Because you're our friend.

Friend.

Friend.

I pierced a cube of watermelon with my fork, threw it into my mouth, and crunched down on it like it was the one who'd friendzoned me the night before. The true culprit—all golden-haired and dreamy-eyed—was all the way up the other end of my mother's new oak table, swapping terrible Christmas jokes with David while the morning sun cast a striking aura around his perfectly chiseled frame.

Even in a simple fitted shirt and dark blue jeans, James looked far too good for ten-thirty in the morning. I should have been used to it, but it made my stomach twist with unrealized desire even more.

Because you're our friend.

That was possibly the worst thing that he could have said. It made me wish that I'd never asked that stupid question in the first place. That I'd never found the courage to ask him where we stood. If I hadn't, I would still be living in my comfortable world of fantasy and delusion. My heart would still be beating with the hope that he wanted us to be more than what we were now. That he wanted what I did.

For someone who liked to work with numbers, formulas, and facts, I sure did enjoy the promises of fiction.

"Why are Christmas trees so bad at knitting?" Dex asked, reading the tiny line of parchment that fell from our cracker.

"Because they don't have hands," I replied dryly.

"Because they always drop their needles."

I rolled my eyes, but I'm sure he caught the shadow of a smile on my lips. It was hard to stay miserable when Dex was around.

My mother rose regally from the head of the table to collect the used dishes and cutlery. She'd pulled out all the stops for our spontaneous brunch in lieu of Christmas dinner, and I didn't have the heart to tell her that I doubted very much that fancy china and crystal would impress my road trip companions—three of which lived in literal mansions.

She waved a hand as Holly started to rise, too, motioning to me with a nod of her head. "Oh no, honey. Madison and I can manage."

That was my cue.

I stood to help her while the rest of our party finished off the (messy) crackers and (terrible) jokes, making sure I didn't trip on Bandit as she rushed around to gather the scraps. She was staying suspiciously close to James, and it was only when I was about to duck out of the room that I realized it was because he was feeding her under the table.

Typical. James had barely spent a full day with my mother, my stepfather, and my dog, and he already had all of them wrapped around his little finger.

"The ski resort sounds beautiful," my mother said as we began loading the dishwasher.

The guys had spent brunch recalling almost every one of their Christmas' up in the snowy mountains, and while I'd already heard each of their stories one hundred times over, I couldn't deny that the resort sounded magical.

"I haven't seen snow at Christmas since before I married your father."

I smiled softly. "Dad hated the cold."

"He was also terrible at skiing, though he'd never admit it."

I laughed alongside her, putting the last of the silverware away before closing the dishwasher door. I caught my reflection in the steel, noting the lingering concern that was buried beneath my strained smile. She must have noticed it at the same time as I did, because when I straightened my posture, she was peering back at me with an oddly inquisitive gaze.

I grimaced.

She frowned.

"Are you ... you know ..." I wrung my hands awkwardly. Being vulnerable wasn't a skill of mine. It certainly wasn't familiar to my mother. But knots were pulling in my stomach—ones strikingly similar to a feeling of guilt—and I had to at least try to untangle them before I left.

We all knew how well I dealt with pent-up emotion.

"Are sure that you're okay with this?" I finally spat out. "With me going to the resort and you guys going on the cruise? You were so excited when I said I was coming home for Christmas."

"Well, we had a lovely brunch, didn't we?" She swiveled on her strappy gold heels, her expression turning unsure. "Didn't we?"

I swallowed a laugh. To everyone else, my mother was one of the most intimidating women in Capri. Maybe even on the entire coast. But I knew that behind the immaculate veneer and designer clothes, all she really wanted was approval.

"Of course we did," I reassured her.

Her worry dissipated, and she threw me a grateful smile.

"I just want to make sure that you're okay with this," I tried again, reaching for a sponge to clean the water from the marble countertop. "With us not being together for Christmas."

While I was excited about joining the guys on the road—actually, excited might have been an understatement—I had to admit that I'd gotten a little swept up in the moment the night before. When James invited me to the resort, it sounded like a great idea. Spending Christmas day with him sounded like a great idea. And, sure, it was only as a friend. It wasn't in the capacity that I wanted it to be. But it was enough. Just having James in my life in any capacity was enough.

It would have to be, at least.

But while my mother had expressed nothing but enthusiasm over the idea, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was asking too much of her. That I was being selfish. It was Christmas, after all, and I'd always been taught that family should be together for Christmas.

She drew her eyebrows together, a sweet smile taking up residence on her perfect pink pout.

