Chapter 19
nineteen
“I wouldn’t call Die Hard a classic.”
Josh chuckled as he led me farther inside of his friend’s apartment. I expected it to smell like the college apartments I had been in, but it oddly held the scent of cinnamon and air freshener.
“Depends who you ask, I guess.”
“Yep,” I said, rolling my eyes good-naturedly. “How could I miss Die Hard on Christmas?”
Josh’s friend gave a wide smile. “You’re in for a wild ride. Who needs a Christmas rom-com when you’ve got this? Hi. I’m Matt.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Brielle.”
“Brielle! Good to have ya. I told Josh that he could bring someone around if he wanted to tonight. He keeps talking about you.”
“Oh.” I glanced at Josh. He didn’t say anything.
It was my turn, I guessed, to set the record straight much like Josh did our first night out at the bar when he ran into an old co-worker, even if the words felt stiff coming out.
“Must not be me. We aren’t together or anything.
My friend—his sister is my friend, and now we live together, but just as friends. ”
Matt pressed his lips together and nodded. “I think I got it. Either way, glad to have you. Mi casa es tu casa. There are drinks in the fridge and snacks out.”
“Thanks.”
Once Matt headed to the kitchen to grab himself a drink, Josh stepped behind me, his hands brushing my shoulders as he helped slide off my coat.
He’d done the same thing earlier, and just like before, the sensation lit a current of awareness down my spine.
I told myself it was just the temperature difference between inside and out, but we both knew better.
As I turned slightly, he leaned in close, his breath grazing the shell of my ear. “You didn’t have to do that.”
I blinked, tilting my head to glance up at him. “Do what?”
“Tell Matt we weren’t together.” Josh’s jaw shifted. He didn’t quite meet my eyes.
“It’s not a big deal,” I said with a shrug, trying to downplay the weird tightness in my chest. “I just figured maybe you wanted that line drawn. Like at the bar, with your other friend the other week. I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”
Josh gave a short nod. “All good.”
But something in the way he’d said it told me it wasn’t.
I didn’t press.
We moved deeper into the apartment, which, in contrast to our shared space, felt freshly scrubbed and expensive. Wide windows spilled soft light across mid-century furniture, and I could see the blinking red of a water tank on a neighboring rooftop. A little oasis tucked into the city skyline.
A few of Josh’s friends greeted us with nods and casual warmth. One of them practically melted into the couch with a girl snoozing on his shoulder.
“Nice to meet you, Brielle.” They each offered a friendly smile.
“Nice to meet you too.”
“How do you know Josh?”
“My sister,” Josh answered quickly before I could open my mouth.
“That’s cool. You new to the city or a repeat offender, like this guy?”
“I’ve been here a few months,” I said, tucking my hands into the sleeves of my oversized cardigan sweater. “Still trying to find a job though.”
“What do you do?”
“She’s a writer,” Josh said, quick, confident. Still not looking at me.
I glanced over at him.
“She’s got a newsletter with a solid audience,” he added.
I wouldn’t say a solid audience. “It’s new.”
“That’s awesome,” the guy replied, impressed. “What kind of stuff do you write?”
“Mostly essays right now,” I said. “Stories, I guess. It’s a little bit of everything.”
Josh settled onto the couch. I hesitated only briefly before slipping into the open spot beside him. The alternative was either perching awkwardly near a group of guys I didn’t know or sitting on the floor. Not ideal options when my entire body still felt vaguely like a food poisoning hangover.
Besides, sitting next to Josh felt … familiar. Safe. At least, that was what I told myself.
The movie had already started—Die Hard, of course. The undisputed king of holiday-adjacent action films.
The others chatted about sports and work, filling the space with easy conversation, but I was only half listening. Every time Josh shifted next to me, every accidental brush of his shoulder against mine, it sent little sparks ricocheting through my system.
I was a mess.
Get it together, I told myself. It’s just Josh. Couch dweller. Childhood fixture. Professional toast burner.
He was Gina’s brother. And I was definitely—definitely—not allowed to feel like this.
But then Matt, now back and settled across the couch, leaned toward me with a friendly grin.
“I really was surprised to see Josh bring someone,” he said. “He’s always collecting friends, but …”
“I had other plans actually. He just saved me from a pretty pathetic night alone.”
“Really? What happened?”
“My date canceled. It was last minute.”
“What an idiot. Our gain,” he said with an easy wink. “You made the better call anyway. Die Hard over overpriced tapas and weak cocktails? No contest.”
That made me laugh. “You’re not wrong.”
We fell into a surprisingly comfortable rhythm.
We talked about movies, mutual hatred of mall crowds this time of year, and how Christmas shopping got more competitive every year.
It was easy in a way I hadn’t expected. And it was …
kind of nice. A break from the awkwardness I’d been drowning in for weeks.
Josh, meanwhile, had stood and wandered off toward the kitchen. The open floor plan made it easy to see him from where I sat—his tall frame moving around the fridge and cabinets.
“Anyone need a snack?” he called over his shoulder.
“I’m good,” Matt said, his gaze flicking back to me. “So, you like the city so far? Josh mentioned you were writing, but didn’t say much more.”
I started to respond, “Yeah—”
“Could you actually help me with something?” Josh interrupted, still near the fridge but looking directly at Matt now. His voice was polite, but there was a sharpness beneath it.
Matt looked at him, clearly confused. “Uh … sure.”
He stood, apologizing with a cheery smile. “Be right back.”
I watched as he crossed to the kitchen. Josh didn’t move until Matt was close, and then the two of them disappeared just out of sight, behind the edge of a cabinet.
The low hum of conversation filled the room, but I suddenly couldn’t hear any of it. I stared straight ahead at the movie, but my pulse was thumping hard in my ears.
Josh hadn’t looked at me once.
And I couldn’t tell if it was because he was annoyed … or jealous.
Or worse, if I wanted him to be.
Smiling, I leaned back into the couch as the movie continued, though it appeared we were almost already past the halfway point. I might not be a die-hard fan of Die Hard, like Matt was, but I was kind of sad it was going so quickly.
Matt came back with his lips pressed together, sitting down on the other end of the couch.
I raised my eyebrows at him as he situated himself to get more comfortable. “All good?”
“Great. Can’t believe I missed so much of the movie.”
“I was just thinking the same thing.”
He gave a single curt nod.
I narrowed my eyes. “What did Josh need help with?”
He glanced at me. “Huh?”
Blinking, I couldn’t help but feel a drastic shift in his demeanor.
What had just happened?
Matt had been easygoing and even playful with me a second ago, but now his attention was entirely focused on me, and there was something about his look that made my stomach churn.
Swallowing, I refocused my attention back on the television, and Matt turned his previously chatty energy back to his friends, who were talking about the differences between the uptown versus downtown restaurant they all liked.
Josh flopped back down on the couch beside me with a loud sigh, as if nothing had changed.
“Hey,” I said, nudging him.
He crunched on a fistful of popcorn. He barely glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “What?”
I breathed out through my nose and shook my head. I looked between him and then toward Matt again. He didn’t seem to get the hint, and I … didn’t say anything.
Everyone quietly chatted like nothing had happened between the two of them when he mysteriously lured Matt away to the kitchen and returned with a personality transplant.
“Nothing.”
“Good movie?” He asked.
“Great,” I said, my voice tight.