Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
OLIVIA
Huffing out a quiet breath, I flip over in bed for the millionth time and close my eyes, willing myself to fall asleep.
Unsuccessfully. This is the most comfortable bed I’ve ever laid in, and I swear these sheets are made out of clouds, but my traitorous brain keeps running the moment by the window from earlier tonight on repeat.
The moment where I’m ninety percent sure my brother’s much older best friend was about to kiss me, and I would have let him if said brother’s Please tell me you’re okay text didn’t dump a bucket of ice-cold water over the whole thing.
My entire body tingles at the thought of kissing Brian, and I shoot up, launching myself out of bed before I do something insane like shove my hand down my pants and touch myself to the thought of his tousled brown hair, dark, penetrating gaze, and muscled forearms. I want to lick those forearms…
and there’s a thought I’ve never had before.
Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, I groan when I see it’s only one thirty.
There are way too many hours left until morning, and I need to do something to banish all this restless energy.
Easing the guest room door open, I pad down the hall.
All the lights are off, and it’s still snowing thickly outside.
With the massive living room windows, it feels like I’m standing in the world’s coziest, most perfect snow globe.
Or, it would be perfect if this apartment was decorated for Christmas.
What kind of psychopath doesn’t have Christmas decorations up in December?
I set that thought aside for later because when it’s the middle of the night and there’s snow and it’s almost Christmas—even without Christmas decorations—there’s only one thing I want to do.
Without a second thought, I turn and walk into Brian’s kitchen, opening cabinets and drawers at random.
When I find a well-stocked baking shelf and an entire drawer full of candy, I grin like a lunatic.
Score.
Flicking on the light over the stove, shoving the sleeves of Brian’s massive sweatshirt up my arms, and opening the small kitchen window to let winter inside, I lose myself in my happiest place.
“Are you…baking?”
I whirl around, my heart thundering in my chest at the interruption.
When I see Brian standing in the living room, eyes still heavy with sleep, jaw shadowed, and hair a mess, wearing navy-blue plaid sleep pants and a gray Henley with the top button unbuttoned, my heart thunders for an entirely different reason.
Middle of the night Brian is hot as fuck.
And there’s another thought I’ve never had before.
“You scared the shit out of me.”
One side of Brian’s lips tilts up in an amused half-smile.
“You were pretty focused on…whatever it is you’re doing.
” He scans the countertops currently covered in ingredients, baking sheets, more than a small dusting of flour, and what looks like an entire grocery store’s worth of candy.
Kitchen Olivia is a chaos demon. “What are you doing, exactly?”
I grab an errant M&M from the counter, tossing it up and catching it in my mouth—one of my very best skills. “I’m baking monster cookies.”
“You’re…huh?” Brian asks, scrubbing a hand down his face like he’s still trying to wake up. It’s ridiculously adorable.
“Couldn’t sleep,” I say, taking a sip of the latte I made earlier using his very fancy espresso machine.
“When I can’t sleep, and it’s snowing outside, I like to bake cookies.
I’d apologize for ransacking your kitchen but, well, I’m not sorry.
” I shrug, unapologetically. “As soon as I saw your very impressive candy supply, all I could think about was monster cookies. And pretty sure all you’ll be able to think about is monster cookies too, because mine are incredible and the first batch should be out of the oven in like ten minutes. ”
He blinks at me like he’s trying to absorb all of my words and then, like he wakes up all at once, his gaze sharpens and sweeps slowly down over me and then back up again.
When he meets my eyes, the look in his can only be described as hunger, and my entire body heats.
I have no idea what is happening right now or why Brian is suddenly looking at me like he could devour me whole, but I don’t hate it at all.
And then, like the moment never happened, the hungry look disappears from his eyes. He leans a hip against the counter and crosses his arms over his chest, studying me like he’s trying to figure something out. “Why couldn’t you sleep?”
Because you almost kissed me and I kind of want you to do that and then a whole lot more than that seems like the wrong answer, so I try for something else. “Couldn’t shut my brain off. I have a to-do list a mile long for Jeremy’s gala, and I have to get all my shit together for Italy. It’s a lot.”
