RULES OF THE FRIEND-ZONE

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KAT BAXTER

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Rules of the Friend-Zone
Kat Baxter
Copyright 2021 by Kat Baxter

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the
author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any
resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, or by any electronic or
mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval
system, without the express written permission of the author or publisher, except where permitted by
law.

Edited by: Emily Beierle-McKaskle

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With regard to digital publication, be advised that any alteration of font size or spacing by the reader
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 CONTENTS

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Epilogue
Thank you for reading!
Excerpt from Marry Christmas
About the author

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 CHAPTER 1

RULE #1: Do not have sexy dreams about your best friend.

Dylan

I rock my hips and slide deeper inside her wet heat Nothing has ever felt
more perfect.
“Goddamn, Piper,” I groan. I piston in and out of her and her long legs
wrap around my waist.
I always knew it would be like this with us. Explosive and passionate
and just fucking good. I slam into her and the headboard pounds against the
wall.
Pound, pound, pound.
“Dylan!” she yells.
“Tell me you love me,” I whisper.
“I love you,” she says.
I shift my position so I’m up on my knees while I continue to fuck her. I
grip her hips and angle her body just right so I’m hitting her g-spot. Her
spectacular tits bounce with every one of my thrusts. The headboard keeps
it’s rhythmic banging.
Pound, pound, pound.
I bring my thumb to her clit and rub a tight circle around it.
 Her warm brown eyes widen, and then she comes, the walls of her
pussy squeezing my dick and pushing me into my own climax. I come
roaring her name.

When I wake up, I realize I’ve just had my first wet dream since I was a
teenager. My sheets are a mess. I’m a mess. Awesome.
Then I hear the pounding and realize it’s my door. I glance at my bed
and realize I have no headboard. Stupid dream.
Shit, she’s here already. I grab my phone and see I’ve missed a slew of
texts from her, the last of which is a gif of a frozen statue and her words
“I’m dying.”
I laugh. She’s so dramatic.
I grab a pair of sweats and race to the bathroom where I give myself a
quick wipe down get all the semen off my stomach.
Pound, pound, pound.
“I’m coming!” I yell. Heh…yeah, I did that already. I pull on the sweat
pants as I make my way to my front door.
I toss it open and Piper glares at me. “Took you long enough.”
“I should just give you a key,” I murmur. Not that I want her letting
herself in while I’m fucking her in my dreams, because that would be all
kinds of awkward.
She steps to the side of me and into my living room. “I was freezing my
ass off out there.”
I let my eyes trail the length of her tall, voluptuous body. She’s wearing
her usual, knee-length wool skirt, sweater and knee socks. This pair is black
with white deathly hallow symbols all over them. They hit right above her
curvy calves. Who would have thought the back side of a woman’s knee
would be so sexy? God save me from those fucking knee socks.
I barely manage to adjust my semi-hard cock when she turns around to
face me. Her brown eyes stare at me behind her purple cat-eye glasses. I
catch her gaze dropping and admiring my naked torso before she catches
herself and quickly looks at my face.
“What were you doing anyways that it took you that long to get to the
door? It’s stupid cold outside.”
I was doing you, I’m tempted to say.
 But I don’t say it, because Piper is my best friend. She’s been my best
friend ever since the university assigned her as my tutor my junior year.
And I’m pretty sure having hot sex dreams about your best friend is the
shortest path to not having a best friend. So I keep my mouth shut.
Instead, I head into the kitchen to get some coffee going and to avoid
looking at her face. “I was sleeping.”
She swats my shoulder. “Why were you sleeping when you knew I was
on my way over?”
“Because traveling over the holiday sucks and my flight didn’t in until
three in the morning.”
We spent Christmas with our families. Me at my brother’s in Chicago,
Piper in Corpus Christi with her mom, dad, half-brother Brooks, and
Brooks’s grandmother. Ever since I graduated from the college we both
went to, Piper and I have had our own separate holiday celebration at my
house after we visit our families.
Even though I knew she was on her way from Corpus, I wasn’t sure
what time she’d be here.
“And you know you would be warmer if you wore real pants instead of
a skirt and tall socks,” I tell her now.
She climbs up onto one of my barstools. “Meh, I wore jeans at Gran’s
house.” Then she smiles broadly and I rub the spot over my heart because it
feels twitchy. “Did I tell you that Brooks got married?”
“Your brother, Brooks? Uh, no, you didn’t mention that.”
“Huh, anyways, he did and she was at Christmas. And she’s his
childhood best friend and they’re so adorable together, it’s crazy.”
I lean against the counter while I wait for the coffee to brew. Her gaze is
soft and dreamy in a way that doesn’t help my chubby problem, so I change
the topic. “Did you see the forecast?”
She makes a funny face. “Yeah. I can’t tell if the meteorologists are
messing with us or doing drugs. Snow, for an entire week? In Austin?
That’s insane.”
I lift a shoulder. “Possibly. But climate change is making all kinds of
weird shit happen. I read the other day that Greenland lost enough water in
a single day to cover the state of Florida in a couple inches of water.”
“That’s insane and terrible.”
I grab the mugs from my cabinet, and pour us each a cup; mine black
with just a scoop of sugar, hers with copious amounts of sugar and cream. I
set hers on the counter between us and slide it to her.
She looks up at me and smiles. “Thank you.” Then her face falls and
sadness fills her eyes.
I walk around the kitchen bar and wrap myself around her in a hug. The
first thing I notice is her scent. She always smells like chai tea; spicy with
cloves and cinnamon.
“Why are you sad, Socks?” I ask her while ignoring the second thing I
notice. How fucking good she feels in my arms. We’ve always been
physically affectionate, but lately when we hug, I feel things that are one
hundred percent not platonic.
“Because these are our last few days living in the same city.”
Even though I graduated from the University of Texas a couple of years
before her, I got a job here in Austin. Not long after that, I inherited my
grandfather’s house in central Austin, which even kept me pretty close to
campus. But in December, she graduated. While she’s considering which
graduate program she wants to go to for robotics—did I mention that my
girl is crazy smart?—she’ll move to Corpus to work for her brother’s green-
energy company. Corpus is only three hours away, but it’s a lot farther than
the twenty minutes apart we’ve been for the past few years.
I pull back, but keep my hands on her arms. Her expressive brown eyes
are swimming in unshed tears.
“Everything is going to change. I hate change,” she says.
“You thought everything was going to be different when I graduated,
but it didn’t. We still do our take-out Tuesdays while watching Storm
Chasers Diaries. Our friendship is important to both of us, we will make
sure to stay close. I told you, we can coordinate our dinner and watch our
show together even from different cities.”
She blows out a breath, which drops my gaze to her lips. Those perfect
lips that are always slightly uptick in a tiny grin. Some people have resting
bitch face, not my Piper, she has resting sweet face.
“I know you say that, but …” she rubs her cheek against my chest, like
she’s trying to burrow deeper. “Promise you’ll send me every drawing you
do? Not just the ones you post on Insta.”
“Promise,” I say, even though I don’t actually show her every drawing I
do now. Comic book illustration is a hobby I’ve had for years, one I never
shared with anyone until Piper discovered it by accident. She’s my biggest
fan, and encouraged me to start a dedicated Instagram account. It’ll never
be a living, but it’s fun.
And the only drawings I don’t show her are the ones I do of her. Those,
she has no idea exist. I’m pretty sure one look and she’d know that my
feelings for her go a bit beyond platonic. She knows me well enough I’m
afraid she’ll sense I’m prevaricating.
So I pull my phone out of my pocket and hand it to her. “Why don’t you
order some groceries or food or whatever to be delivered. Even if we don’t
get snow, it’s gonna be cold out there and I don’t want to go anywhere. I’m
going to go take a shower.” I lean forward and plant a kiss on her forehead,
then turn and walk away before I can kiss her anywhere else.