"Madison," she cooed softly, reaching out to squeeze my arm. "Of course I'm okay with it. You're growing up. You're in college, and I would be a terrible mother if I forced you to miss out on these kinds of experiences."

"You wouldn't be forcing me—"

"Darling ..." She shook her head, causing her drop earrings to sway beneath her ears. "If I've learned one thing over these last few months, it's that we don't need to be together all the time in order to be a family."

She had a point. In fact, we'd never been closer than after I moved away for college. Maybe that was messed up, but it worked for us.

She leaned against the counter, her white blazer and tailored dress becoming one with the kitchen's all-white trimmings. She was eyeing me suspiciously, her head cocked in thought.

"I like these kids, Madison." She pursed her lips, but I could see that it was in an effort to mask a mischievous smile. Dianna Watson never came right out and said anything on her mind. She often spoke in code, and it was up to the receiver to retrieve the message from within her coated words. "I think they're good for you. All of them."

My mind reeled. Was she referring to Holly? I'd barely spoken two words to the girl since arriving in Capri. In all fairness, I'd been rather distracted with Lola. But I wouldn't put it past my eagle-eyed mother to see that there was something bitter lurking underneath mine and Holly's sugary smiles.

"Moving on is always difficult," she continued, turning her back and busying herself with the pot of coffee. But I knew her too well, and I knew she was only trying to hide that flash of mirth in her almond eyes.

A flash that told me that she wasn't referring to Holly at all.

"But with the right person," she said, "it can be the best thing in the world for you."

It took less than a second for me to figure out what she was actually saying. It took me even less time to roll my eyes defiantly.

But that didn't stop an incriminating heat from dancing on my cheeks.

My fingers were locked, aching with tension, while my throat was so coarse and dry. My heart was beating faster than the time I first rode the rickety rollercoaster on the pier when I was six years old. My vision started to blur over, and it was only when I started feeling lightheaded that I realized it was because I wasn't breathing.

I had three very big problems that were a recipe for an even bigger one.

One, I was driving James Bennet's Range Rover.

Two, I was a terrible driver.

Three, James' car was worth more than my life.

So, four, there was a very high chance that, at some point during my designated driving time, mine and James' friendship was going to crash and burn at the very same time as his precious car did.

I'd been able to dodge the rotation on the way up to Capri. My hometown was only half a day's ride from university, and there'd been little need to change drivers on that leg of the trip. But now that we were well and truly on the road, there was no escaping the fact that all of us were going to have to get behind the wheel at some point.

The incredibly expensive wheel that controlled the incredibly expensive car.

I just prayed that I wouldn't have to parallel park. That was a recipe for a busted tail light.

"Oh my god!" Noah squealed from the passenger seat.

My body jolted instinctually, and I immediately started looking around to figure out what I'd done wrong. But he pointed past me and out the crystal-clear window, motioning to a large shopping complex up ahead with a look of wonder on his face.

"Pull in!"

"Pull in?" My eyes left the road to scan over the enormous plaza, taking in the festive window displays and decorative billboards swathing it from head to toe. I couldn't deny that the entire thing made me feel extremely Christmas-y, especially after a day on the extremely un-Christmas-y coast.

"Noah ..." James' leaned over from his spot in the back, his spicy cologne flipping my stomach more than it already had been. While I usually reveled in the seductive scent that was James Bennet, in that stressful moment, it was a very unwelcome distraction. "We don't have time to go shopping—"

"No, not shopping," Noah groaned dismissively, closing Bumble to pull up his notes app. He scrolled down a little, then held up the device so his friend could get a good look. "Number Eleven: Ice skating. There's a rink in there, see?"

Sure enough, a billboard above the exit displayed a picture of a happy family gliding around an ice rink.

"We're still doing that list thing, huh?" I groaned.

"We never stopped. Which reminds me, how was your gingerbread?"

I spared a glance at Noah, peering at him guiltily if not slightly curiously. How did he know about the gingerbread?

"I'm terrible at skating," Dex whined from the back.

"I can teach you," Holly offered from beside him. "I skated when I was younger."

Of course she did.

"You're going to miss the exit, Madi," Noah exclaimed loudly.

"Wait," I cried, my head flicking back and forth between my warring passengers and the road. "What are we doing?"

"We're going straight to the resort," James affirmed.

"Shopping!" Noah declared.

"I thought you said no shopping?"

"Guys?" I urged, my voice growing more and more shrill. I cast a look at the GPS as though it could help me. It didn't. Especially not after I saw the notification lighting up the screen.

