Page 35 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
I swallow. “I saw you naked,” I blurt. Why? Why did I blurt? It’s like my mouth is working faster than my brain.
There are more words brewing. They’re piling up on my tongue, and if Brody doesn’t say something fast, I will start spewing them out like a word-slinging woodchipper.
When I’m nervous, words start flying with reckless abandon. I know this about myself.
Side note: I also hate this about myself.
Fortunately, there isn’t much that makes me nervous these days. I’ve been too many places and seen too many things to get riled up easily. But I’m nervous now.
Brody’s cheeks flame red. “Geez, Kate. Way to state the obvious.”
“I’m sorry! I didn’t want it to be awkward.”
“Good call. This isn’t awkward at all.”
I press my hands to my cheeks. “Brody, I didn’t see anything.”
He raises an eyebrow. “I don’t know how that’s possible.”
“I mean, I saw things. But your arm was blocking my view. I didn’t see...themainthing.”
He barks out a laugh. “The main thing? This keeps getting better and better. Please, let’s keep going.”
Oh geez.I just called histhinga thing. I am twelve years old. Also, I’m going to die of embarrassment. Right now. Right here in Brody’s living room. I drop onto the chair beside his bookshelf and press my hands over my face.
And then I start to laugh. Huge, body-heaving laughter. Tears streaming down my cheeks.
“You think this is funny?”
I peek my fingers open to see him standing across from me, his hands propped on his hips. His expression is stern, but his eyes are dancing. He’s not truly angry. “Honestly, Brody, what else can I do but laugh?”
He moves to his couch and sinks into it. “You could have not looked, for starters,” he says with a teasing grin. He props his feet up on his coffee table, and I’m momentarily distracted by his bare feet. I don’t have a foot fetish. But the easy way he relaxes into his furniture, he just seems so...comfortable. Like he’s really at home here. Which, duh. This is his house. He would be. But I’ve never seen him in it, which makes me realize how much I’ve missed.
“When I was little and couldn’t sleep, I would call my dad and he would always say, ‘Whatever you do, don’t think about polar bears.’ Of course, then all I could do was think about polar bears. When you said not to look, I couldn’t help it. It was like a reflex.”
“I’m not actually sure we can still be friends, Kate. At least not friends who look each other in the eye.”
“Oh, shut up. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You know you look good.”
“I . . . know no such thing.”
“Whatever. Maybe you don’t dwell on it like a lot of guys do, but you have eyeballs in your head. And I’m sure you notice women enjoying the view.”
He smirks. “Did you?”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You ‘glowed up,’ and we’re all proud of you for the time in the gym and the scruffy facial hair. It’s all very manly and impressive.”
I stand and move to the couch and drop onto the side opposite him.
“You’ve been talking to Olivia,” he says as he shifts to face me. “That’s her term.”
“Yeah. I took Kristyn up to Stonebrook before she left town. We saw Olivia and your mom. And Lennox too, actually. He made us lunch.”
He runs a hand across his almost beard, scratching at it before letting his hand drop back into his lap. “I bet Mom loved that.”
I smile. “It was good to see her. And yes, Oliviadidask me what I thought of you. Of your transformation.”
It’s his turn to roll his eyes. “She’s always calling it that. But I’m still me. I’m still the same guy.”