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 CHAPTER 2

RULE #2: No kissing. No thinking about kissing. No looking at lips. And

definitely no imagining those lips doing other things.

Piper

I force myself to stay in the exact position I’m in so that I don’t turn and
watch Dylan walk away. Grey sweatpants? Seriously, that should be against
the rules! I mean his ass looks amazing in everything, but wearing
sweatpants is just not playing fair. I swear when he first opened the door
that I could see all of the details of his frank and beans. Like, I now know
that he’s circumcised.
I squeeze my eyes shut. What is wrong with me? He is my best friend.
I’m not supposed to be having sexy-time thoughts about him!
But also, what is wrong with him? Since when does he kiss my head?
Since when does he kiss any part of me? I did not need to know how soft
his lips are. Because knowing that just makes me imagine what they’d feel
like on my cheek or my neck. Or other, more dangerous areas.
I’ve imagined kissing Dylan a million times over the last several years.
You can’t have a best friend who looks like him and not fantasize about
that. But up until a few moments ago, I could have lied to myself about the
softness of his mouth. I could have decided they were rough and chapped
and dry and gross.
 Obviously, I wouldn’t have believed any of that, but it’s not even an
option now!
I pick up his phone and start ordering our favorites because I already
know, without looking, that he has coffee, yogurt and bananas in his
kitchen. Other than that, his kitchen will be bare. He is the kind of guy who
keeps only the necessities on hand and everything else he eats out or orders
in. I, on the other hand, am the kind of girl who likes to keep my snacking
and eating options open. As evidenced by my ass … which I like to think of
as “fluffy.”
Dylan and I have been friends too long for me to feel awkward about
the fact that he’s a lean, sculpted specimen of human perfection and I’m …
not. I think he secretly loves having snack foods around but is just too
focused on other things to remember to buy them.
Once I’ve got all of that taken care of, I dig my kindle out of my purse
and then snuggle up on his sofa to read.
A few minutes later he comes back into this living room. He looks no
less attractive than he did when he left, but at least he’s wearing a shirt this
time so I don’t have to pretend I’m not staring at his six-pack abs and
treasure trail and man freckles.
I’m tempted to ask him about the forehead kiss, but I keep my mouth
closed because mentioning it will tell him that I noticed. And I can totally
be cool with him kissing my forehead. Maybe I’ll kiss his forehead, too.
Not now though because that would be weird.
He flops onto the couch next to me and, God, he smells good. His
brown hair is wet and it makes it harder to see the auburn shot through his
strands.
“What are you reading?” he asks.
I glance over at him and he’s smiling like a fool at me.
“What?” I ask.
“I just barely glanced at your screen and already saw the words “cock”
and “clit.” So you must be reading something good.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t be a child.”
He just smirks and grabs the remote off the coffee table.
I stare at my e-reader, not actually seeing the words, and instead think
back to the moment I first met him. I’d been a freshman at the University of
Texas and he’d been a junior on a football scholarship in desperate need of
tutoring. I’d walked into the library expecting to find a dumb jock and
instead had met the unique gaze of smart, sensitive and beautiful man. I’d
been smitten from the beginning.
He’d had a girlfriend back then, a twig-thin cheerleader type with big
hair and big boobs—Kimber. Not Kimberly. She was too damn cute for that
extra syllable.
Despite that early crush of mine, I outlasted Kimber (as well as a few
others), and I learned that I made a great best friend to Dylan Waite, but I’d
never be anything more.
Two weeks after that we’d had our first argument. About his eye color,
of all things. He’d said they were blue, plain and simple. But he was wrong.
His eyes were a hypnotic blend of blue and green with gold flecks tossed in.
They were the color of the Caribbean Sea at sunset with the moon glinting
off the aqua depths.
Thankfully the doorbell rings which pulls me out of my mental
cataloguing of his features. When I get like this is the only time I know that
moving to a different city will be a good thing. I’m too hung up on Dylan
and my silly fantasies of what if. I need to get away from him for a while
and remember what it’s like to be with a man in more ways than just
friendship.
Dylan finishes carrying in all the snow-storm essentials I ordered that
were dropped off on his front porch. After depositing things in his kitchen,
he heads back to the front door instead of back to the couch.
“Socks, come here,” he calls from the front door.
I set down my reader and walk over to him. He’s got the door still open
and the frigid air from outside swirls around my legs as I get closer. My
nipples tighten and I shiver.
“Wow, it’s cold.”
“Yeah, but look.” He points out and past the overhang of his nineteen-
twenty’s bungalow, I see it. Snow.
Huge flakes of snow, the kind I’ve rarely seen outside a movie.
Now, you have to understand that here in central Texas, we get some
cold weather. But we get less than two full month’s worth of winter. So
when we do have the occasional snow, it’s either itty-bitty flurries that
kinda blow around outside or it’s wet-slushy ice that’s gross and messy. But
this, right now, is big-fat quarter-sized snowflakes. Like real, honest-to-
goodness, snow.
“Oh my gosh,” I say. “It’s so pretty.”
 “I’m glad you got the food ordered. The temperatures are going to keep
dropping and the roads are going to be undriveable soon.”
“You know all the people up north are going to be laughing at us for
staying in with just this amount of snow.” I shiver again and he pulls me to
his side, wrapping one of his thickly, corded with muscles, arms around my
shoulders.
“It’s just because they have salt trucks and de-icing stuff. We don’t have
any of that. Once this snow settles on the road and melts from the heat of
the asphalt and then re-freezes because it’s cold as balls outside, it’s going
to become sheets of ice.”
I turn and smile at him. “Let’s make hot chocolate and popcorn.”
“And watch the weather?” He waggles his eyebrows at me.
“We are dorks, you know that, don’t you?”
He lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “Why? Because we watch the Weather
Channel for fun? So what. Jim Cantore is cool. I’m man enough to admit
that.”
And this, ladies and gentleman, is why Dylan is my best friend. Yes,
he’s total man-candy, but beneath all the smoldering hotness beats the heart
of nerd. And I’m all in for that.
We shut his front door and move back into the house. I head into the
kitchen to get the hot chocolate going and he turns on the television.
An hour later we’ve plowed through two bowls of popcorn and nearly a
fourth of a bag of tiny marshmallows. Okay, that last thing is my fault
because I like my hot chocolate with way too many marshmallows. My love
of all things sugar is the reason my ass is the size that it is. And when I
think about not having dessert in my life, I become remarkably okay with
the fact that I’ve got junk in my trunk.
We’re still geeking out about being in the center of “breaking weather
news,” when both of our phones buzz at the same time.
“They’re going to have to start rolling brown-outs,” Dylan says. “The
grid won’t be able to withstand the heavy usage.”
“Your house is cozy so we should be okay, right?” His house is tiny and
adorable.
“I’m sure we will be fine.”

