The twenty seventh of December is the earliest that I'll venture out of the apartment after Christmas. To be honest, it's still too soon. There are sales on. Big sales. Seventy percent off sales and buy one get one free sales. Manhattan turns into an absolute mad house. More so than it is. But I'd agreed to meet Alouise at Oslo's coffee roasters. It's on 75th which is about a ten minute walk from 84th where I am.

I don't mind walking. Even in below freezing temperatures. It opens up the mind. It allows thought and in some ways it unloads some of the tension that can gather. Although, most of the time, ear pods are required to drown out some of the white noise that comes with such a busy city.

After I've pulled on a pair of thermals, jeans, thick woolen socks, a pair of genuine leather boots and a hooded coat, I check my cellphone and smile at the text message from Dylan. He sent it this morning before the sun had even come up.

Hey. Come by work at lunch time. We should talk about New Years. x

It goes without saying that he's going to cook up something delicious for me. Whenever Dylan tells me to come into work, he has a hot plate of food waiting for me in the kitchen. So there's the excitement over that. However, the second half of his text leaves me unnerved. We've had a New Year's tradition for as long as I can remember. His mom and dad take us to Atlanta. Every year. Sure, there's a lot of excitement that happens right here in the big apple, but Atlanta has always been special to us.

We go and enjoy the live bands, the food stalls, the entertainment and we watch the fireworks light up Stone Mountain. Dylan and his family had been spending New Year's eve in a different place for as long as they could remember. And the year that Dylan and I met happened to be the year that they would spend in Atlanta. After that, we begged to go back every year. There was a magic about it that never faded for us. For that night, just that one night, we were whoever we wanted to be.

But then Charlie happened. She couldn't get time off work last year, so she couldn't come. But this year she would be around for New Year's Eve and so this year, I didn't feel as enthusiastic about holding up traditions. In fact, I'd been making other plans for a while now. I just hadn't told Dylan. But I had to. It was fast approaching and I couldn't put it off forever.

As I wander past the kitchen to leave the apartment, the smart fridge must sensor me because it lights up, beeps and asks what I'll be having for breakfast this morning. I almost pass out from fright. I hate that stupid fridge. Sure, it asks what I'm having for breakfast. But it doesn't cook. It just makes one sided conversation that's pointless answering because it's not smart enough to keep it up.

Heart still thudding, I flip it off and storm out of the apartment. If I wasn't so in love with my bedroom, I would have moved out. Perhaps that wasn't quite true. I didn't have a job and while I had a trust fund, that would run out if I wasn't careful. Not working was tragic. I needed to do something. Dylan offered me a job at his restaurant, as a waitress. But I hadn't become quite that desperate. Not that there was anything wrong with being a waitress but my father was going to have a meltdown at whatever I chose to do. It might be a touch less aggressive if it's not a minimum wage job.

When I arrive at Oslo's, I pause outside and admire the building for a moment. It's black iron with wooden bench seats and green climbing vines curling up the steel bars on the windows. Next door, the building is made of burnt orange brick and the same black iron doors. It'd make a beautiful photo. Rustic. It reminds me that I should have brought the new camera with me. I wasn't used to keeping one on me. I'd have to get back into the habit. I'd also have to keep it hidden from dad so that it doesn't end up as a pile of plastic pieces again.

"Alright, what's wrong?" Alouise glares before my butt has even hit the wooden seat in the corner of the cafe.

She ordered for me. There's a steaming hot mocha with a cute chocolate swirl waiting to be downed. It'll have three sugars in it too. I can't have my coffee unless it's sickeningly sweet.

Much to Dylan's disgust.

Just thinking about him again has me in a bundle of uninvited nerves. Alouise must notice because she wraps her bronze hand around her mug, lifts it to her full lips and raises a thin but perfect brow.

"Nothing's wrong."

"Something is wrong. I know something's wrong. I am never wrong about their being something wrong."

She's right. She's never wrong. Alouise is good at recognising tells and reading emotions. It's part of what makes her such a savvy lawyer. Which is where we'd met. Law school. We'd hit it off from the get go and while she'd been disappointed that we wouldn't be at school together when I left two years later, she knew that I was miserable and suffering.

She pushed her wild rich brow curls behind her shoulder and fixed me with a pointed glare. She truly was frighteningly beautiful. Velvet smooth skin, delicate but striking features and feline eyes. I knew that she could let her hair down and have a laugh but she was so professional and poised and capable of holding herself strong and steadfast that if someone didn't know better, you could believe that she was out for blood and she wasn't afraid of whoever might want to get in her way.

