Snowed In & Snuggle Weather: A Best Friends to Lovers, Forced Proximity, Small-town Novella: Only One Cozy Bed, #4

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JOSIE

H ere's your demon spawn pizza. Josie shoved a plate piled with pineapple and bacon-topped pizza at her best friend, Max.

See if I share my breadsticks with you. He snatched the plate from her. Did you get the cheesy sauce?

Josie flopped down on Max’s well-worn, plaid oversized couch. Best friend movie night wouldn't be complete without some chemical-based cheese-like substance.

Josie settled back into the over-stuffed piece of heaven and took a bite of her cheesy, not-weird pizza. In front of her, an enormous cobblestone fireplace ran the length of two stories, and a fire crackled in the oversized hearth. Their movie marathon had become a weekly tradition for the last six months, and the cozy living room in Max’s log cabin was half the appeal of Friday movie night.

Snow fell outside, creating small drifts on the windowpane. She thought for the thousandth time how happy she was to have him back in their hometown. They'd been best friends since that fateful day in fourth grade, and Max had only recently returned to Benning Falls, Vermont, after breaking off his engagement.

Max flopped down next to her. Ready for the three best movies you'll ever see? He smiled with eager excitement, looking like one of those cartoon princes. She could even imagine a sparkly gleam on his teeth.

Josie sighed as she bit into her slice of pizza, trying to will away her attraction to him.

He was her best friend and he knew her better than anybody.

There was no way they could ever date.

She wasn't willing to risk her friendship with the person she loved most in the world by bringing sex into the equation. Plus, his six foot two, broad-shouldered frame with naturally tan skin and a Hemsworth-like jawline meant that Max had his pick of the litter when it came to girls. Josie could amp herself up to cute if given the right amount of time, but she looked nothing like any of Max's stick-thin ex-girlfriends.

She pushed her thoughts away and answered with a mouth full of pizza (so charming). "You can’t top last week. Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan is the definitive story by which all other stories are measured. Josie pointed at the shirt she wore with the franchise's famous logo. What are we watching?"

Since this week is finally my turn after you hogged all of January, we’re watching my favorite romantic comedies.

Josie rolled her eyes even as she smiled at his mushy romantic heart. Love is an illusion.

What? Max jerked his head back in shock. You've had a million boyfriends. You’ve never been in love with any of them?

The pizza scratched Josie's throat as she swallowed it.

Nope, not the time. Can't talk about this now. Panic rose in her but she tamped it down with a mental boot stomp.

She could never, ever admit two very secret things to her best friend.

One: She’d never been in love with any of her boyfriends. She’d had short flings with the bottom dwellers she tended to date, but never felt anything resembling love.

Two: She'd actually been in love with Max, the all-star baseball-playing, trust fund parent-having, gorgeous heir to the maple syrup dynasty sitting in front of her.

"I thought I was in love. But love is just a fairy tale or actually, she paused, probably a ghost story. C’mon, hit play, you sappy man. Get it? Sappy?" she said, nudging his shoulder at her pun-tastic wordplay about maple syrup.

He groaned as he smiled at her and nudged her back. You’re hilarious, Thornfield.

Max started the first movie and craned his head to look out the window. Do you need to stay here tonight? he asked. It's coming down in sheets right now.

It was February in Vermont, and Josie was only too familiar with the regular onslaught of snow. The flakes outside looked like they were being dumped from a bucket somewhere above the roofline as thousands of chunky flakes flew down to the ground.

I have a four-wheel drive, and I've been in Vermont longer than you have. She stuck her tongue out, therefore definitively proving her point.

Plus, your sleepy morning PJ look melts my heart into a pool of butter, and I can’t risk falling any farther in love with you.

You can’t keep holding it against me that I lived out of state for six years. Max had lived in Manhattan after college, working as a business consultant.

I’ll be fine. How much snow could we possibly get? Now shush. You’re interrupting my ogling. She pointed to a smoldering leading man onscreen.

She grabbed a fuzzy, thick blanket from the couch and spread it over their legs without thinking.

A few hours later, snuggled into the couch, Josie’s eyes felt like they were being held down with fifty pound weights.

Max got up to grab another drink, and Josie let herself appreciate the view as he walked away. She let out a loud yawn.

Early mornings catching up with you?

It's not easy getting up at the buttcrack of pitch black every morning, Josie moaned from the couch.

You think I sleep in? Tapping an acre of maple trees waits for no man. He threw her a shrug. Plus, second graders can't be that hard to wrangle, right? He smiled at her, knowing exactly what her answer would be.

Imagine wrangling thirty pure, sweet golden retriever puppies smart enough to get into serious trouble. She stole one of his breadsticks and dipped it in what was left of the nacho cheese. They are adorable and amazing and perfect but exhausting. We might have to save the rest of our movie night.

We were just getting to the good one. He settled back down on the couch beside her.

She noticed how his thigh brushed up against hers and desperately wanted it to mean something, but it was probably just the romcom messing with her head.

Subjecting me to a 1950s classic romcom right now would be like giving me seven quaaludes. I’d fall into a coma that would make Sleeping Beauty weep from jealousy. Josie rubbed her hands over her face to wake the sleep from her eyes.

Ugh, you're the worst, Max said, snuggling next to her.

She looked at his long legs splayed out in front of him and wished she could rest her head on his lap. He wore old cozy sweatpants and a faded, torn sweatshirt from college. She thought of the broad chest underneath and dreamed about nuzzling her head on his shoulder, but she didn't want to make it weird. Plus, he smelled so fucking good—that indescribable boy smell that tugged at something primal in her—and she didn’t trust herself not to do something stupid.

She sighed and tried to get her head back in the game.

He's your best friend. He doesn't want to make out with you. He smells like pine-soaked sexiness and emotional safety but he is your friend.

I should go,'' she said, before it gets any worse."

Did she mean the weather or her all-consuming crush on him?

If you feel even a little sleepy on your ten-minute drive home, give me a call. He looked up at her with concern as she levered herself out of the cushy, warm couch of her dreams.

She stretched, feeling several bones creak and wished she was already back on the couch, snuggled under the covers next to him. She let out a shudder as she put on her shoes.

He stood up and stretched, giving her a tantalizing glimpse of his lower abs for a brief second and the deep V that was cut into each hip. Her brain almost blue-screened from the view.

You sure you don't want to stay? He sent her a sleepy half-smile.

Max had moved back into his childhood home, an enormous two-story log cabin, last year when he took over his family’s maple syrup business. The house had an enormous vaulted ceiling, and original local logs lined the walls. The giant fireplace created a warm, cozy focal point, and the kitchen was a luxury masterpiece.

Every nerve ending in her body screamed, Yes, I would like to stay and snuggle in your bed and smell all of your smells and eat your fresh maple syrup for breakfast, and never leave because this place is fucking amazing.

But instead, like a dummy, Josie sighed in