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 CHAPTER 3

RULE #3: If your best friend is wearing clothing that may incite
accidentally lusting, never ever look at exposed skin. And definitely don’t
touch it.

Dylan

Famous last fucking words. Because you know what? We’re not fine. It’s
cold in my house.
Let’s face it, when you inherit your grandparent’s old house in your
early twenty’s, you don’t have the kind of funds needed to restore it. So
while things are mostly in good shape, the windows are old and evidently
the insulation is crap. All things you don’t know until you’re in the middle
of a freak snow storm and you have to lower your heat setting to hopefully
prevent losing power all together.
I think Piper’s teeth are chattering and her lips look a little blue.
“We should just go to bed. At least we’ll be warmer under blankets,” I
say.
“Good idea.” She jumps up from the couch and makes a bee-line to the
guest room where she’s stored her stuff.
Meanwhile I make sure everything is locked up, grab some flashlights
just in case we do lose power then I head into my bedroom. I’ve just come
out of the bathroom when Piper walks in.
 She’s wearing tiny sleep shorts with dancing unicorns in tu-tu’s on them
and a tank top. Her socks are still there and I’m trying really hard not to
stare at chest because I can see how cold she is. Her nipples are practically
cutting holes through the fabric.
“Do you need something?” I ask. I quickly walk past her and climb into
the bed hoping she can’t see that I’ve got the beginnings of a hard-on
tenting my black boxer briefs.
“Yes, I do need something.” She pulls the covers back and climbs into
my bed. Then she scurries across my California King until she’s pressed to
my side. “Body heat. I will die if I have to sleep in that cold room alone.”
Her hand lands on my stomach and I tense. “Christ, your hands are
freezing.”
“I told you.” She looks up at me with those soulful brown eyes. “Is it
okay if I’m in here? It’s not weird, right?”
I wrap my arm around her and pull her tighter to me. “No, Socks, it’s
not weird.” On the contrary, it feels fucking perfect for her to be snuggled
up next to me. And I’m thankful that I took the time earlier today to change
my sheets so I don’t have to explain why I had come all over them.
“Can you believe how much snow is out there?” she asks, settling in
next to me, her voice thick with awe.
“I really can’t. I’ve lived in Austin my entire life and I’ve never seen it
like this. When my parents moved to Chicago I teased them about the
weather and I’m pretty sure it’s currently colder here than it was when I was
a few days ago. And there’s more on the forecast for the next few days.”
She giggles and the little puffs of warm breath that come out fan across
my chest and I’m nearly fully hard at this point.
“What?” I ask.
“Did you hear the weather people actually use the word ‘blizzard?’”
I laugh with her.
She abruptly rolls away, then slips out of the bed.
I lean up on my elbows. “What are you doing?”
“You’re so warm, I don’t need my socks.” She puts one foot on the bed,
then slowly rolls down the sock. It’s absurdly sexy and I know I’m just
staring at her. She switches feet and does the same with the other leg. How
is she this sexy without having a clue about it?
“Why are you wearing such tiny pajamas?” I ask. I reach down and
adjust my dick because he’s trying to crawl out the front slit of my boxers.
 Her brows raise. “What do you mean?” She looks down at herself.
“This is what I always sleep in.”
“Don’t you have any footed pajamas or thermal long johns or
something?” Anything that would cover more of her tempting body.
She rolls her eyes. “No, do you?”
“Well, no.”
“Exactly, because we live in Texas.” She crawls back into the bed, but
turns away from me this time. It takes her a few times to get her pillow
fluffed just right, but then she settles. “Come spoon me, I’m cold.”
I roll closer to her, but resist pulling her flush to my body. There will be
no hiding my hard-on then. I put my hand on her waist.
“Dylan, that is not spooning. Come on, warm me up.” She wiggles her
body and I suppress a groan.
I just barely manage to buck backwards when her plump ass comes too
close to my groin. Shit.
“Why won’t you hug me? Come on, put that big body of yours to use.
Warm me up.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. It’s like she’s trying to kill me. Or at least
torture me.
She rolls onto her back and looks over at me. “That’s it, I’m just going
to climb on top of you and warm up that way.”
“Please don’t do that.”
“You don’t have to be an ass, Dylan. I know I’m not dainty, but it’s not
like I was going to squash you.”
I see the hurt flash into her eyes and it guts me. She moves to turn back
to her side, but I stop her.
“You want to know why I’m not spooning you?” I roll my body on top
of her and let my pelvis fall into the cradle between her open thighs.
Her eyes widen.
I rock my dick against her. “That’s why.”
Her lips part. “You’re hard.”
“No shit.”
She licks her lips.
Fuck, I want to kiss her.
Neither of us move. My erection is pressed against the heat of her pussy.
The only thing separating us are thin scraps of cotton. We stare at each other
and I can see her chest moving more rapidly with her increased breathing.
I’m just about to roll off of her before I do something I might regret when
her body shifts beneath mine.
“Why are you hard?” she asks, her voice sounds breathy and sexy.
“Because you came into my room practically naked wearing those tiny
pajamas and then you rubbed all over me. Then you got out of bed with
those fucking knee socks. You have no idea what they do to me.”
She swallows visibly. Her legs open wider and then they raise, wrapping
around my waist.
I swallow hard. “What are you doing, Socks?”
Her eyes close and she angles her body up to mine, rubbing herself on
my cock.
“You feel so good,” she breathes.
Goddamn it. I should roll off of her and tell her to go to sleep. Hell, I
should climb out of this bed and … I don’t know, go out into the snow or
something to clear my head. But I don’t. Instead, I rock against her pussy,
knowing that my dick is sliding against her clit.
She arches, exposing her creamy neck and I can’t fucking help myself, I
lean down and kiss the tempting skin.
“Make me come, Dylan. Please. It’s been so long.”
She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I lean up. “Take off your shorts,” I
tell her.
Her hands move to her waistband and she shimmies out of her shorts
and panties. When she moves her legs up to pull her clothing off, I’m hit
with the musky scent of her arousal. Fuck me. It’ll be a miracle if I can
withstand burying my face between her thick thighs.
I pull down my boxers and her eyes widen. “Don’t panic, Socks, I’m not
going to fuck you. Unless you ask me to.” I smile at her, then lower myself
back to her body. The first contact of her wet heat makes my eyes roll back.
I position myself so that I’m too high to enter her, but in just the right spot
to grind against her clit.
Her legs wrap around me again and she puts her arms around my neck.
“Kiss me,” she whispers.
I slant my lips across hers and give no warning before I plunge my
tongue into her mouth. The slide of our tongues against each other mimics
the slide of my dick against her wet pussy. Fuck me, but I want to be inside
her.
 Kissing Piper is amazing. But I want more. So much more. I want to
strip off her silly tank top and expose her tits. I want to suck on her nipples
until she cries out my name. I can’t remove her shirt in our current position
so I do the next best thing. I break our kiss and tug on the top until I can get
the fabric beneath the heavy weight of her breasts.
“You’re fucking perfect,” I tell her before I suck the hardened tip into
my mouth. I swirl my tongue around the peak.
“Oh, oh, oh wow.” Her body stills briefly beneath mine, then she
shatters in a climax. I lean up to watch her face, keeping my movements
steady until she’s ridden out the orgasm.
Her eyes open and she smiles at me. Her hands rub down my back until
she reaches my ass and she squeezes, cupping me tighter to her.
“Dylan, it might not be the wisest choice, but I don’t care. Please fuck
me.”
I search her face. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
I reach over her body to the nightstand to grab a condom.
She shakes her head. “You don’t need that. I’m clean and I’m on the
pill.”
“I’m clean, too,” I murmur. I’m disappointed with her admission. Not
that she’s clean, but that she’s on birth control. Getting her pregnant
wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.
I’m momentarily struck with the direction of my thoughts. If I knock
her up she won’t be able to move away from me. She’d be tied to me
forever. Since when do I think like a goddamn caveman? Fuck, she’s
completely undoing me.
“Are you sure?” I ask again. “I don’t want you to hate me in the
morning.”
“You’re my best friend, Dylan, I could never hate you.”