James' phone must have still been hooked up to the Bluetooth. At least, that's what I assumed when I saw that the notification was from Blair.

Blair with the Purple Heart Emoji.

'Can't wait to see you baaabe—' was all I caught before it cut out.

My stomach dipped.

"We have to do a little shopping," Noah was explaining to James when I tuned back into the conversation. "I saw that text from your mother this morning. The one about the ugly sweater party—"

"Guys!" I cried again. The car was almost drifting into the next lane with the uncertainty of where the hell we were going.

Noah disregarded my incessant shrieking, tilting his head at his friend instead. "We don't even have sweaters. We have to get sweaters, James."

The blond behind me sighed, his hand gripping the back of my chair as he leaned in closer. I could see the muscle on his arm pulsing in the mirror, and my breath staggered even more at the thought of it being so damn close to me.

His mouth opened and closed, the memory of dissent evaporating into the air. With a hearty groan, he sunk back into his leather-lined seat. "Fine."

"Yay!" Holly squealed, clapping her hands together like a child on Christmas morning.

"Is that okay with you, Madi?" Noah asked. I didn't miss the wry expression he threw me ever-so-quickly—the same one he'd thrown me in the car the day before. "It's all for the sake of our little theory, after all."

I turned on the blinker in answer to his question, resulting in another celebratory cry from him and Holly both. I thought I even saw James indulge in a smile.

Honestly, I was just happy to be off driving duty.

Holly truly was a miniature Tonya Harding. Minus the knee whacking, of course.

She was so dainty and perfect on the ice, which should hardly have come as much of a surprise. Some things in life are just a matter of logical consequence. James was always hot, Holly was always perfect, Dex was always a whiny baby with a perfect little button nose. While Dex and I teetered around on our skates as gracefully as baby giraffes learning how to stand, Holly and Noah were captivating the afternoon crowd with twirls and tricks that made my head spin.

But that was just Holly Tapia. She was a star. The worst part, though, was that she appeared to be entirely humble about it.

I knew better.

Needless to say, I was back on the bench far sooner than she was. I busied myself replying to a picture Kara had sent me of her cat's new kittens before I felt the guys plop down beside me one-by-one. James had bypassed skating in order to fetch us some sweaters from Target, and for that, I was grateful. While I had my answer to the question of whether or not there was something more between us than just friendship, I still couldn't bear the thought of him watching me stagger around on my skates, gripping onto equally-as-uncoordinated Dex for dear life.

"I have a snowman, a reindeer, and a Santa," he relayed, picking the assortment of festive sweaters out of a bag to show us.

But the ones he was holding were at least three sizes too big for me.

"What about me?" I asked weakly.

James hesitated, his eyes piercing me in a way that I should have been used to. They were just so damn piercing. But I couldn't quite read his expression as well as I usually could, and it made our intense second of eye-contact all the more confusing.

Before I could even begin to figure out what he was thinking, he broke my gaze to reach back into the bag. When his hand reappeared, it was gripping onto a white woolen turtleneck.

It was noticeably smaller than the others, decorated with tiny, glistening snowflakes sewn with silver wool. But it was the picture in the middle that resuscitated my stilled heart—a goofy-looking gingerbread man wearing a bright red Santa hat.

"I kept the receipt in case you want to exchange it."

My eyes found his again. We could only have been looking at each other for another fraction of a second, but that fraction felt like an eternity.

Still, it wasn't long enough. I wanted to stare at him all day long, and I never wanted to feel like I had to look away.

"I don't," I assured him.

His mouth turned upwards in a smile that mirrored mine—small, barely-there, but visible enough that it awoke those annoying butterflies in my stomach. God, he was cute. And thoughtful. Had he bought the gingerbread sweater on purpose?

Noah's head popped forward, shielding James' face from my view. The bemused Hufflepuff frowned, running a hand over the jumper as he dissected the ornate pattern. "Isn't this supposed to be an ugly sweater party? This is utterly adorable. In fact, I want one."

I rolled my eyes, though I really should have been used to Noah shopping in my wardrobe at that point.

A round of applause erupted from behind us, and we turned back to the rink to see the cause of the crowd's captivation. The families on the ice had carved out a circle in the middle, and it looked like the person in the center had just finished up a routine.

Holly welcomed their applause with a bashful smile.

She really was the main character.

She floated towards us, kicking up her feet seconds before she rocketed into the barricade. "How long do we have until you want to get back on the road?"