I knew the day that we met that she'd be a fierce lawyer and I wasn't wrong. She was winning cases left and right and she'd not long graduated.

But Alouise isn't  just a lawyer to me. She's a friend and she's lost her ability to intimidate me. Wait. No. That isn't quite true. She still scares the hell out of me. But that doesn't mean that I cave at the first sign of pressure. So I copy her, throwing my blonde hair back and sipping the sweet mocha.

"There's nothing wrong. Can we not start these little catch ups so doom and gloom. What's been happening? How's the firm?"

Her narrow stare did nothing to move me into a confession. I didn't feel like sharing the fact that I'd caught feelings for my best friend of ten years. I most certainly didn't want to admit that I wasn't sure if the feelings were all that new. The more that I pondered, the more I had to wonder, had I felt like this, deep down, the entire time?

"You're frowning again," Allie, as I nicknamed her, snapped me out of wandering thoughts and I realised that I hadn't been listening to her fill me in on the life of law. It was sort of hard to enthuse. Dad had soured the entire profession, beyond the point of no return. But friendship required both parties to listen and hear and offer advice. So I tried.

Head down, I watch the steam rising from my cup and count down the seconds until the focus is moved from me to literally anything else. I'd come here under the impression that I would tell Allie how I was feeling and what had happened over Christmas. But now the words were stuck in my throat and refusing to budge. She sighed after a moment.

"How was Christmas? How's Ho?"

"He's good. Christmas was chaotic as usual."

Ho, known better to his mom and dad as Young-ho, is Allie's husband. It took me a solid six months before I could refer to him as Ho. For obvious childish reasons. But he refused to go by Young-ho, which he's sure is much worse and despises his parents for naming him when he was raised in Western culture and not Korea where his parent's moved from. He's got a great sense of humor, style and he's never not smiling. He's an accountant in the same building as Allie and the two met during an intership that she did a few summers ago. It was love at first sight. Apparently. I'm not so sold that it exists but the two of them are adorable together.

"Plans for New Years?" I ask, wiping a mocha mo off my top lip. Allie sighs.

"I wouldn't mind going out of town. Hell even watching the ball drop would be fun. But Ho is on this quest to get me pregnant and you know what his little superstitious self is like. He's convinced that if we're pounding our way into the New Year, I'm guaranteed to get pregnant."

I laugh so hard that I have to put my cup down for a minute. Allie rolls her eyes as if to tell me she know's how insane it sounds. But she's also smiling because she adores Ho and all of his strange little ideas and logic. 

"Aw but I am so excited for the babies," I coo. "They'll be so cute. I wonder what they'll look like."

"I know right," she tilts her head, thoughtful and excited. "Like will they be more Asian or more black? Ho is hoping for them to take after me I think. Mostly to piss off his mom."

We both giggle which earns us a curt glance from the table of little old women a few feet from us. As if our laughter is somehow loud and disturbing compared to the constant thrum of chatter, whirring of coffee machines and sizzling of bacon on the hot plate that's preparing breakfast for some of the diners. I grit my teeth and bare the scowling. Oldies are so hit and miss. Either they're the friendliest loveliest people on the planet, or they're the worst. There doesn't seem to be an in between. I'm deciding right here and now that I'll be a lovely oldie.

"So how's uh," Allie clicks her fingers. "The painter. I can't remember his name."

"Oh. I broke it off with him."

"What? When?"

"Christmas Eve."

"Bea," she gapes. "Really? The day before Christmas. Poor dude."

I shrug. "I wasn't feeling it."

"You're never feeling it."

"That's not true. I was with Jackie for like two months."

"Until you caught her shmacking your dad."

"Yeah that was uncalled for. Plus she didn't like Dylan and we couldn't threesie it to the movies or dinner or anything. Deal breaker right there."

"So if I didn't like Dyl?"

"You'd be gone," I shrugged. "He's my main."

She nodded with amusement. "I think you have a more intimate relationship with him than you had with Joey. That one was like four months long."

I pursed my lips and felt my heart speeding up. She wasn't wrong. She had no idea how close to the truth she was. She'd actually probably have some great advice for me if I wasn't so afraid of admitting the truth out loud.

"He's getting married in June."

"June?!"

I nodded and Allie fell back into her seat, finger at her temple.