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 CHAPTER 4

RULE #4: Don’t let coming come between you.

Piper

I can’t believe I’ve just asked my best friend to fuck me, but I don’t have
time to be embarrassed or shocked by my behavior. His admission that I
turned him on and then the physical proof of his erection pressed against
my pussy short-circuited my brain.
Lizard brain. Sex brain. Id. Whatever you want to call it. I’m one
hundred percent in that mind frame.
Dylan leans up and grips his cock. I will panic later when I fully
comprehend the fact that I’m seeing my best friend’s very hard, very long
and thick cock. Right now though, watching him lubricate himself on my
wet arousal is the hottest, sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
He notches himself at my entrance then presses forward. It’s been a long
damn time since I’ve been with a man. And even then it was just that one
time. It had been short and terrible.
“Fuck, Piper, you’re so tight.” He freezes his forward motion and looks
down at me. “You’re not a virgin, are you?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s just been a really long time. I’m okay, you’re
not hurting me.” At least not in a bad way. He’s stretching me and it’s like
this perfect pleasure-pain.
 He nods. “I’m just going to push all the way in.”
“Yes, do that.” I grip his shoulders as he thrusts into me.
His body lowers and he kisses me. He doesn’t move inside me yet. But
his kiss leaves me breathless. I’ve been kissed before, but nothing has ever
felt like this. Every slide of his tongue is like a pulse to my clit. I’m so
turned on, it’s ridiculous.
It’s probably why his big, fat cock doesn’t hurt. Because I’m so damn
wet, I’m like a slip-n-slide down there. I chuckle and he breaks the kiss and
looks down at me.
“What’s so funny?”
“I was thinking about how wet you make me.”
His brows raise. “And that’s funny?”
“Thinking of myself as a backyard water slide is.”
He pulls out almost completely out of my body then. “It feels amazing
how wet you are.” He thrusts back into me.
“Oh wow,” I say because I am super eloquent and poised. Y’all should
be jealous.
“You’re squeezing my dick so good, Socks. Goddamn it, I’m not going
to last.”
“It’s okay. I already came.”
“Fuck that.” He shifts our bodies slightly, pulling one of my legs up and
it puts him at a new angle. With every push forward, the head of his dick
bumps my g-spot.
Pleasure radiates through my body and I swear if he makes me come
like this, I’m going to break apart. Maybe I won’t have to survive the death-
inducing orgasm. Maybe he’ll come first and I’ll live to fuck him again.
What the hell am I even saying?
He bends forward and licks my nipple, then sucks it into his mouth. I
know I’m probably scratching his back all up to hell, but the whole g-spot,
nipple, clit combo is breaking me.
“That’s it, Piper,” he croons. “This pussy was made for me. I can feel
you’re close. You’re squeezing my dick so good. Fuck, I need you to
come.”
Again he sucks my nipple into my mouth and that shatters me. I lean my
head back against the pillow and scream his name. The climax is intense
and full-bodied and I think I might pass out. Maybe I am actually dying.
 But then he jerks inside me and calls out my name while he comes. His
gorgeous eyes look down into mine and we ride out the rest of our climax
locked like that. It’s intense and perfect and terrifying.
“That was incredible,” he says.
He leans down and kisses my cheeks, then my nose, then finally my
lips. It’s a sweet, tender kiss that brings tears to my eyes. He slowly pulls
out of my body, then leaves to go into the bathroom. I just lay there, staring
at the ceiling and wondering what the hell just happened.
Dylan steps back into the room completely naked and I can’t help buy
stare at his perfect body. It’s on my lips to ask him how I managed to turn
him on. I mean I’m like captain of the awkward team. I’m not thin or svelt.
I’ve got cellulite and I’m pretty sure my boobs are uneven.
He pulls the covers back and uses a warm, wet rag to wipe me between
the thighs. If he wasn’t so tender, it would be embarrassing. Instead it’s just
sweet and kinda perfect.
Once he’s rid himself of the rag, he crawls into bed behind me and this
time he pulls me flush to his body. His big spoon to my little spoon. I know
the panic will likely hit me at some point, but right now I’m so sated and
happy and tired that I just close my eyes and let sleep take me.