"That depends," James said, pulling back his sleeve from over his Rolex. "How soon do you need to be at your parents' place?"

Holly made a face as she grabbed her phone, straightening out the pink scarf that had tangled during one of her tricks. "Well, that's just it. Turns out that my brother's girlfriend is coming home for Christmas after all, and my parents and I sort of haven't gotten her anything. I was thinking about popping into Sephora or something."

James shrugged, conferring the rest of us in turn. Conferring even me like I would dare to protest. I didn't, of course—a half-hour was hardly going to make that big of a difference in the grand scheme of things.

With that, Holly exited the rink and took off for the shops.

Noah was frowning in thought when I looked back to him. But his eyes quickly sprung open, a seemingly brilliant idea lighting up his face with enthusiasm.

"This is perfect, actually." He stood expertly in his skates, making me wonder if he, too, was a Harding in the making.

"What is?" Dex asked.

"This. Us being here. I'm assuming the two of you haven't gotten Madi anything for Christmas?"

James and Dex shuffled on the spot, their awkward silence sufficiently answering Noah's question.

"Exactly," the latter exclaimed. "And this is the perfect opportunity to remedy that—"

"Oh, you guys don't have to get me anything!" I laughed, conveniently side-stepping the fact that I hadn't gotten them anything either. "Just letting me tag along is more than enough."

"It's not really about that, Mads." Dex grimaced, straightening out the red beanie atop his mop of auburn locks. "I mean it is, of course. But it's our mothers, too. They'll definitely freak out if you don't have anything to open on Christmas morning."

"Understatement of the year," Noah murmured before turning to me with a sheepish grin. "So, you see, buying you a gift is more about saving our asses than it is about ... well, you."

I couldn't help but laugh. "How lovely."

"You know what I mean."

I rolled my eyes playfully, slinging my purse over my arm. "I guess I'm going to have to get you guys something, too, then?"

James shook his head immediately, stepping forward before Noah had time to agree. "Absolutely not."

"Absolutely yes. I'm not not getting you anything if you're all getting something for me."

"But that hardly seems fair. We only have to buy one present for you, but you have to buy three for us?"

"Huh," Dex mused to himself. "Yeah, that is a pretty crappy deal."

I peered back between the two of them incredulously, their insinuation silencing me for only a moment before I shrieked, "I'm not broke, you know!"

Both of them instantly swallowed their smiles. I don't know why they were peering at me like a toddler having a tantrum, but I knew for sure that I didn't like it.

I folded my arms stubbornly. "If you won't let me buy you guys gifts, then I won't let you buy me a gift. That's ridiculous."

How on earth I was going to stop two six-foot guys from walking passed me and into the mall, I wasn't quite sure. But by the expressions on their faces, I felt like they knew I could.

Noah, on the other hand, wasn't one to give up so easily. He clicked his fingers together loudly, sticking up his pointer finger like he had an idea.

Noah was just full of ideas, apparently.

"I know!" he said, confirming my thoughts. "Secret Santa!"

"Secret Santa?" I repeated.

"Yeah. You know, Kris Kringle?"

I swallowed a laugh—not for the first time that day. "I know what Secret Santa is."

"Great!" He beamed, wasting no time to scurry about in his backpack. "So, it's settled. We each buy one present for one person. Honestly, I don't know why this wasn't on the list in the first place. Dex, give me your beanie." He stuck out his hand without looking up, nor did he wait for even one of us to agree with him before he began writing our names down on a blank sheet of paper in his notebook.

Just like me, Dex and James were incredibly amused by Noah's tirade. Unlike me, they seemed to at least expect it.

My auburn-haired friend sighed, pulling the woolen beanie from his head and surrendering it to his friend's outstretched hand.

"Alright." Noah ripped the page from the spine before tearing it into four little pieces. He mixed them around inside of Dex's hat, meeting me with a look that was equally as playful as it was commanding. "Ladies' first."

Place your bets for Secret Santa! Who's getting who?? —>

After the last chapter, we now know for sure that Madi's feelings for James are reciprocated. We know that, but Madi doesn't—she's still where we were in chapter four, analyzing James' words and gestures and taking him at face value. I appreciate that it's very, very frustrating for you guys to have to watch them muddle their way through their self-imposed friend zone, but I ask that you bear with them as they figure things out!

And, lastly, Merry Christmas or Christmas Eve depending on where you are in the world! My Wattpad friends have been the best present I could have received this year, and I'm so grateful to have you all here. I hope that you have a magical day and a happy New Year!

- Danielle 🎄❤️