Something flickers in Brian’s eyes that I can’t quite read, but it’s gone before I can figure it out. “Six months in Italy sounds incredible. You must be excited.”
That exact emotion shimmers through me as I think about my impending adventure. “I’m so excited. Cooking and baking in Italy for six months with some of the most famous chefs in the world? It’s a dream. I’m so ready for an adventure.”
Brian chuckles a little. “Moving to Pittsburgh wasn’t adventure enough for you?”
I roll my eyes, leaning against the counter, facing him. “Hardly. I love it here, and I love being close to Gabe and Molly and their kids, but I need to stretch my wings a little without my older brother breathing down my neck every damn day.”
“So, you’re coming back after Italy?”
I study Brian, trying to read his tone. It sounds…
hopeful almost? Whatever it is makes my stomach swoop, and I nod.
“I am. Gabe is my favorite person. He basically raised Amelia and me when our parents died. I was only eight, and I still needed a lot of parenting, so even though Gabe is my brother, in a lot of ways, he’s a father figure for me.
That makes our relationship more complicated than most brothers and sisters.
When I moved east to D.C. for college, leaving him was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
I had lost my parents, and he was my stability.
Amelia too, but she was finishing college and starting her own life, so it was different.
I did it, and I’m proud of those years, but I wanted to be close to him.
I figured that would be San Francisco, but then he moved here to be with Molly.
I know what it’s like to lose people you love, and I never wanted to live far away from the family I had left.
I could have gone to Boston to be near Amelia, but something about Pittsburgh called to me.
I love it here, and this is the place I want to be, but getting accepted to the culinary school in Italy felt like a sign that I needed to do that first.”
I still, a little shocked that I said all that.
I don’t usually share much about my parents’ deaths and my relationship with Gabe, but standing in the dim kitchen with the smell of snow and baking cookies filling the space made the truth come tumbling out.
It’s easier, somehow, because of the late night and because this is Brian.
He’s Gabe’s best friend and he probably already knows most of this from Gabe, so opening up to him feels natural. Right, even.
“I love it here, too.” Brian’s voice is soft, considering almost, like this isn’t something he’s thought about much. “It gets into your bones, doesn’t it? Pittsburgh, I mean. Something about this city.”
I nod, smiling. “I know exactly what you mean. I don’t know what it is, and I can’t explain it. It becomes a part of you, and you a part of it, until you can’t imagine living anywhere else.”
Pushing off the counter, Brian opens the fridge and grabs two bottles of water, handing one to me.
He uncaps his, drinking deeply, and the sight of his throat working as he swallows has heat rushing through me.
“I definitely can’t imagine being anywhere else.
When Jeremy and I found each other, I was ready to leave Maryland, and I think I probably would have gone wherever he was, but I’m glad it was here. This is my place too.”
I want to ask him a zillion questions about his learning of his father’s affair and finding out he had a brother late in life, and how that affected him, but I get the sense he would shut right down if I tried.
Maybe one day, but not now. Instead, I smirk at him, making a show of glancing around the loft.
“If this is really your place, don’t you think you should maybe decorate it for Christmas or something?
I mean, you don’t have so much as a tabletop tree. Do you even actually live here?”
Brian looks around, almost like he’s seeing his house for the first time. “Sometimes I wonder…” he murmurs, then he snaps his gaze back to me, as if he’s surprised those words came out of his mouth. “Jesus,” he mumbles. “The kitchen after dark is like a truth serum or something.”
His words mirror my thoughts so well that I just stare at him for a minute. “Maybe it’s the snow,” I say, glancing over at the windows. “I’ve always though the snow brought magic with it.” I pause for a second and then decide to just go for it. “What did you mean when you said Sometimes I wonder?”
Brian’s fists clench and he lets out a harsh breath, his gaze darting around the open kitchen and living room, his entire demeanor screaming uncomfortable.
This man is oceans deep, and I suddenly want to discover all of his hidden depths.
The oven timer chooses that second to ring, so I turn, giving Brian a minute while I take the cookies out and slide them onto the cooling racks I have set up.
Grabbing a plate, I transfer a few hot cookies onto it and carry them to the island, sliding sideways onto a stool and looking back at Brian. “Want a cookie?”