I wake to realize three things:

1. It’s crazy cold in the house
2. Dylan has some serious morning wood drilling into my ass.
3. HOLY FUCK I HAD SEX WITH MY BEST FRIEND!

Yep, panic has hit. I knew it would. Dylan makes a sexy sound in his throat
and presses his dick against me. I slide away and slip out of the bed then
scurry into the bathroom. I relieve myself then sneak back out to his room
where I steal a giant hoodie and sweatpants because I can actually see my
breath, it’s so cold.
I’m pulling on a pair of socks when his eyes open and find me across
the room.
I laugh awkwardly because yep, that’s what I do. “That was so crazy
last night, wasn’t it? I mean who knew cabin fever would hit that quickly.
Also, I don’t think the power is on because it’s really cold in the house. I
borrowed some of your clothes, I hope that’s okay. I just didn’t think I’d be
warm enough in my own stuff.” I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment. “I
wonder if it’s still snowing. I’ll go check.” Then I bolt out of the room
because I’m a coward.
But what if he regrets it? What if in the cold—cold, cold, very cold—
light of the day he realizes what we did and everything between us
changes? I mean we’ll go back to the way things were eventually. It’ll
probably help that I’m moving to Corpus to work for my brother, Brooks’s,
green-energy company.
I peer out the front window to find a winter wonderland. It’s
breathtaking and weird all at the same time. Normally this time of year we
have brown grass or depending on how cold it’s gotten and if we’ve gotten
rain sometimes green grass. Right now though, everything is covered in
inches of powdery white stuff.
Even as I stare at the pretty snow my mind wanders back to last night.
The way he touched me, the way he kissed me, the sounds he made while
he was moving inside me. I can’t pretend that this won’t break my heart. I
can’t pretend anymore that I’m not in love with Dylan. At least I’ll get to
have the memory of one amazing night in his arms. But part of me is afraid
that that will never be enough.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER 5

RULE #5: Know when it’s time to man up and tell her that you’re in love
with her.

