Page 46 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
I laugh and shake my head.
He eyes me, his expression curious. “Where did that come from?”
I press my hands to my cheeks. “I don’t even know. I guess I’m trying to make sure it’s still you.”
He closes up his to-go container and carries it to the kitchen trashcan. “I’m not following.”
“I don’t want to seem like I’m beating a dead horse here, I’m still having a hard time imagining high school Brody doing something like whitewater kayaking the Green River narrows.”
He leans against the counter and crosses his arms. “Whatcanyou imagine high school Brody doing?”
“Calculus,” I say without missing a beat. “Maybe some chemistry? And of course, all the work on the farm. But even then, you were always trying tosciencethe work, looking for ways to make things more efficient.” I stand up and throw away my lunch trash. The kitchen isn’t very wide, so when I lean on the counter across from him, our feet are almost touching.
“That’s all true. But then you left.” He reaches out and nudges my foot with the toe of his shoe, his hands pushed into his pockets. There’s a vulnerability to the way he’s holding himself, his eyes focused on our feet. Finally, he looks up. “Funny thing. You leaving is actually what made me decide I wanted to run the narrows in the first place.”
A new tightness squeezes around my heart. “Why?”
He shrugs. “You were so brave, Kate. Eighteen years old, and you packed your bags and took off like you owned the world. You weren’t afraid of anything. I was hiking along the river with Flint one afternoon a couple weeks after you left, not far from Gorilla, actually. Five or six kayakers came through while we watched, and I thought to myself,I want to do that.I wanted to do something different, something scary. And whitewater kayaking looked scary.”
I shake my head. “So then you just . . . did it?”
He chuckles. “Not exactly. I told Flint what I was thinking, and he told me I was crazy and would probably get myself killed. But something happened out on that hike, and I couldn’t forget it. So I called Triple Mountain and signed up for a beginner course.”
“And now you work for them?”
He nods. “I didn’t do anything but Class I or II rapids that first summer, but that was all it took to get me hooked. Every summer since, and whenever else I can swing it, I’ve been on the water.”
“All because of me?” I tease. I nudge his toe back. “I always worried you didn’t think about me at all when I was gone.” I wrap my arms around my middle, willing myself to push through the vulnerability and be honest. “Then after that last time, after I ignored you for so long, I hoped you didn’t. I didn’t think I deserved it.”
He holds my gaze a long moment, then extends his hand, palm up. Without even thinking, I slip my hand into his and let him tug me across the kitchen and into his arms. His hug is warm and strong, and I melt against his chest as his arms wrap fully around my lower back.
It could be a hug between friends.
Itisa hug between friends. But my senses are on high alert anyway, cataloging every single detail. All the places our bodies touch, the way they’re sparking with heat.
(Is he also sparking? Is the sparkiness only happening inside of me?)
Then there’s how good he smells. Howstronghe feels. I have never enjoyed a hug like I am enjoying this hug.
“I thought about you every day, Kate,” he says softly into my hair. “I never stopped thinking about you.”
Oh.
Oh,that confession is doing strange things to my heart. I close my eyes and bite my lip, imagining for the tiniest moment what it would be like to look up, to catch Brody’s gaze and press my lips against his.
But then he shifts, standing fully upright, his hands on my arms as he bodily moves me back across the kitchen. He clearshis throat and looks away, taking a giant step away from me. He’s further away now than he wasbeforethe hug.
That was...I only just stop myself from leaning down and sniffing my armpits. Maybe I smell bad? I’ve been digging around in closets all morning. I could absolutely smell like mothballs and old people. Or maybe he felt mesparking and realized he was giving me the wrong impression? But then, he did say he never stopped thinking about me.
I am . . . so confused. “Urrb.” And also tongue-tied, apparently.
“I should go,” Brody says at the exact moment I say, “Thanks for lunch.”
“No problem,” he says while I say, “Right. Of course.”
We both laugh, and it dispels a tiny bit of the tension hovering between us. Except, why is there tension between us? There hasneverbeen tension between us.
“I found a KitchenAid hand mixer,” I blurt out. “Still in the box. It’s never been used.”
