Page 44 of That Time I Kissed My Brother’s Best Friend

“Just let me brush my teeth first,” I say, shuffling behind my family into the hallway.

“I’m hungry,” Brady says. “So don’t do your makeup or anything. Fixing the way you look right now would take forever.”

“Ha ha ha,” I say. Then I look in the mirror. Yikes. Brady isn’t wrong. My hair is a tumbleweed, and my eyes are hollow, so I splash some cold water on my face and whip my wild hair into twist. A few loose strands hang down in uneven tangles. Oh well. Good enough for the people in this house.

“Hurry up, Kase!” Brady shouts from the other side of the door.

“One minute,” I call out, but I take three more to brush and floss my teeth, because excellent dental hygiene is more important than cinnamon rolls. Also, I don’t want to murder any of my family members with my breath. And finally, bugging Brady still gives the little girl in me a secret thrill. But the truth is we’re grownups now. And Brady and I have gotten much closer these past six months. I even stopped being afraid of Natalie’s intentions. Who knew they were actually all good?

As it turns out, trusting people was a thing with me for a long time. And I had decent reasons for my skepticism. But opening up to others and making myself vulnerable feels worlds better than hiding behind walls.

I peer in the mirror, hardly recognizing myself.Who is this Kasey? Someone who’s not afraid to put her heart on the line. Someone who knows that real happiness lies in being yourself and believing you’re worthy of love.Someone who’s gone as mushy as Mom’s cinnamon rolls.

I gargle with mouthwash, spit, and wipe a lingering stretch of toothpaste off my chin. All the while, my mind keeps remembering Beau won’t be here today. There’s a dull ache inside me, an actual physical sensation of longing to be in his arms.

If I had only one wish for Christmas, it would be to spend every day and night with that good man for the rest of my life. To that end, I’ve got a surprise I’ve been dying to share with him.

The next time we can be together, that is.

“KASEY!” Brady bangs on the door. “We’re tired of waiting for you!” Bang bang bang. “Stop trying to make yourself beautiful! That’s as pretty as you’re gonna get!”

“COMING!” I check the mirror one last time. Welp. At least my pajamas are cute. When I throw open the door, my brother’s got one fist in the air and a plate with a cinnamon roll in the other. “Awww. Thanks Brady,” I say, taking the plate. I lift it to my nose and inhale the sugary sweetness.

“That one’s mine,” he says. So I shove half the cinnamon roll in my mouth, smearing warm frosting over half my face.

“Too late,” I mumble through sticky lips.

“Too bad I already licked it,” Brady says.

“Ack!” I spit the mouthful of pastry out, then bobble the plate almost dropping it. Brady swoops in to catch the plate just as someone steps around the corner.

And that’s when I leap into the air and straight into the open arms of Beauregard Slater.

ChapterEighteen

THE MOMENT YOU’VE BEEN WAITING FOR

“Ho, ho, ho,” I boom at Kasey in my deepest, jolliest voice. But the lasthoturns into an “oof” when she lands on me, squeezing the air out of my lungs. Now she’s got all four limbs wrapped around me like she’s a baby koala bear holding onto my fur for dear life. Of course I’m not wearing real fur. No, Kasey’s got her hands full of the white trim on the Santa suit I’m in.

Actually it’s Mr. Graham’s suit. But since my girlfriend is planting kisses all over me now, I’m trying not to think too hard about the fact that I’m dressed like her dad. Or the fact that good old St. Nick might be the least sexy holiday mascot of all time. That’s why I couldn’t bring myself to velcro in the fake belly.

I’ve worked too hard for these abs.

When Kasey plants a final smooch on my nose and slides off onto the floor, I take a step back and take her all in. I am officially speechless. Her holiday pajamas are snow-white cotton, and hugging her curves like they were made for her. Which they definitely were because both the pajama top and the bottoms are covered in … my face.

That’s right. My grinning mug is the pattern printed all over the fabric. In this particular shot, I’m wearing a backward baseball cap, and I’ve got a bandage stretched across my forehead. That’s from the time Brady beaned me with a wild pitch and I needed stitches. But that was junior year. In high school.

I reach up and stroke the scar that’s usually hidden under a wave of rumpled hair. I’m half chuckling and half breathless with surprise. “Where did you get this picture?”

“Shhh.” Kasey presses a finger to her mouth. Those irresistible lips. My throat goes dry. If only I could kiss her right now without an audience of Grahams. Why is there always an audience of Grahams?

“I seriously don’t remember anyone taking my picture that day.”

“Didn’t you get the memo?” She cocks her head. “We former yearbook editors have our secrets.” Her voice is low and soft and sexy. The throaty sound of it makes my mouth even drier. When I gulp, her gaze dips from my eyes to my Adam’s apple. Then to my lips.

Well,HELLOthere, Kasey Elizabeth.

I’d start kissing her right this minute, except the rest of the Grahams still haven’t made themselves scarce yet. And oh, yeah. I’m dressed like the Elf in Chief. Not romantic.

---