Dylan

I’ve known Piper long enough to know she is completely freaking out. I
find her standing in front of the picture window that overlooks my small
front lawn. Her arms are wrapped around her middle and she’s wearing my
clothes and everything about that is perfect.
I move to stand next to her and stare at the snow. “That has got to be at
least a half a foot,” I say.
She nods without glancing at me.
“So are we going to talk about this?” I ask.
“I was kinda thinking we’d just deal with the awkwardness for a bit
more, then I’m about to move and at some point things will just smooth
over.” She turns to face me and gives me a half wince/half smile.
She’s fucking adorable.
“Is that what you want? To just pretend nothing happened between us?”
Her head falls back and she blows out a breath. “I don’t know, Dylan.
I’m terrified that we fucked everything up.” She looks back at my face,
searching me for something. “Last night was, God, it was just amazing. But
don’t you think something would have happened between us before if this
were a thing?” She motions her hand between our bodies.
I shake my head. “Not necessarily. Piper, people are not together until
they’re together.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It’s like going swimming. You’re not wet until you get in the pool.
Yesterday morning, we were just friends. Last night we got in the pool.”
Her face squishes in confusion. “I think you’re mixing your metaphors.”
“I probably am.”
“What are you saying, Dylan? That you want to be friends with
benefits?” She tosses her arms up and walks away from me, going into the
kitchen. There’s nothing to do in there since the power is out and we can’t
use the coffee pot.
“Want me to boil some water?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I need you to answer my question because I don’t
know what you’re saying. I’m about to move three hours away, so we have
an affair while I’m still here and then things cool off when I’m gone? Is that
what you want?”
I swallow and try not let my frustration show. She’s scared, I know she’s
scared, but dammit, she’s not hearing me. I walk to her and grip her biceps.
“No, that’s not what I want.”
Her eyes close and she nods. “Maybe I should just go.” She tries to pull
away.
“First of all, there’s nowhere for you to go. The roads are all closed and
there’s more snow coming in the next hour or so. You’re stuck with me.
Secondly, you interpreted what I said incorrectly.”
She glares at me. “Oh, did I? You can read my mind now?”
“Of course I can. You’re my best friend. I know you better than anyone.
I know your facial expressions, how you get those little lines between your
brows when you’re trying to figure something out. I know that you are
addicted to sugar and you compensate by eating salads every day for lunch.
I know that you have approximately three hundred and eighty pairs of knee
socks that drive me fucking insane. And I know that when I just told you I
didn’t want to have a friends-with-benefits affair with you that what you
heard was that I don’t want to be with you.”
“That is totally what you said!” she yells.
 “No, what I said is that I don’t want to have an affair with you and then
let things cool off.”
“This is why I don’t date. Men are confusing!”
“Then let me make things completely clear for you. I am in love with
you, Piper. I don’t want to have an affair with you because an affair has an
expiration date. I want to have you forever.” I cup her cheeks, then slide my
hands up into her hair, making sure she’s looking in my eyes, when I say, “I
want to be your forever.”
Her mouth opens, then closes. She frowns at me and shakes her head, so
that my hands fall free from her hair. “You just decided this today. I let you
in my pants and now you’re in love with me? Come on, Dylan, I’m not an
idiot. Love doesn’t work that way.”
“It didn’t happen last night. It’s been happening since the day we met.”
She pushes me back so I have to drop my hands from her arms. “Oh
really, while you were dating Kimber?” She practically spits out my ex’s
name. “You were falling in love with me?”
“Actually, yes. It’s part of the reason I broke up with her.”
Her arms go over her chest. “Sure. That makes total sense. You broke up
with the perfect cheerleader because you started falling for your younger
nerdy, programming tutor?”
I stare into her eyes and nod. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. And there
was nothing perfect about Kimber. She was self-centered and immature and
selfish.”
Piper shakes her head, refusing to believe me.
I hold my hand out to her. “Come with me, Socks, I want to show you
something.”
She looks down at my hand and then slowly sets her palm in mine. I
link our fingers and lead her back to my bedroom. When we reach the
doorway, she pauses.
“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” she says, shaking her head.
“Piper, look at me.” I tilt her chin up so I can see her brown eyes. “Trust
me.”
She takes a shaky breath, and then nods. So I lead her the rest of the
way into my room.
I pat the bed. “Hop up, and take a seat.” Then I drop to my knees and
pull out the box that hides underneath my bedframe.
“What are you doing?”
 “I want to show you something.” I finally pull out the sketch books, the
ones even she hasn’t seen, then I get up on the bed with her. I put the first
one in her lap. There are a few loose sheets at the front. I open the book.
“These first ones are from when we first met. You know when you had to
tutor my dumb ass. It didn’t take me long to figure out you’d be a favorite
subject so I gave you your own sketch book.”
She flips through the drawings, one page at a time. The transition of my
drawing skills is subtle, but one thing that remains the same in all my
illustrations of Piper: she’s always a perfect blend of super hero and pin-up
girl. About halfway through the book she looks up at me, tears spill from
her beautiful eyes.
“Is this how you see me?”
I cup her face. “Yeah, Socks, that’s how I see you. You’re fierce and
strong and beautiful.” I pick up the second book and flip through it quickly
until I find the one I’m looking for and hand it to her. “This is the day I
knew I was falling in love with you.”

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 CHAPTER 6

RULE #6: Acknowledge that friends make the very best lovers.

Piper

My eyes are blurry with tears which is is messing up my glasses. I take

them off and Dylan grabs them, cleaning them on his t-shirt before handing
them back. He thumbs away my tears and I stare at the page in front of me.
The drawing is slightly different than his current ones, he’s improved
with this technique. But his style is pretty well the same. Hand drawn,
hand-colored old school comic book style, only better, bolder and with
crisper details.
It’s me, as all the other ones he’s shown me have been. Tall and thick,
he doesn’t hide my hips or thighs or my big boobs. Or my glasses. These
are still cat-eye ones, but they’re red, the color I wore two years ago. In the
picture I’m wearing a vintage Atari shirt with a plaid skirt and black knee-
high socks with kitten ears at the knees and white eyes and whiskers drawn
on. My expression is full of sass and I’m smirking.
It’s definitely me, but a me I’ve never seen before. But he says this is
how he sees me.
Fierce, he said. Strong and beautiful.
I look up into his stupid handsome face. “Why didn’t you ever say
anything?”
 He lifts a shoulder. “I was afraid, I guess. Didn’t want to rock our boat,
didn’t want to scare you away. And sure as fuck didn’t want to hear you say
you didn’t feel the same.”
I swallow hard. “You love me?”
“Yeah, Socks, I love you.” His grin is the same cocky smile that I fell in
love with. And there’s blatant affection in his gaze.
“Well, this sucks,” I say.
He jerks back like I struck him.
“You know how people have been saying for years that we’re going to
end up together? Now we’re never going to hear the end of it.”
He searches my face, then cups my cheeks and leans in for a kiss.
Before our lips touch, I ask, “What do we do about me moving?”
“I’ll come with you.”
“But what about your house? You can’t sell it. This is such a great
historic neighborhood.”
“So I’ll rent it or find someone to renovate it for me.”
I can feel his warm breath on my face and I shiver in response. “What
will you do about your job?”
“Piper?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up.” Then he kisses me. His lips are tender at first, and then his
tongue slides against the seam of my mouth. I open for me. Our tongues
touch and my entire body lights up with desire. One thing is for certain, our
chemistry is undeniable. That combined with our genuine friendship and
history is the perfect combination for a happily ever after.

