Baseball lover. Plant mama. Eternal friend zone dweller.
I know exactly three things:
1) My heart will forever belong to my best friend, Carter.
2) Carter’s heart will never belong to me.
3) I will therefore die alone, surrounded by my houseplants, probably old and grouchy like my eighty-two-year-old landlady, Winifred.
But now Carter’s cousin wants my help planning her wedding, while Carter wants my help stopping it. How am I supposed to both plan and sabotage a wedding at the same time? How do I talk to Carter about weddings all day without my heart fracturing? And how, how, how do I ditch this stupid friend zone once and for all?
P.E. teacher. Baseball coach. Also, attractive. Very, very attractive.
I am not secretly in love with my best friend. I absolutely am not. That would be stupid and reckless and a terrible idea all around. I swore I would never fall in love, and that’s not going to change now.
Except . . . one tiny little kiss has all sorts of feelings rising in my chest. Feelings I was certain I buried a long time ago. But it doesn’t matter; I refuse to give in. I will laugh with her, talk with her, and dry her tears, but I will not fall in love with Samantha Quinn.