Page 21 of Christmas with Brother's Best Friends
With a muffled grunt, I spill into my hand—heat and need and frustration all unraveling at once. It should feel like release.
But it doesn’t.
The second it’s over, I’m left with nothing but the weight of what I’ve done. My chest heaves. My skin’s too tight. My thoughts too loud.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
This isn’t just about attraction. I know her. I know who she is. She’s smart, ambitious, kind as hell—fighting for a future no one in her family seems to believe in. And I just… used her like a fantasy.
She’s not that. She’s more than that. And I crossed a line, even if it was only in my head.
The problem is, I don’t know if I can uncross it.
I wipe my hand with a tissue, zip my pants, and force myself to breathe. But I can’t shake the truth: something’s changed. I don’t just want her. I’m starting tofeelsomething for her. And that’s so much more dangerous.
Chapter ten
Chapter Ten: Emma
Ileave my apartment early the next morning.
But I don’t rush to work because Max and I agreed not to overwork ourselves. Instead, I cross the street before getting to the office, hurrying down the crosswalk in front of rows of cars. The cold journey and less hours of sleep are worth the end result, though.
Bright lights glow in my eyes as I stare up at a large Christmas tree in front of another towering office building. Large red ornaments and a star on top complement its dark green leaves, along with some snow on the branches.
I wish we had a tree in front of our building. Even if I’m not able to spend as much time as usual enjoying the festivities, I still love the holidays, especially in New York City.
Of course, things feel different now than they used to. I remember having snowball fights with my brothers and the guys in the front yard when school was canceled. I remember sitting on Andrew’s shoulders decorating the top of the tree and searching the house for our parents’ hiding spot for presents with Ethan.
There was so much magic and joy in each minute. All we had to do was have fun and enjoy our time.
Now, there is so much weight to everything. Stress. Pressure. Impatience.
I take a deep breath and set aside one minute to enjoy the Christmas tree and its glowing lights before they shut them off for the day.
But I don’t even get that one minute.
“Pretty cool, huh?”
I turn to see a man in a maroon suit standing next to me, his hands tucked in his pockets. His cologne hits me like a punch to the nose, making me cough. “Oh, yeah. It’s nice.”
“Spending the holidays alone?” he asks me as he turns toward me more, running a hand through his dirty blonde hair.
I tilt my head at him. “What makes you think that?”
He shrugs and gestures to me. “Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be all by yourself.”
I didn’t anticipate bad flirting to be the reason why my minute of peace was ruined, but here we are. “I’m going to work. You’re by yourself too.”
He chuckles and shifts closer to me, making my shoulders tense as I shy away. “Neither of us have to be alone. Where do you work? I’ll come pick you up for a drink when you’re finished.”
I screw my face up at him. Does that actually work on women? Then again, I don’t think any level of flirting will make me feel the way that the guys make me feel just by smiling at me. It’s almost kind of pathetic.
“Thanks, but I’m actually pretty busy.”
“Too busy for just one drink?” He takes another step closer, reaching out to brush my arm. I jerk away, stumbling back a step and bumping into a firm chest.
“There you are. We’ve been looking everywhere for you.” I spin around to see Josh standing firmly behind me, his grin cocky but his eyes scanning me like he’s checking for damage. He sweeps me into a tight hug, grounding me with that bold, possessive energy that always makes my breath catch. “You okay?” he murmurs close to my ear.Max reaches me next, slower, more deliberate. He doesn’t just drape his arm over my shoulders—he curls me in, brushing a kiss against my temple like I’m something soft and secret. It makes me want to melt further intohim. “Told you we shouldn’t have let her out of our sight,” he says, his voice low, like he means it more than he should.Ryan lingers at the back, silent. He doesn’t touch me—not at first. Just looks at the guy like he’s one wrong word from regretting his entire morning. But when I step closer to him, his hand finds the small of my back, firm and steady. “We won’t lose track of you again,” he says, dead serious. Typically, I’m not into men being possessive over me or deciding what’s best for me without my input, but something about his tone makes my adrenaline rush.