"Why do you look so shocked?" I asked. "I'm allowed to be shocked. I think rushing into marriage is the the stupidest, worst decision that a person can make. I have a leg to stand on. You married Ho within like six months of being engaged. Where's your leg, Allie?"

"It's about to be standing on your neck if you don't lower your tone," she sat up again and I chuckled. "Anyway. That was different. Ho and I are in love and were in love and had something. . . passionate. Dylan and Charlie have all the chemistry of close colleagues who respect each other, share a mild attraction, but have a definite undertone of resentment towards each other."

"That's oddly specific. Personal experience?"

"It was a long time ago. The point is, it feels like a divorce waiting to happen. But that's none of my business."

"It's mine though," I mumble, staring down at my chewed nails. A terrible habit that became worse with an anxiety flare. I pinched my thumb between my fist, inhaled a deep breath and resisted the urge to chew. "I think I-- have feelings for him, Allie."

She raised a brow and said nothing for what felt like a lifetime. It can't have been though. Nothing in my life seemed to be moving slow right now.

"Should I pretend that I'm surprised?" She said. "Or just come right out and admit that I've been waiting to hear that from the moment I saw you two dancing like morons to Thank God It's Friday in IHOP that first time I met him?"

"Seriously?" I threw my hands up. "You as well?"

She pursed her lips, brows raised and shrugged. "I can see it."

"I don't know how. We've been friends forever. Shouldn't everyone be like, ew he's like a brother to you, how could you feel that way."

"Mmm no," Allie shook her head. "No I don't see that. I see it more like two people who have fucked around for far too long but are clearly attracted to each other and care. . . a lot. But that's none of my business."

"Of course we care about each other. We're best friends."

"Is he like your brother? Is that how you see him?"

I pierced her with a narrow glare. "Have you been talking to Brecken?"

She recoiled. "Hell no. I can't stand that boy."

I nodded from side to side and took a deep breath. "I can't feel like this. I can't. I just have to turn it off and move on."

"Why don't you do something crazy and just tell him how you feel?"

"Because!" I almost shout but lower my voice when I see the table of little oldies glaring this way again. "Because if he doesn't feel the same, I lose the most important person in my life. The risk is too high."

"I think he would feel the same girl. I think he has for a long time."

I shake my head and refuse to let hope grow. "Like I said, the risk is too high. We either both feel the same and date which could end badly and we'd have lost both love and friendship. Or he tells me it's not like that for him and everything becomes awkward and tense. Either way, nothing would ever go back to the way it was and I can't lose what we have right now. I can't. This isn't the movies. The camera doesn't stop rolling after we smile and agree to be friends after the whole shit show has unfolded. The camera and life keeps on going. I just don't want to lose what we have."

Allie gives me a flat stare. "You left out the scenario where he does feel the same, you date, fall in love, get married, have beautiful babies and live happily ever after."

"Not to mention, he's engaged," I ignore her.

She scoffs. "Let's not use Charlie as an example. She's barely a human being."

"But she is. And I'm sure that she has feelings somewhere deep down in that cold exterior of hers. I can't steal a man from another woman."

"Ho was engaged when I met him."

"Yeah. I know," I shake my head at her. "You're the embodiment of everything I dislike about a female. You steal other people's men. You rush into marriage. You drink black coffee!"

"And you have no career focus, you're flaky and you can't commit. To anything."

"Why are we friends?" I smile at her and she smiles right back.

"No clue. But I do love you."

"I love you too."

At lunch time, I wander into the The Hot Plate. It's a large restaurant but it feels cozy. The dark red and rich wood tones are warm. There's a fire place at the back with a set of sofas on either side of it. Frames of art work are hung. Displayed for local artists that are
attempting to make rent and build a career. That was how I'd met Max, actually. He'd been in here having lunch and watching how much traffic was stopping in front of his paintings.

I'm not sure why he'd want to listen to people discussing, dissecting and judging his work. The concept itself is morbid and something that I couldn't even fathom finding interest in. The worst part was when he'd hear a negative critique. He'd get up and spend the next half n hour intensely explaining to the person why his painting was so unique and enriching.

I wandered through the tables, slipped past the bar and walked through to the kitchen where Dylan was clad in his chef coat and an expression so full of concentration and passion that he didn't even notice me watching him. He was topping off a dish with herbs and dressing. The presentation was just as important as the flavor and he never failed to put all of his love into every single plate.

"Please tell me that's mine," I said and he looked up, smiled so big and then continued drizzling dressing over the salad.

