After that incident with the lipstick and the near kiss in the bathroom at Eddie Devito’s house, Beck and I haven’t really talked since. He didn’t talk to me at all for weeks.

Eventually, those weeks stretch into months. And the boy still won’t say much to me. Oh, he’ll offer up a few mumbled words when I ask him a question in history, but otherwise, he completely ignores me.

It sucks.

Worse? It hurts.

But whatever. I focus on other things. School, which is kicking my butt. Volleyball, which we ended up in the playoffs. We won league but not our division and now we have a new goal for my senior year.

Becoming division champs. Maybe even going to state.

Then there’s Jonah, my now boyfriend. We’ve been spending a lot of time together, getting to know each other better, and while he’s no Beck Callahan, he’s a pretty nice guy and easy to talk to.

Not bad for a first boyfriend, you know? Better than reaching too high and getting disappointed every single time. Like what’s happening between me and Beck.

By the time it’s winter break, Beck and I are on semi-speaking terms, which is a good thing, considering my family has been invited to a Christmas party at his house. I tag along, because why not? Gives me a chance to force Beck to talk to me. Plus, Jonah is out of town, visiting his grandparents for Christmas, so I can’t hang out with him at all.

Probably won’t be able to chat much with Beck though, considering Sasha will be there, draped all over him. They’re still running hot and heavy. No more arguments at school, that’s for sure.

Ugh. I hate that they’re together, though I would never admit that to anyone.

Not a single soul.

We show up at the Callahan house early Saturday evening, my mother clutching a platter of wrapped Christmas cookies she baked and my dad with a bottle of wine in a festive bag. We walk into the house unannounced, my parents setting their offerings on a table already laden with plenty of food, my mother gushing over the pretty Christmas decorations.

“Fable Callahan always goes all out, every single year,” Mom says as she scans the room.

There are decorated trees everywhere, but the main tree stands tall in the living room, right in front of the window. I go to it, tilting my head back as I take it all in. The tree is flocked with white, the decorations red and green and gold, the lights twinkling. It’s truly a sight to see.

“Mom decorates every single bit of this house herself.”

I glance over to find Beck, standing next to me, a cup clutched in his hand and his head tilted back just like mine. “She doesn’t hire someone to do it for her?”

“The only person she hires is me.” He chuckles, the rich, warm sound wrapping all around me. I didn’t realize how much I missed hearing Beck laugh until this very moment. “Since I’m tall enough to put all the decorations up at the top, she makes me do it. And when I say hire, I mean I do it for free because she expects me to help.”

“I bet you don’t mind,” I say, my voice soft. He always speaks of his mother with such fondness, even when he’s trying to complain about her.

“No, I really don’t mind at all.” He glances over at me, a faint smile on his handsome face. Did he get better looking over the last couple of days? Maybe it’s the glow of the white lights from the tree reflecting off his face. Those sharp cheekbones and that firm jaw. The brown lock of hair falling across his forehead, which he just swiped away as if it irritates him. “How are you, Adds?”

I didn’t realize how much I missed his nickname for me either. “I’m okay. How about you?”

“All right. Glad finals are over.” He shakes his head. “They kicked my ass.”

“Same,” I agree. “How’d you do in history?”

He shrugs those broad shoulders. “Who knows? I’m hoping I catch a break.”

“Me too.”

“I’m sure you did fine. You always do.”

I could’ve helped him if he was struggling, but he’s the one who’s been so stubborn lately and wouldn’t talk to me. Like it was my fault we almost kissed—we were both guilty that time—equally responsible for the near miss. We should’ve never put ourselves in that situation in the first place.

He remains quiet while I stare at him and I know he can feel my gaze on him. I’m just waiting for him to do something. Say anything.

But he doesn’t.

Men. They’re ridiculous, I swear.

Since he’s being so tight-lipped, I decide to bring it up first.

“I’m surprised you’re talking to me.” When his gaze meets mine, I roll my eyes. “Considering how you’ve been ignoring me for the last few months.”

A sigh leaves him and he rubs the side of his neck, seemingly uncomfortable. “I messed up.”

I’m taken slightly aback by his honest admission. “What do you mean?”

“I shouldn’t have treated you that way. You’re my friend. And I was being a shit friend to you.”

“True.” Wow, I’m impressed he owned up to his faults. “I guess I should’ve forced you to talk to me sooner.”

“Like you used to when we were younger?”

I frown. “I did that?”

“Yeah, you don’t remember? Like, in the fifth grade, I’d try to ignore you all the time. My friends always made fun of me for being friends with you.” He grimaces at the confession.

“Really?” I’m shocked. “I don’t remember that at all.”