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 EPILOGUE

DYLAN

Three months later…

I’ve got everything set up perfectly waiting for Piper when she gets home.
Right after we made things official to our friends and family—and she was
totally right, we got a chorus of, “I knew it!” when we came clean.
Anyways, after came out as a couple, she got a job offer from one of the
most prestigious robotics companies in the world. Which also happens to
have a satellite office here in Austin. So now she’s works for RoboATX and
lives with me and life is fucking swell.
I suspect she’s known that today is coming for a while now, but I still
want it to be a surprise. So I didn’t propose on New Year’s Eve. Then again,
didn’t propose on Valentine’s Day. I even skipped her birthday at the end of
February. Instead, I wanted it to just be a random day.
That way we can make our own holiday.
I’m not even nervous. There’s nothing about spending the rest of my life
with Piper that gives me anxiety. She’s my one. I’ve known it for years. I
think she has too. We were both too fucking scared to ruin things to take the
leap. But I have no fear now.
I hear the key in the front door and take my place on the sofa to scroll
through my phone. Or at least appear to be doing that.
 “Hey, Socks, how was your day?” I call out.
She comes stomping into the living room. Fuck me, she looks delicious.
Her black pleated skirt is paired with a vintage Jetson’s t-shirt and her knee-
high socks have little tiny robots on them. She stops short and narrows her
eyes at me.
“What are you up to?”
I stand and move to her, wrapping my arms around her. “What is that
supposed to mean?”
“Why are you home early? You’re not even wearing shoes.”
I glance down at my bare feet. Shit. “I worked from home today.”
Which is not completely untrue.
“I’m suspicious of you,” she says. But she’s smiling at me.
“Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?”
“You are definitely up to something.” She kisses me and nearly makes
me forget what I’m supposed to be doing.
“I did get you a little present. It’s on your pillow.”
She squeals and takes off running in the direction of our bedroom. I take
a seat back on the couch so I don’t get in her way.
“These are so cute.” She comes out holding the socks with the tiny
happy coffee mugs on them. Then she feels the paper I slipped into the toe
of one of them and pulls it out giving me the stink eye.
“Each pair holds a clue, go to the spot where you’d find object
pictured,” she reads aloud. Then she cocks her hip out. “Did you make me a
scavenger hunt?”
“Maybe.”
She runs off to the kitchen and I can hear her digging in the cabinet with
the coffee mugs. She laughs, then comes back out holding the next pair.
These are lime green with footballs on them.
“You want me to wear these so you can relive your football glory days,
don’t you?” she asks.
I smile at her. “That might have crossed my mind.”
She stares at the socks thinking, then goes to the entertainment center
and opens the drawer where we keep all our video games. She finds the
right part and pulls out the next pair of socks. These are printed with Van
Gogh’s Starry Night painting.
She clutches them to her chest and looks at me. “I love these.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t already have a pair.”
 “Me too. I guess I’ve never seen them anywhere. Okay, let me think.”
Then her face lights up. “Oh!” She races off to our home office where she
has a canvas print of the painting above her desk.
This time when she comes back into the living room, her brow is
furrowed in a frown.
“Did you get us a dog?” She looks up from the pink socks with black
and white dog heads on them.
“You’ll have to go and see.”
Her eyes narrow and she walks to the back door and steps out into our
back yard. We’ve talked about getting a dog, but haven’t made the leap yet.
I’m wondering now if I should have gotten one for today, but nah, I think
she’ll want to be in on that decision.
I move to the door and get myself into position. When she comes back
in, she’s holding the next pair of socks, this are sparkly white with tiny
rings on them.
“Dylan,” she looks up and then realizes I’m on my knees in front of her.
I hold up the ring. “Marry me, Socks. You’re my most favorite person in
the world and I want to grow old with you.”
Her eyes are filled with tears and she nods, giving me a watery laugh
and then a “yes, of course I’ll marry you!”
I stand and pick her up and swing her around. “I love you, Piper.”
“I love you too.”

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 THANK YOU FOR READING!

I hope you loved Dylan and Piper’s story. Please consider leaving me a
review. Keep scrolling for an excerpt from Marry Christmas, Brooks’s
story.
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Other Kat Baxter books

Men in Uniform anthology: The Navy SEAL’s Baby

Knocking Up His Best Friend
Gingerbread Kisses
 Real Men Love Curves
Real Men Love Curls
Real Men Love Charms
Mistletoe Surprise
Fakesgiving
Joy and Payne
Kiss Me (coming 2/11/21)

Prefer to read your books in bundles to save book slots in KU? I’ve got
those too.
Curvy Ever After
Sand Dollar Christmas

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 EXCERPT FROM MARRY CHRISTMAS

Maggie
August, current year…

I've owned my flower shop, Petal Pushers, for the last few years and I
freaking love my job. Most days. I do, however, adore my partner, Bethany.
It’s no surprise to me that when I get to the shop, she’s already there.
"Are you still not sleeping?" I ask as I walk in.
She turns her head and grins at me and I swear she’s got an actual
twinkle in her eye. "It really is a good thing you're not a baker,” she says.
“You are not a nice morning person and if you had to be up before dawn
every morning, we might not be friends. Drink your coffee faster.”
I snort. "Whatever, Mary-Sunshine. Also, I'm a shit baker."
"This, I know. I'm pretty sure I chipped a tooth on those blondies you
made last Christmas." She rubs at her mouth.
"Now, who's not being nice?"
She spins on her stool to face me. "Since you're already grumpy, I will
tell you that Brooks left two more voicemails and also sent an email to the
shop. He really needs to talk to you." She holds up her hands. "His words,
not mine."
Just the mention of his name sets off an unwanted chain reaction of
emotions through my body. My heart pounds. I’m pretty sure my palms are
sweating and I had that goddamn flip of my stomach. I hate that he still has
so much power over me. I hate that I still care, despite desperately trying
not to for the last ten years. "He and I have nothing to discuss," I say.
"Someday you're going to tell me that entire story."
I drop my purse on my cluttered desk, and then collapse in my chair.
"There is not enough tequila in the state of Texas for that conversation."
She shakes her head. "But he isn't an ex-boyfriend?"
I turn and start flipping through the order slips. "He isn't anything."
Which is what I wish were true. And as much as I hate lying to my best
friend, I can’t talk about Brooks. Everything about that man brings pain and
longing to the surface and I’m so damn afraid that once I open that can, I’ll
drown in the sorrow.
 “He might not be anything to you, but he has a really sexy, deep voice.
Also, he's incredibly persistent. He’s been calling and leaving messages and
sending emails for nearly three weeks.”
"I don't think I've had enough coffee to start on the Clifton wedding
flowers," I say, completely ignoring Bethany’s comments about he who
shall not be named.
"Would it make you feel better if I went to Java Bean and got you a
muffin and an espresso?" she asks.
That offer nearly brings tears to my eyes. I have an abnormal
relationship with caffeine. Whatever, at least it’s not drugs. "Would you?
You're too good to me."
"Of course I will. I need to stretch my legs a little anyway. Besides, I am
the Sookie to your Lorelai."
Bethany leaves the shop and I’m left to stew in my own angst. Why is
Brooks trying to contact me? Why now? As curious as I am, I refuse to
respond. It took me years to get over Brooks, I don’t plan to have to do it
again by letting the jackass back into my life.
I don’t care how hot he is. Or how funny. Or how he makes—nope,
made—me feel. We were kids and now I’m an adult and I’ve moved on. So
whatever bug flew up his ass that has made him reach out, he’s going to just
have to deal with it.
The bell from the front door rings and I make my way to the front of the
shop. I’m greeted with a tall, handsome blond guy. He smiles and he’s got
one of those friendly, affable kind of grins. I decide I like him immediately.
“Is Bethany here?”
I scowl because I’m a protective friend, but I have a sneaking suspicion
I know who this is. “Who’s asking?”
He scratches at the back of his short cropped hair. “My name is Jacob
Blackmore. Bethany and I are friends.”
He gives a boyish shrug and I want to pump my fist in the air because
YES! He came for her. The soldier she’s been communicating with for the
last several months is here. I mean I’m assuming that who this is. I’m pretty
sure she told me his name was Jacob. “She’s actually not here right now.”
I hear the back door open and I’m about to call Bethany to the front
when I get a text message. I glance down at my phone.
 BETHANY: I'm not here. Tell him I'm not here!

