Page 66 of Falling for my Brother's Best Friend

She thumbs through the empty pages that are ready for her deep thoughts, or what her day was like, or just to doodle flowers and stars on. “I love it.”

“I’m glad.”

Our eyes lock over the breakfast bar, and she slides off the stool. Our gazes don’t waver the entire time she rounds the counter. Instinctively, I place my coffee mug on the counter and open my arms.

She rises on her tiptoes, wraps her arms around my neck, and hugs me. “Thank you.”

I wrap my arms around her waist. We stand with mere inches between our bodies, and I breathe her in. Even after her run, this must be what heaven is like.

“You’re welcome,” I whisper, and she shivers before falling down to her heels. I let her go and step back.

“You could’ve just told me I should buy one.”

I shake my head. “Keep it locked up if you don’t want anyone to read it.”

“What?” She heads back to her stool, looking over the journal again as though she can’t wait to put a pen to paper and jot down everything that runs through that pretty head of hers.

“You used to leave your diary in easy-to-find places.”

The journal drops out of her hands onto the granite counter and her mouth hangs open. “You read my diary?”

“I was a twelve-year-old boy.” I shrug. “I was only a reader, not the seeker.”

“Denver?” she asks.

I nod.

“And what did you find out about me?”

I dump my coffee in the sink and put my cup in the dishwasher. “Just that you hoped Ian Troppel would ask you to prom and you were going to make a voodoo doll of Mr. Japlin because he gave you a B on a paper.”

She laughs. I love the way the sound bounces off the walls and fills the room. Even more, I love that I caused it. “I wonder what happened to my old diary?”

I shrug.

“You guys didn’t take it or anything?”

“I can’t speak for your brothers, but I didn’t.”

She hugs the journal. “Thanks again. I’d gladly pay you—”

I put up my hand. “Stop. You’re welcome.” Her small smile says how grateful she is I got her a gift. I shouldn’t push my luck, but I’m going to. “Want to go on a ride with me today?”

“As in?” She puts the tissue paper and journal back in the box and secures it with the lid, bunching the ribbon in her hand.

“A ride on my Harley. I’m doing it for a charity, and I thought you’d like to join me.”

She raises her chin slightly. I can see I’m going to be shot down. “And I’d have to ride?”

I try to fight back a smile, but it breaks through. “On the back of my bike.”

Her body sinks down on her stool, but not in a way that indicates she thinks that’s the worst option available. “Um…”

“Well, you can think about it. I have to go shower. I’m leaving in about an hour.” I head to the staircase.

“Liam?”

I circle back around, raising my eyebrows in question.

---