Page 1 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
1. How to Kiss Your Best Friend
Chapter One
Brody
I stare at myphone like it’s about to sprout legs out of the speaker port and dance across the coffee table.
Kate Fletcher sent me a text.
Today.
Five minutes ago.
And I have no idea how to respond.
Look, I realize better than anyone that pining after my childhood best friend is a dangerous game. I have three brothers, and they have reminded me more times than I can count (and that’s saying something because I am very good with numbers) that I am only setting myself up for heartbreak. They say if anything were going to happen with Kate, it would have by now.
Logically, I get that. I understand we aren’t ever going to be together.
But I can’t let her go completely.
Kate is my favorite bad habit. The impossible wish. The dream I can’t shake.
It’s been one thousand, four hundred and thirty-three days since we last had a conversation. That streak ended today. At least it will once I respond.
I stand up and start pacing, my fingers tapping against my leg. There are so many things I want to ask her. But I can’t launch into an inquisition when all she said was hello. She’s the one who reached out to me. I’m a mature adult, and a mature adult would say hello back and let her make the next move.
I am seventeen laps into my pacing when my oldest brother, Perry, knocks twice before pushing into my house, a backpack slung over his shoulder. “You . . . do not look ready to go.”
I pause next to the fireplace, halfway through lap eighteen. “I’m . . .close.”
“Right. Yeah. It looks like it.” Perry surveys the room and sighs, but he’s overreacting. My living room may look like an outdoor outfitter threw up all over my furniture, but I know where everything is, and I know exactly where it’s going to go when I stash it all in my pack. I’m only waiting to finish packing because I just cleaned my tent, and it’s still in the backyard drying off.
And also because Kate Fletcher just sent me a text message.
“What’s up with you?” Perry asks as he discards his pack and drops into the chair by the window. “You look all weird and stressed and stuff.” He pulls out his phone and reclines into the chair like he expects to be waiting a while.
“I, um, I just got a weird text, and it threw me off.”
“Aww, did Taylor Swift finally respond to all the messages you’ve sent her fan club?”
I grab the bundled merino wool socks sitting on the arm of the couch and chuck them at his head.
He deflects the socks without even cracking a smile.
“Honestly, hearing directly from Taylor Swift herself would be less surprising.”
Perry looks up, his expression morphing into actual concern.
“I got a message from Kate,” I say.
His eyes go wide. “High school Kate? Your Kate?”
I nod and lean forward, resting my head in my hands.
“What did she say?”
“Nothing. She said hi. Said it’s been a while.”