“Do you know when she’ll be back?” he asks.

"I'm not really sure," I say in an obnoxiously loud voice. Because
obviously Bethany is being a coward and doesn’t want to face this
ridiculously hot guy who’s come calling on her. "She called in sick. Said
she wasn't feeling well. But I can tell her you stopped by."
“I’d appreciate that. Nice to meet you, Maggie, though I feel like I
already know you.” He grins, then turns to go.
I wait until he’s disappeared around the corner outside before I go back
to the other side of the lattice patrician that separates my work space and
the main shop area.
"Who is that?" I ask, even though I strongly suspect I know exactly who
this is. So I play dumb and force her to acknowledge him.
She winces. "I believe that was my soldier pen pal."
"Why didn't you want to see him?" I stare at my friend for a minute.
"Bethany, that man is sex on a stick. Dipped in chocolate. And served with a
cup of perfectly crafted coffee."
She snorts, then shrugs. "It doesn't matter. He's just a pen-pal."
I stare at my friend for a few breaths because I know why she’s doing
this. I kinda want to shake her and see if I can rattle some sense into her.
Because Bethany is an amazing person. She’s funny and beautiful and kind
and talented, but she has scars, like we all do. In her case, though, they’re
physical.
"Please tell me you're not that stupid?"
"I don't even know what you're trying to tell me. What did he say? He's
probably just in town for some Army business and thought he'd look me up
while he was here. It's not a big deal."
"You've been talking to this guy a while, right?"
"Nine months."
"Nine months and you think he just looked you up in passing?"
She shrugs again. "Probably. I don't know." She hands me my muffin
and espresso. "It doesn't matter."
 I greedily sip at my coffee because caffeine is life. “Thank you for this.
A few more sips and I might be able to pass off as a functioning adult.” I
take another swallow. She’s being stubborn and ridiculous. I mean why
wouldn’t she want to spend time with someone whose company I know she
enjoys. And, let’s face it, is hot AF to boot. “What is this really about? He
seemed really nice and if, like you said, he's just passing through, then
maybe he just wanted to go to lunch or something. Don't you want to meet
him?"
"Yes, I do, but it's not that simple."
"I know the caffeine hasn't hit fully yet, but I'm not following. You're
going to have to spell it out for me, oh mysterious one."
Bethany’s big blue eyes rolls. "Your capacity for empathy in the
morning is staggering." She releases a little groan. "The last few months,
he's hinted at wanting something more with me, and I just can't."
My eyes drop to my Bethany’s chest. I can’t see anything because she
always wears something that covers her up. "Is this about your scar?"
"I know you don't understand, Mags, I get it. But I've seen the way men
look at it. They don't want it, don't want me, and I do not have the strength
to go through that again. Especially with him."
I shake my head. I think Bethany had had at least two open heart
surgeries before she turned sixteen. When the time came for her to get a
transplant, she had a boyfriend who had been with her all through high
school and into the beginning of college. After she recovered from her
transplant, he dumped her. He’s clearly a moron.
"This is about that jackhole Brent. But you know he had some serious
issues. You don't stay with a woman when she's unhealthy, then dump her
when she gets a clean bill of health." I point my muffin at her. "That shit is
not normal."
"He's history, and whatever his reasons were for breaking things off
with me, they don't matter anymore."
"Fair enough. So then why not at least meet the hot soldier? You're all
covered up." I point to her high-neck shirt. "What would be the harm in
seeing him right now?"
"I wasn't prepared."
"So you'll see him later? Because he left his phone number."
She mumbles noncommittally.
 "You're scared and you're going to just keep things in writing and never
pursue someone that could be your soulmate?"
"Can we talk about Brooks now?" she snaps.
I shove a piece of muffin in my mouth. When my mouth is empty, I
glare at Bethany. "Touché." Because, no, we are most assuredly not talking
about Brooks. Not today. Not ever.

Buy Marry Christmas or read for FREE on KU

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 ABOUT THE AUTHOR

KAT BAXTER IS the pen name for a bestselling historical romance author.
She lives in Texas with her family and a bunch of furry creatures.

Connect with Kat:

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What readers have said about Kat’s books:

“This was a great story!! I’m not usually one for surprise baby stories but
this one was different. They didn’t wait long for Kevin to find out. It wasn’t
this long drawn out surprise. I liked both characters and the fact that they
were both trying to do right by their child but also each other. I loved how
amazing Jane was as a single mother with always putting her daughter first
but also yearning to want to be someone’s first choice.” ~Stacy, Goodreads
“This story was troupe heavy in the best of ways. Steamy and sweet,
there might even have been a swoon worthy moment or two. I love me a
Navy Seal and this man will be in my dreams. I loved the contrast between
the two main characters, they just worked so well together. Lovely story,
4.5 stars. “ ~Elysian, Goodreads
“5 Stars! Loved it, the initial meet & chemistry between the main
characters and the timeframes throughout throughout the book worked
really well. “ ~ Paula, Goodreads
“Such a very sweet and spicy story!” ~ Lori, Goodreads
“This anthology is packed full of sexy alphas and the badass ladies that
take them on. My favorite stories were Kate Meader’s Coming in Hot and
Kat Baxter’s The Navy Seal’s Secret Baby. “ ~ Kristina, Goodreads
“The connection between the characters felt real, and I liked the
author’s writing style.” ~ Cara, Goodreads

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