the other girls?” Chris tipped his head.
Cooper hesitated and then looked at his girlfriend.
One of Krystin’s eyebrows rose higher than the other. “I’m game. But only if you guys kiss too if the bottle so happens to choose you.”
“Fine.” Cooper gave in.
“You go first,” Chris said to Amara.
She set her drink down and took the bottle. Sending it swirling around. It slowed.
Not Chris. Anyone but fucking Chris.
He held his breath as the mouth of the bottle stopped in front of him.
He looked over at her. She grinned sheepishly. “This is going to be like kissing my brother, you guys.”
They all laughed, except Lyric. His hands grew sweaty, and anxiety twisted his stomach into a thousand intricate knots. Jesus, it wasn’t like this was his first kiss. But it would be his first time kissing Amara.
She leaned in. “Let’s get this over with.” Her breath smelled like the hot cocoa and rum.
He grasped her face gently in his hands, aware of all the eyes on them. He pushed them away. He didn’t need to be self-conscious. He didn’t need his voice for this next part. He traced the edge of her jaw with his thumb before lowering his mouth to hers. A small gasp parted her lips with the first contact as fireworks exploded in his brain. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, tracing the seam of her lips with his tongue. She kissed him back, her sweet mouth exploring, almost as eager as his. Tingles raced down his limbs. She pulled the back of his neck, drawing him closer. His cock shot to attention. This kiss was upending. Blurring lines and crossing boundaries. Her mouth mesmerized him—drugged him. Her touch burned his skin—branding him with white-hot flames of lust that he’d never experienced at this magnitude before.
A throat cleared, and she pulled away as if shocked out of the fragile trance. Her heavy-lidded gaze searched his.
Did she feel that too?
“You better kiss Cooper like that, Chris. I want a real show,” Krystin teased, breaking the moment.
Amara pulled away, tucking her hair behind her shoulder and avoiding his eyes. “Who’s next?”
Fuck who’s next. They’d just started something, and he was going to finish it. Tonight. He’d take the chance, and if she turned him down, he’d move on once and for all. He’d accept they could only truly ever be friends. But … if there was a chance she felt this too … he’d do whatever it took to make her see this could work. Because Amara Evans was his. She just didn’t know it yet.
3
Amara
Don’t freak out. Don�
��t freak out. But what the hell just happened? She had never been kissed like that before. Like the world would end if she pulled her lips from his. Like everything she’d ever known had been a lie. Nothing made sense. And fuck if she didn’t want to do it again.
No. She couldn’t. Lyric was her best friend. The only person she’d let into her life all the way. If she lost him—no. She wouldn’t go there.
She couldn’t look at him the rest of the night. And she cut back on the drinks. Yes. It must have been the alcohol. She was certain. Mostly.
Amara yawned, making a show of just how tired she was. The tension was too much.
“I’m gonna head to bed.”
“Aww, come on, girl. It’s only eleven,” Krystin whined.
“I think we should head to bed too,” Cooper said, nuzzling her neck.
Krystin giggled.
Damn, I should have brought earplugs.
“I was up early. See you guys tomorrow. We’re gonna explore the trails, right?”
“Yes!” Samantha answered louder than necessary.
“Do you want help to bed?” Amara asked her.
Cooper helped Krystin stand, leading her up the stairs with one hand on her ass.
Samantha wobbled to her feet. “Actually, that’s probably a good idea.”
“You guys are leaving us? The night is young,” Chris complained. “You too, man?”
Amara didn’t need to turn around to know Lyric was behind them.
“Yup.” His deep baritone answered, sending a shiver through her.
What the fuck was that? She shook her head as if that could rid the newly discovered lust that rippled through her. Her skin burned with the awareness of his gaze as she looped an arm around Samantha and ascended the stairs.
“This one is mine.” Samantha opened the door.
“Are you good?”
“Yes. Sleep tight.” Her new friend shut the door.
Prickles raced up Amara’s skin. Her skin flushed with heat. She needed to escape before she did something to ruin the best thing that ever happened to her, besides her parents. She hurried to her room, throwing the door open and disappearing inside. She didn’t trust herself to even say goodnight at this point.