Page 46 of The Friends and Rivals Collection

I’M IMAGINING

Hazel

He doesn’t do bad things to me in an escape room.

Please. Cameras and all. But we do win. What can I say?

I’m a competitive monster too. We located the stolen work of art before Carter and Rachel, my sister and her fiancé, and my friend Ellie and her guy Gabe did. They’re all in town for the holidays.

Now, with the escape room behind us, we’re all hanging out at Gin Joint, a speakeasy in Chelsea. The fireplace roars and torch songs play overhead.

“I demand a rematch,” Carter says, lounging on a blue velvet couch as he lifts his beer. “Who’s in? Tomorrow. We’ll find another one. And this time, Gabe and I will win.”

Ellie’s fiancé, Gabe, cracks up, then shakes his head.

“Dude, do not volunteer me for another one of those. You’re lucky you got me to go to one at all,” says the football player.

Carter and Gabe are both receivers—Carter plays for the San Francisco Renegades, and Gabe just retired from the Los Angeles Mercenaries. They’re good friends too.

Carter rolls his eyes. “Big, tough football player hates escape rooms.”

“I do not hate escape rooms,” Gabe corrects. “I simply prefer poker, blackjack, and betting games.”

My sister’s fiancé, Milo, jerks his gaze toward the guys. “Poker? Did someone say poker? Let’s play tonight.”

“I’m in,” Axel says, lifting his tumbler of whiskey in a yes. “And I will destroy all of you.”

I roll my eyes, then ruffle his hair. “You’re extra competitive when you think you can win.”

“Damn right,” my guy says, and I love that he’s changed some things about him—like opening his heart—but he’s remained the same in other ways. Like hating escape rooms and jumping at the chance to play a fierce game of cards. He leans in and plants a kiss on my cheek. “Just like you are.”

From her cozy chair, Rachel sips her martini, watching the guys peacock. There’s a sly look in her eyes. When she sets down the glass, she says, “Or we could all go to a new wine and beer tasting tomorrow. Hazel and I got tickets to a cool spot in Brooklyn. Want to come?”

If there’s one way to capture a table’s interest, that did it.

Carter jumps first. “I’m in,” he says, then after yeses abound, he switches seats with Milo and slides in next to Rachel.

“So, I had to come all the way to New York to see you. What’s the deal with that?” he asks her playfully.

“I saw you last week in San Francisco,” she points out with a smile.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m just saying…you’re avoiding me.”

She rolls her eyes. “I am not avoiding you. Ever.”

“You better not be. Don’t tell any of these guys, but you’re definitely my favorite friend.”

Rachel’s cheeks flush pink, then she says softly, but not too soft for me to hear, “I’ll keep your secret.” Then she adds, “And you’re mine.”

As they chat more, I slowly turn my gaze to Axel, asking with my eyes if he heard that.

His irises say yes.

“My friend and your brother?” I ask quietly, just to confirm the obvious.

“They’ve been friends for a long time,” he remarks.

I dip my face closer to his ear. “I’m imagining a friends-to-lovers romance.”

He arches a doubtful brow. “You think so?”

“I sure do,” I say, then lift my wine and clink my glass to his. “We have a little bit of that too.”

He just smiles, speechless once again.

When we leave a little later, I’m not thinking of anyone else’s romance. Just mine with this man who’s my partner, my guy, and truly, my very best friend.

I go home with him, and it’s where I belong.