Chapter 3 #2
His lips tip up in that half smile again and he comes over, taking the stool next to mine and turning sideways so he faces me, our knees bumping. Grabbing a cookie, he takes a bite and groans. “Holy fucking shit. This is the best cookie I’ve ever eaten,” he mumbles.
I don’t know if it’s the late night or Brian’s sleepy eyes or his perfectly messy hair or the snow still falling outside the window, but my brain chooses this moment to go rogue. “I bet my…cookie would be better.”
Holy cringe stop talking Liv oh my god.
Brian doesn’t seem put off at all by my cringe. Instead, his eyes shoot to mine, his gaze suddenly feral as it travels slowly down my body and back up again and I heat from the inside out. The slow smirk that spreads over his face as his eyes meet mine again might be my undoing.
What the fuck is going on?
“I can’t wait to be the judge of that,” Brian says, his voice low and a little raspy. And then, as if that extremely hot and entirely weird moment didn’t just happen, he takes another bite of his cookie, his voice returning to normal. “Seriously though, this is amazing.”
“Right?” I ask, studying the cookies in front of me, because I may currently have damp underwear, but I’ll always take a compliment praising my baking prowess.
Perfectly shaped with pools of caramel and melted chocolate on top, decorated with M&Ms and pieces of Reese’s cups.
Masterpieces, if I do say so myself. “They’re my snow cookies. ”
He swallows and reaches for another. “They should be your always cookies.”
I smile, taking a bite of mine, the flavors bursting in my mouth and bringing with them a thousand memories.
“But then they wouldn’t be special. This was my mom’s recipe.
She used to make them for us when we had a bad day or when we had something to celebrate.
They weren’t a just because cookie. Monster cookies are cookies with purpose. ”
“Cookies with purpose,” Brian says thoughtfully. “I like that.”
“Me too. So, aside from these being the cookies we eat when it snows, maybe they can also be the cookies we eat when you tell me why you don’t have Christmas decorations.”
Brian takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, studying my face, almost like he’s trying to decide if I’m a safe person to tell his secrets to.
And suddenly, he’s not my older brother’s best friend, and I’m not his best friend’s ten-years-younger sister.
We’re just two people, sharing cookies and middle-of-the-night secrets in the dark with a view of the falling snow.
“The easy answer is that I’m too busy to bother during football season.
This time of year is manic. Either the season is winding down or, like this year, it’s a ramp up to the playoffs.
I’m pulled in a million different directions all the time, and things like what my house looks like fall way down the list.”
“And the hard answer?”
Brian huffs out a laugh. “I figured you wouldn’t let me get away with the easy answer.”
I shrug, taking another bite of a cookie. “I’m not an easy answer kind of girl. I like to know everything. It’s the little sister in me.”
“You’re not my little sister,” Brian mumbles, his gaze falling to my lips, sending a bolt of heat straight to my core.
“No,” I say deliberately. “I’m not. But I am here, and so are you, so tell me a secret, Bry. I promise I’ll keep it safe.”
His eyes flash, either at the nickname or my promise to hold his secrets, and in a move so quick I barely even see it and so hot I forget to breathe, he captures one of my legs between both of his. “It didn’t seem worth the trouble.”
“Decorating?” I ask.
He nods. “All my friends have partners and kids, so when we get together, it’s always at one of their houses.
Kids at Christmas, you know? There’s so much joy in all of their houses.
So much love and laughter and fun that it makes sense to be there.
But when I’m here, it’s just me. Decorating just for myself seemed kind of ridiculous, especially when no one ever comes here.
” He shrugs, looking uncomfortable. “I never meant for this loft to be permanent. When I first came here to be close to Jeremy, they offered it to me since, by that point, Jeremy and Ben had homes and families of their own. I had just sold my company and was about to start my new job at the stadium, and it made sense at the time, you know? I always figured this would be temporary and that I would settle down somewhere in Squirrel Hill closer to everyone, but five years later, I’m still right here. ”
Brian runs a hand over his mouth like maybe he’s wishing he could shove all those words back in, but I heard them loud and clear, and one thought runs through my mind.