“I never told you they did that. And I let them know if they made fun of you at all for trying to talk to me, I would kick their ass.”

My heart turns over itself. “You said that?”

“You were my friend, Adds. I didn’t want them to do something shitty to you.” He hangs his head. “But then I went and did the shitty thing by trying to ignore you all the time. You’d never let me get away with it though. You were always following me around, demanding I talk to you. I couldn’t shake you if I tried. Eventually, I stopped trying and gave in.”

“Like now?” I lift a brow.

“Yeah.” He nods. “Like now.”

“I don’t want to fight with you,” I admit, swallowing hard. “And I don’t want you mad at me.”

“I was never mad at you. More like I was mad at myself for…doing what I did.” His steady gaze meets mine, his expression serious. “I’m sorry for that. For what I said. What I tried to do.”

“I’m sorry too.” His apology is appreciated, but it’s also a little disappointing. He regrets trying to make a move on me, and I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s madly in love with his girlfriend. And speaking of her…

“Where’s Sasha?” I glance around the room, surprised she’s not hovering nearby. Or whisking him away from me. She tends to monopolize all of his time well…

All of the time.

“She’s in Utah with her family. They planned a skiing trip for Christmas. She wanted me to go. Her parents invited me, but my mom said hell no.” He cracks the barest smile. “She told me that she only gets a couple more Christmases with her baby, and doesn’t want to miss a moment with me. Kind of embarrassing when she said those exact words to Mrs. Rodriguez too, but I didn’t want to go to Utah with them anyway, so it all worked out.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet. Your mom really loves you.”

He ducks his head, his mouth curved into a smile. “It’s fine. She likes us. She wants all her babies with her during the holidays and it doesn’t happen like it used to. Everyone’s busy living their lives. I’m the only one still home.”

“And eventually you’ll be away at college. Busy with your life too,” I point out.

“I’ll never be too busy for my mom though.”

Some might call Beck a mama’s boy, but I call him a guy who loves and respects his mother and, in turn, respects all women. That’s not a bad trait to have.

In fact, it’s a pretty good one.

“Want something to eat?” he asks, changing the subject.

“Definitely.”

I follow him into the kitchen, where there’s a massive spread of food on the giant island in the center of the room. I grab a plate and fill it with a variety of yummy things. Veggies and dips and crackers and meats and cheeses. Beck follows behind me, loading his plate high with a pile of food as well. We find a spot to sit in the dining room, two chairs placed side by side against the wall, so that when we settle into them, our arms are pressed next to each other, his firm with muscle, reminding me of just how strong he is.

Capable Beck with his capable arms and capable, good heart.

I withhold the sigh that wants to escape. Why couldn’t he be mine?

Pushing the thought out of my head, I focus on him as Beck, my friend. We laugh and talk while we eat, gossiping about mutual friends and things going on at school. Teachers and our final projects and tests. What the second semester of our junior year is going to look like, and how he’s going to do track this spring to work on his speed for football.

We don’t bring up Sasha or Jonah. We carefully keep them out of our conversation, and I’m fine with it. More than fine with it.

At one point, I let my imagination get carried away, thinking this is what it would be like, to be with Beck. Easy conversation and lots of laughter. Shared friends and interests. We just…get along. We always have. Would things change between us if we pursued a romantic relationship?

Of course they would. Instead of just being friends, we’d be the ones hanging all over each other, not Beck and Sasha. I could touch him whenever I wanted. Grab his hand. Settle my hand on his arm. Rest my head against his chest, so I could listen to his beating heart—

“What are you thinking right now?” His deep voice interrupts my nonfriendly thoughts, and my cheeks burn hot at getting caught.

“Nothing.” I shake my head.

“Uh huh. Come on. You can tell me.” He’s grinning, the jerk.

“I was thinking about your fifth-grade confession and how you tried to avoid me, but I wouldn’t let you.” This is when I take my moment and give in to my earlier urges.

Reaching out, I press my hand against his bicep and give him a gentle shove. He doesn’t move an inch, he’s so solid and strong, and I let my hand rest on his arm for a beat too long, savoring the sensation of firm muscle beneath my fingers. The warmth of his skin under the black sweater he’s wearing. Sitting this close, I can smell his intoxicating scent. Clean like soap. Spicy like cologne.

“You’re persistent when you want to be.” His gaze is warm as he watches me, and I lose myself in his eyes for a moment.

Then I remove my hand from his arm and I scoot away a little, needing the distance. I need to remain strong and not fall under his spell, I tell myself.

But there’s something about Beck that makes it so easy. He’s magnetic.

Charming.

Handsome.

And my friend.

Just my friend.