Christmas in Pine Island: A small town holiday romance

solid.
I pull back slightly from Morgan, but only enough to rest my forehead against hers. I make a mental note to ask her about Donovan. Maybe Chloe has confided in her.
Sighing, I force myself to stop thinking so hard about what tomorrow will bring. Morgan and I are here now. That’s worth celebrating.
The future is something that can wait . . . at least until after Christmas.
Stacy asks Morgan another question about her latest magazine shoot and I lose her to her animated answer.
This girl . . . she has such big dreams. Watching them come true has been a privilege I don’t take lightly. I know how hard we’ve both worked to get to this elite level in our careers. Could I really ask her to give all that up?
That’s what cutting back our travel would mean.
The timing isn’t ideal. Practically every influential designer in the world is begging for Morgan to strut her stuff down their runway, and she loves every second of it.
I already know the answer to my unspoken question.
I could never take that away from her.
She’s my muse, and I won’t be the one to smother her flame.

Morgan May
Every few seconds, I have to wipe a rebellious tear of joy from my eyes before anyone else sees it.
My beautiful best friend is going to be a mom—a mom!
I can hardly believe it. I'm so thrilled for Stacy that if I wasn’t certain Jake would hate the attention such action would bring, I would’ve screamed at the top of my lungs and thrown my arms around her.
Sweet Stacy may make the most horrible coffee I’ve ever had the displeasure of tasting, but damn will she be a wonderful mother. Not to mention that her kids will be blessed with her amazing home-cooked meals.
She already does such a great job with Ryan. It’s clear as day that the little boy adores her. Stacy has a maternal warmth that I'm not so sure I’ve cultivated yet. I thank my lucky stars that I ended up with her as a roommate when I first moved to the city.
Without Stacy mothering us, I don’t think Chloe and I would have survived. We’re not the domestically blessed type.
But . . . who knows? Maybe once Stacy has the first baby of the group, a few more might follow.
I hold my breath for a moment, waiting to see how my body reacts to such a concept.
It’s a new idea to me. I’ve never really sat still long enough to consider motherhood. And until Eric, I’ve never had a guy I could imagine a future with. But I can now. I don’t even have to close my eyes to picture it—me and Eric, his hand in mine—forever.
I guess I’ve never really thought beyond the happiness we have now. We don’t have a whole lot of time to talk about what comes next when we’re always on the go, jumping from one plane to the next. I change countries like underwear. That’s no life for a baby. But I won’t do this forever.
I glance at Eric and he gives me a wink that makes my heart flutter in my chest. Life is good. I’ve never been this happy, so why fight it? Planning isn’t really our style anyway. As long as I’m with Eric, I’m okay with whatever comes our way.
A flash of our future hits me when Eric gives me a secret smile. To my surprise, no fits of anxiety ripple through me at the thought of a little ankle-biter wedged between us.
Could I really be a mother someday?
It’s easy to see Stacy in that role. Heck, she’s had lots of practice with Ryan. But me? A mom?
I’ve always been more comfortable on the road. I love being able to take off on a whim or surprise Eric by joining him on tour. I wonder what it would feel like to live a more domestic life.
Sometimes, I dream that my life is simple like that. I know Stacy and Jake, and Donovan and Chloe have their own daily agendas to juggle, but at least they can deal with their troubles from the comfort of their own home.
It’s not that I'm ungrateful. I know how lucky Eric and I both are—and how hard we’ve worked to get here. We’ve sacrificed a lot.
Most people, including perhaps even our friends, just see the glamorous side of being famous. They don’t have to deal with the endless travel or the constant spotlight or being far away from the people they care about most.
That old life with Chloe and Stacy in our dingy little apartment where we grew our dreams feels like an entirely different lifetime ago.
My girls and I have come so far.
I cherish our time together—then and now. But still . . . something feels off.
Here we are, days before Christmas, still getting trashed in Club Thorn like we’re freshly minted twenty-one-year-olds.
With gaudy strings of colorful lights and mistletoe hanging everywhere, Club Thorn might be trying to sell the Christmas vibe, but it feels superficial instead of warm and inviting. And believe me when I say that no one asked for a remix of Joy to the World.
If we’ve grown up and accomplished so much, what the heck are we doing back in this place?
“This is depressing,” I mutter under my breath, though a well-timed pause in the booming music meant that all my friends witnessed the stray thought.
“What’s depressing?” Eric asks.
He frowns at me before gently brushing a long lock of blonde hair off my shoulder. As usual, he’s ever affectionate, even when he’s totally wiped from traveling.
I know he’s putting on a brave face right now, but every time he blinks, his whole body slumps slightly to the side like he’s about to pass out in his seat. And he’s not fooling anyone by trying to hide those yawns when he thinks we’re not watching.
“Well . . . this,” I explain, gesturing around us. I'm met with a sea of my friends’