"Look good?"

"Delicious."

I wandered over to stand beside him and said hello to the other staff. Benson, Hallie and Cora. All cooking and just as hard at work. Then there was Lia, James and Rennie who were darting in and out of the kitchen to wait tables and deliver dishes. Dylan was particular in his hiring process. He could sniff out passion and dedication to providing an excellent service. But he never discriminated on experience or lack thereof. He believed in giving people a chance, even if that meant spending the time teaching them. He was born to run his own business. His parents knew that too which is the reason they had been so eager to invest in his restaurant in the first place.

"Alright," he dusted off his hands, picked up the plate and held it in front of me. "Here we have a fine cut piece of premium red meat, marinated, laid on focaccia bread and sprinkled in cracked pepper and rock salt. To the side we have thick sliced potatoes cooked in boiling temperatures until golden and a side of salad drizzled with balsamic."

"And in basic terms," I said, taking the plate and hearing the sound of my stomach rumbling. "An open steak sandwich, fries and salad."

Dylan let his shoulders droop with a sigh. "Yep. Just the way you like it. I wish you'd let me cook you something adventurous for once. I think you'd love my Island Duck with Mulberry Mustard."

"Pass," I winced and wandered through into the staff room so that I could sit down and eat. Dylan followed close behind and I was struck again with that overwhelming sensation of feeling all fluttery and ridiculous. "I love what I love. You can be adventurous with dessert. I'll eat anything if it's dessert."

"Alright," he sat on the opposite side of the table from me and clasped his hands. "Deal. Next time, it's dessert for lunch."

I smiled and started cutting into the steak with a knife and fork. I didn't come in here all the time for lunch. But when I did, whatever was waiting for me was something delicious and something that I loved. Steak. Open chicken wraps. Pasta. I preferred simple food. Which I think drove Dylan a little bit insane. But he catered to it regardless.

"So," he tilted his head to meet my eyes as I shoved a mouthful of food into my gob. "New Years Eve. Mom has booked our usual spot. We've arranged a rental car for the night. Not that we'll be driving much, huh. Um what else. . . oh I think Charlie is coming."

I stared at him while I chewed and hoped that I could swallow my rage at the same time as this steak because while I wasn't surprised that was what he wanted to tell me, I was still disappointed. Truly though, I had no reason to be disappointed. She is his fiancee. I can't expect her not to be there.

"You could have told me that over a text," I murmured, suddenly losing my appetite. "You didn't need to feed me and butter me up just to let me know that Satan is coming to New Years Eve with us."

He sighed. "I'm sorry. I know it's hard. But I can't not bring her, Bea."

I nodded. "No, I know. It doesn't matter anyway. I've made other plans for New Year's Eve."

His brows pulled. "You have? Don't tell me you've just decided to change your plans because of this?"

"No. I've booked flights and all of that. I just didn't want to tell you because I knew that you'd be disappointed and I felt sort of bad. But I also knew that Charlie would be joining you this time and I can't deal with being stuck with her for that long."

"Well, what are you doing instead?"

"I'm going to New Zealand. A place called the coromandel. I've heard it's beautiful and relatively safe. Which is why I'm okay going alone."

"New Zealand?" He leans forward a little more. "I've always wanted to visit that place."

He sits there, all thoughtful and quiet for a moment while I eat. It's hard not to stare at him. It's hard not to tell him that my heart is beating stupid fast at the way he runs his fingers through his mess of beautiful chocolate brown hair. His jawline. His cheekbones. He's so beautiful and I just have to sit here and pretend that I'm not falling apart over this newfound attraction.

"What if I came with you?" He finally said.

"I'm not sharing my holiday with Charlie. No way in hell."

"What if it's just me?"

I scoffed and set my knife and fork down. "She's not going to let you come to New Zealand with me, Dyl. She'd never go for it. I mean, I would love to go to New Zealand with you. But it's not going to happen."

"It's gonna happen," he said with a sly grin. "I'm coming with you. Alright? I'll be there. Send me the flight details and I'll arrange the rest. Just me and you. Yeah?"

My heart sped up with hope and I nodded, letting excitement pulse through me. Regardless of how I felt. This was still my best friend and I would love nothing more than to go on a short vacation to a beautiful sunshine location with him for a few days. I hoped that he could make it happen.

~

Ashley_Mariex was so excited about the fact that I brought this book back, that she made me these adorable edits bless her heart.