Page 78 of The Friend Situation

“We can leave,” he offers. “There’s a coffee shop just around the corner.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “We’re already here. Might as well see where the night takes us, right?”

We sip our martinis.

“Fill me in. What’s happening in your life?” he asks, leaning in a little closer.

“Where to begin?” I muse. “I’m still working at the hotel, trying to snatch up as many hours as I can. Living alone, navigating the dating scene when I find spare time. I’ve got a fantastic group of friends, and honestly, life is great. How about you?”

His smile warms me. “I’m really happy to hear that. Not much has changed. I’m working from home now and just bought a house right off the county road. Funny enough, it’s close to your family’s farm.”

“Really? Congratulations! The Mueller place?” I ask.

“Yes, that’s the one.”

“Incredible. Thrilled for you,” I exclaim, taking a sip of mydrink. The saltiness dances on my tongue as I sway gently to the music. “How’s your sister doing?”

Samson and Holiday are twins and were inseparable until she began traveling a lot after culinary school. She’s one of the best pastry chefs in the United States.

“Holiday’s great. Did you hear she got engaged? He’s a chef too. Not my favorite person, but they’re good together. I’m excited for her,” he says, a hint of pride in his voice.

“I had no idea she was dating anyone. Wow, that’s amazing. Please send her my best wishes!” The news brings a smile to my face.

She’s the same age as Lucas, whohatesher.

“Want to dance?” He laughs. “Like old times?”

“Sure.” I grin, pulling him toward the center of the room as we venture into the unknown together.

Laughter bubbles up between us as I place his hands on my hips. The warmth of his palms sends a friendly jolt of nostalgia through me. Can’t remember the last time I danced with anyone. A couple beside us are lost in their own rhythm, bodies moving in sync with the thumping dance remix overhead.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Sam asks. His breath tickles down my neck.

“Not regularly. You?” I spin around, flipping my hair over my shoulder.

“No. I’ve missed you,” he admits, sincerity threading through his voice.

“You chose your fate, Sam,” I murmur, glancing around as if the music might drown out his confession.

“Can it be changed?” he asks as I face him. His mouth is dangerously close to mine.

“I don’t know,” I admit.

Then I kiss him, needing to feel if there’s anything left between us. As our lips crash together, I expect a flood of emotions. Thekiss deepens, and he tastes like nothing more than old memories. Purely platonic. I pull away and stare at him.

He smiles. “Nothing has changed.”

“Sam,” I whisper, “a lothas changed.”

The song crescendos to a close, and he gently guides me back to the bar, where I order water. I don’t even have a buzz, which is probably for the best. It’s a reminder that I need to tread carefully before I lose myself in the night and do something I might regret later.

“You didn’t feel anything,” he says.

We loved each other for three years; he knows I can’t fake it.

“Maybe I need another try?” I turn to face him, meet his eyes, and kiss him again. I place my hand on his cheek, our tongues slide together, and then I replay kissing Weston. Our second kiss was a confirmation for him. I pull away as realization strikes.

He grins. “How about that time?”

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