Page 36 of Hostile for the Holidays

She laughs. “Hasn’t it always been with you two?”

“Unfortunately, yeah. What’s been going on with you?” I ask, feeling like we haven’t had much time to catch up since I got home.

“I had finals last week. The next month is finalizing my business plan for the bookstore before the spring semester starts.”

Juniper reads a ton of books. Like one every day. It’s fascinating. She’s got a huge following on social media andposts about romance books there. Now she’s months away from opening her own romance bookstore here in Cedar Hollow.

“That’s awesome.”

“The problem is I’m great at business classes, but applying it in the real world feels daunting. Do you have any advice, from one entrepreneur to another?”

“Surround yourself with people who know what they’re doing.”

She laughs. “There’s no budget for that, yet.”

An idea forms in my head.

“You should talk to Liam. He knows all about the business side of things. I’d be lost without him, as a business partner and a friend.”

“It’s fine. I’m sure I’ll figure it out.”

“If you need anything, you’ll let me know? Financial backing. Tech support. Anything.”

She nods, but we’ve already had this conversation and she wants to do it all on her own. She’s ambitious, but I know exactly what that’s like. I was doing the same thing when I was her age.

We finish our sandwiches and make our way upstairs. I give her a hug at the landing, then we part ways to go to our rooms.

“Hey, Jas,” she calls, stopping at her bedroom door. “I have confidence you and Stella are going to work out.”

“How do you know?” I ask.

“Because you deserve an HEA.”

“HEA?”

“Happily Ever After.”

“Thanks, Juni. I sure hope so.”

“I think something about your kiss altered my brain chemistry. I’ve never had a sex dream before last night.”

I slam on the brakes.

“Jesus, Stella. That’s not what I was expecting at seven-thirty in the morning.”

She shrugs before taking a drink of her coffee.

“We’ve always been brutally honest with each other, so I figured there’s no point stopping now.”

“That’s true.”

“Thanks again for the coffee. How did you know what I wanted?”

I give a casual shrug, wondering if I’m prepared to be as honest as Stella. Her boldness comes from a place of surprise, but the feelings I have for her have been buried under a rock for over a decade. They’re not as easily coaxed into the light when I’m uncertain if she’s ready to hear about them.

“It’s a pretty generic order.”

“A Venti Caramel Macchiato with two pumps of vanilla, extra caramel drizzle, three shots of espresso, almond milk, a pump of toffee nut syrup, topped with whipped cream and cinnamon powder?”

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