BROOKE
“So explain to me how Friendsgiving works?” Damon carries a set of casserole dishes into the condo.
“We split up the responsibilities - you know, because we’re a team,” Jay tells him, setting his stack of dishes on the counter proudly. “Sierra’s on drinks. Nova made pie. Clay, me and Atlas were on side dishes. Decorations are Brooke.”
I twist to wave from where I’m putting up garlands over the windows. My brother comes over and hugs me. He’s tall enough that I don’t even need to get off my ladder.
“Basically you’re the bench,” Damon fills in.
Jay protests. “That’s not true. Sweet potatoes are integral to the Friendsgiving meal.”
Damon cuts me a look. I shrug a shoulder.
“Let him have it. His ego is fragile.” I smile at my brother. “Help me finish putting this up?”
“Dunno if my fragile ego can manage,” he grumbles, but takes the other end of the garland.
Friendsgiving is a Kodiaks tradition. With the team traveling so many days of the basketball season, they care about getting quality time together off the court.
Often the guys end up doing dinner in a private room at a restaurant on an off day between road games.
This year, the schedule worked out so we could have it at home in Denver. Miles and I offered to host since it’s our first year as a couple
Engaged couple. My ring sparkles in the warm light, shooting little stars off the ceiling.
My heart does a little flip.
This time last year, I definitely didn’t expect I’d now be moved in with my brother’s best friend and teammate, the same guy I’ve had a crush on since college.
Miles Garrett—the Kodiaks’ all-star shooting guard and resident comic relief—is the most thoughtful, protective, funny man I’ve ever met.
Plus sexy. Did I mention sexy?
Gah.
The things Miles makes me feel make my toes curl in my sparkly red heels.
And he’s all mine.
The past year has been a whirlwind, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Where’s Miles?” Jay asks me.
“Picking up Grams.” My fiancé’s grandmother is one of the most important people in his life. She’s living in a retirement home close by that he pays for, where they give her the kind and attentive care she deserves.
Lately, she’s been organizing game nights for the seniors to play Monopoly and other classics. Miles insists they’re not betting on them, but I swear I saw one of the older men sliding Grams a pack of chocolate shortbread last week under the table.
Dinner is in a couple of hours, so Sierra gets the guys setting out everything for the cocktail bar she wants to have, even though most of the team will opt for a beer.
“Who’s doing the turkey?” Damon asks.
“Rookie—sorry, Ryan—insisted,” I tell him, reminding myself of Miles’ second-year teammate’s name. “He said he’s starting it at home and finishing it here.”
“Intense.”
“He has a fancy oven in his new place,” Sierra fills in. “He wanted to know what we had in the kitchen at Mile High to compare.”
Jay and I finish hanging the garlands and I take a step back to inspect my work.
“Mom and dad are missing out,” I decide. The smells wafting from the kitchen are delicious, and I put on some holiday music.
“Yeah, they are.” He wraps an arm around my shoulders and squeezes me to his side.
Our relationship has gotten better over the past six months. Jay and I go for dinner there weekly. It doesn’t hurt that Miles and Waffles come along and charm them.
The sound of tinkling bells drifts through the condo as Waffles trots in from the bedrooms, wearing his fuzzy antlers with bells on them.
“You decorated the dog?!” Jay demands.
“He’s a reindeer,” I counter.
“Never heard of a Friendsgiving reindeer.”
“Come on, it’s basically one big holiday season,” Nova and Clay arrive, and I get off the ladder and cross to my friend and her husband, exchanging hugs.
Over the next half hour, the rest of the team filters in, including Chloe. Sierra organizes drinks, and we hang out catching up.
Nova switches the playlist to Michael Bublé Christmas, and my brother protests. “This look like a work day to you?”
“In case you haven’t figured it out, Michael Bublé is what he listens to on the bench to get ready,” I tell Damon, who cracks up. “One year at the all-star game, we pulled this prank on my brother and?—“
“We’re back,” Miles calls from the door.
He’s wearing a big coat, his dark hair is dusted with snow.
“Are you frozen?” Sierra asks. “I can give you something hot.”
I’m hot just looking at my fiancé.
Especially when he holds the door for his grandmother, helping her with her jacket and shoes.
Miles takes in my outfit and I’m extra pleased with my choice of the black minidress over tights when his eyes glint. “I could give you something hot,” he murmurs when he pulls me against him.
His lips brush mine in a kiss that’s supposed to be PDA friendly, but it lights me up everywhere.
It clearly does the same thing to him. “Quick, ditch the party,” he mutters when he pulls back. “Meet you in the bedroom in two minutes.”
I grin and hit him in the arm, even though I’m half tempted to oblige.
Rookie arrives with another guy. We’ve never seen him date anyone, so conversation grinds to a halt.
“Who’s your plus one?” I ask as I help them with coats and direct them toward the kitchen.
“This is my cousin.” Groans go up. Until he adds, “He plays hockey.”
They slide in the foil-covered turkey into the over.
When I return to the living room, the Kodiaks are standing around with their drinks watching across the breakfast bar.
“He’s short.” Clay’s glowering in the way that makes him even more intimidating than all the tattoos showing out of his rolled-up sweater sleeves.
“No way. Six two at least.” Nova, as the shortest of us, corrects.
Clay’s frown deepens.
“He looks pretty built,” I add helpfully. He’s no threat to Miles, who’s getting his grams a seat, but I’m enjoying how weirded out the guys are and figure I could add a log to the fire.
