So splitting my time between them is going to be a challenge. Although it’s a lot more complicated since my best friend is also my girlfriend’s brother. Now all I want is to hang out at the Waters’ place on Lake Geneva. And for whatever reason, my parents always let me. I always had an excuse to get out of dinners and group events. That’s exactly what I used to do during the holidays when our families got together. “You won’t be hiding the whole break, avoiding Lavender anymore.”

“How do you mean?” I refold one of my t-shirts because it’s not lying flat. “It’s gonna be a little different this year, huh?” Sometimes life is fucking weird.īJ rolls the chair back and props one elbow on my desk. I made Lavender’s first two months of college miserable. I hadn’t wanted to do any more damage, so I stayed away. Because I’d been in love with my best friend’s little sister and fucked her up pretty good when we were kids. In the past I avoided all the events that included the Waters family. On his next rotation he asks, “You think our parents will pull one of their last-minute getaways this year?” He’s six-two and lanky as hell, so he nearly kicks over my garbage can in the process. And that’s after I’ve folded it all, organized it, and checked it off on my list, then double check it one more time before I put it in my bag.īJ pushes the chair away from my desk and uses his foot to spin himself around. “I don’t want to forget anything.” I also have to pack everything in specific order. It just means I’ve yet to witness it over the past three years. Supine is basically BJ’s favorite position to be in when he isn’t on the ice or in a class, or studying, that latter of which I have never, ever seen him do.

He reclines as far as he can and the backrest groans in protest. “Dude, why does it take you so fucking long to pack?” BJ adjusts his manbun as he lopes across my room and throws himself into my computer chair. Any resemblance to actual events, locals, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.Įxcept as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author Names, characters, places, and incidents are all products of the author’s twisted imagination and are used fictitiously. A Very Sticky Little Lies Christmas is a work of fiction.

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