He’s lonely.
“I’m here,” I say, reaching out and laying a hand over his on the island. He immediately flips his hand over, lacing our fingers together, and I feel that touch everywhere.
“What do you mean?” he asks, his voice a little raspy.
“You said no one ever comes here. But I’m here in the middle of the night making a giant mess in your kitchen and baking more cookies than any person reasonably needs and probably jacking up your heating bill because I like the smell of snow.” I shrug. “You’re not alone because I’m right here.”
Brian swallows hard and seems to move just a little closer to me, running his thumb lightly over mine as a shiver works its way up my spine. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says quietly.
“Yeah?” I manage hoarsely as my body moves involuntarily closer to his.
“Yeah.” Brian brings his free hand to my cheek, and his eyes lock on mine as he slides to the edge of his stool, our bodies just inches apart. “My loft feels happier with you in it, Liv. I feel happier, too.”
The idea that he’s happy because of me, that I could make him that way, is a powerful thing. I slide to the edge of my stool too, and with our bodies almost flush, our eyes never averting, we stand there on the precipice.
“Liv,” Brian says in a low voice.
“What?” I practically whisper.
“I really want to kiss you.”
I smile, my free hand sliding over his hip, the heat of his skin seeping through his shirt and warming my palm as he sucks in a harsh breath. “So kiss me.”
Letting my hand go, Brian slides his arm around my waist and dips his head, pressing his lips to mine.
The second our lips touch, my stomach shimmers and I sigh, practically melting into him as our mouths move together.
It’s slow at first. Not exactly tentative, but careful, an exploration of sorts.
A kind of question that somehow, someway, I already know the answer to.
Brian pulls back, his eyes still on mine. His pupils are blown, and his chest rises and falls rapidly as he looks at me with desire swimming in his gaze.
“Liv.”
My name has never sounded the way it does coming from Brian’s mouth.
Like a plea and a prayer all at once and then he’s letting my hand go, cupping my face in both of his hands and tiling my head back, crashing our mouths together.
Heat explodes in my belly and fireworks ignite in my brain as Brian spins us, pushing me back against the island and locking our bodies together as his tongue glides over my lips.
I open for him, and he dives inside, licking into my mouth as need for him swims in my blood.
Brian’s hands slide around my neck and into my hair, tilting my head exactly where he wants it, and god, I want it too.
This. Him. Everything.
His lips are full and soft, and he tastes like cookies and smells like pine and something spicy that is now my favorite scent in the world.
The dark, cozy night wraps itself around us, and electricity snaps and crackles as we devour each other.
Brian takes the kiss deeper and swallows my moan as he groans into my mouth, pressing his hips tighter against mine.
He’s hard against my belly and my clit throbs with need, the ache between my legs almost unbearable.
I’ve been kissed before, but I have never, ever been kissed like this. I never want to stop.
“Fuck, Liv,” Brian murmurs against my lips, one hand dropping to my waist to slide under my sweatshirt, pressing against my lower back. “This is probably a bad idea.”
“Such a bad idea,” I say, practically panting at the feel of his skin against mine.
And it is. He’s my brother’s best friend and we both live here, our lives tied together in all kinds of ways that make this wildly complicated.
But somehow, when Brian’s lips skate over my jaw and down my neck before he eases back again and presses his forehead to mine, I can’t seem to care about any of that.
“Your brother would probably kill me.”
“Probably, but nobody cares what he thinks.”
Brian huffs out a laugh, bringing his mouth back to mine in a long, slow, dizzying kiss. “In this moment, I certainly don’t. I just want to kiss you some more, and we can deal with tomorrow, tomorrow. I’ve been waiting a long time to have you in my arms.”
I start to ask him what he means by that, but then his lips are back on mine and every rational thought falls right out of my head.
With the scent of winter and cookies surrounding us and the snow still falling outside, Brian and I kiss and kiss and kiss, and nothing in the history of the world has ever felt so right.
Even if it’s probably all completely wrong.