“He has a beard.” Jay frowns.
“It’s probably for the season. I like it. It’s masculine,” Chloe goes on.
Jay scratches his bare chin. “Putting up twenty five a night isn’t masculine enough for you?”
We all chat and catch up, the kitchen getting more and more full of food. A timer reminds me it’s almost dinner.
I hear my name from the kitchen in a panicked male voice.
“What’s wrong?” I ask as I run in.
Ryan, his cousin and Miles are peering down at the range.
“I overcooked it,” Ryan says.
“Bro, did you follow the instructions?” Miles asks.
“Yeah.”
“Maybe your oven is just extra good,” Ryan’s cousin says.
Miles pulls up his phone. “This what you did? Fifteen minutes a pound?”
“I thought the turkey was measured in kilograms.” Ryan blinks. “I cooked it long enough for fifteen kilos. About thirty-three pounds. Is that wrong?”
Groans go up.
“Why the hell would you think that?” Jay hollers from behind us, hearing the conversation.
“I’m Canadian.”
Silence goes around the group. “No shit.”
The other girls and I exchange looks.
“It’s totally edible.” Ryan’s cousin pokes at the leg with a fork and it falls off, sending up a puff of steam. Waffles yip excitedly at our feet.
“Well, fuck. What’re we doing to do?” Jay asks.
“We have a ton of side dishes.” Miles points out.
We decide to order pizzas to go with them.
While we’re waiting, there’s another knock on the door. “Everyone’s already here,” I murmur.
I go to answer it and it’s my mom and dad.
“Surprise! We made it.” She pushes flowers into my hands.
A little bundle yips from the floor.
“What the…”
“We got a dog. It’s why we’ve been running around the past few weeks,” she admits.
“Lab?” Miles asks as he takes the flowers for me and I kneel down to see the sleek little black ball, his tail wiggling his entire body.
“Sure is,” dad answers.
We get everyone around the extra long table I rented for the occasion. I ordered enough chairs but with three surprise guests, there still aren’t enough.
We try knocking on neighbors’ doors but with no luck. So, we borrow a few yoga balls from the gym to sit on. The guys bring them in just as the pizza arrives.
We settle everyone around the table, covered with candles and glasses and gold napkins.
Steam rises as we open the pizza boxes, mixing with the aromas of all the side dishes. Miles catches my eye from his seat next to mine and winks. My chest tightens and butterflies fill my stomach.
They always do when he looks at me like that.
Someone dims the lights, and the glow from the candles I scattered across the table creates a warm, intimate atmosphere despite our large group. The garlands shimmer, catching the light just right. Snow falls softly outside the windows, making everything feel magical.
"Before we eat," Miles says, standing up from his yoga ball, "I want to propose a toast." He raises his glass, looking directly at me. "To family of all kinds, and to traditions new and old. And my fiancée.” The word makes my skin tingle. “Brooke, you make everything better – even burnt turkey."
Everyone laughs and cheers. I feel my cheeks flush as Miles leans down to kiss me softly.
Nova starts passing dishes around the table. The sweet potatoes (Jay beams proudly), green bean casserole, stuffing, and cranberry sauce make their way around. Sierra's signature cocktails keep flowing.
"Remember when Atlas tried to deep fry a turkey in the parking lot one year?” Clay asks, and the team erupts in laughter.
Grams reaches over and pats my hand. "You know," she says quietly, her eyes twinkling, "I've never seen him happier than when he's with you."
Under the table, Miles' foot finds mine, and he gives me that look – the one that makes me forget anyone else is in the room. The one that promises forever.
The puppies play under the table, occasionally popping up to beg for scraps. Waffles' bells jingle merrily as he makes his rounds.
My mom leans over. "I'm sorry we almost missed this," she whispers.
“I’m glad you didn’t,” I say with a smile.
After dinner, someone suggests karaoke. Nova pulls up Michael Bublé on her phone, and Jay groans dramatically but ends up singing anyway.
Miles pulls me up to dance in the living room as "Everything" plays, holding me close.
“Need anything, Princess?” he asks me.
“Nothing,” I confess. We have friends and family around us, their laughter the best soundtrack in the world. “Well, maybe a bigger place if we’re going to host next year.”
“Mmmm.” He makes a considering noise I feel through his chest.“You got it. And maybe another dog?” He eyes the puppy, playing tug of war with a perplexed Waffles over a purple Kodiaks T-shirt one of them found somewhere, longingly.
Before I can answer, Jay calls out, "Hey! We're doing dessert. Nova's pie isn't going to eat itself!"
Miles kisses my temple. "To be continued," he whispers.
We return to the table, where Nova's cutting her pumpkin pie. The conversation flows easily, punctuated by laughter and the occasional yoga ball squeak. Looking around at our mismatched family – basketball players, partners, puppies, and all – I catch Miles' eye again and smile.
This is exactly where we're meant to be.
The evening winds down with people sprawled across our furniture, full of food and happiness. Miles pulls me onto his lap in the oversized armchair, and I nestle into him, breathing in his familiar scent.
"Best Friendsgiving ever?" he asks.
I look up at him, at the love in his eyes, at our family around us. "Best everything ever."
Miles brushes his lips over mine. “We’re just getting warmed up.”
I believe him.
Thank you for reading this unedited bonus scene of Miles, Brooke, and the entire Denver Kodiaks team!