Page 38 of That Time I Kissed My Brother’s Best Friend

But giving that bracelet back to Beau shattered my heart into ten million pieces. One for every minute I’ll spend away from him for the rest of my life.

Still, saying goodbye to him was the right thing to do. If not for me, then definitely for him. He doesn’t need me weighing down his future, and I don’t want him worrying about mine. It’s way past time I start believing in myself and reaching for my own potential. And I’m totally going to do the whole reach-for-my potential thing. Right after I dry my tears (again) and try to act thrilled about our pretend Christmas Eve.

As per my mother’s detailed instructions, we’re all supposed to forget it’s three in the afternoon. On the 5thof July. During a heat wave. Today is basically the opposite of a winter wonderland. I might’ve skipped all the proceedings, except Big Mama is finally feeling better. So the whole family is rallying and festive. Including me.

I’ve just gotten dressed in a bright-red wrap dress (hopefully distracting from my nose) when Brady knocks on my door and pokes his head in. I wave him inside. “Hey, sis.” His voice is uncharacteristically quiet. I take one look at his face, those brows knitted together, and fresh tears spring into my eyes.

“Merry Christmas Eve,” I choke out.

“You too,” he says. “But you’re gonna need to practice sounding merrier before you leave this room.”

I gulp and shift my weight. “Thanks for the tip.”

Brady’s mouth slips into a grim line. “So I think you should know, Beau stopped by my place about an hour ago. The poor guy looked even more wrecked than you do. I mean—not to say you look bad. You look great. Really … pretty.”

This makes me snort. A snotty snort. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“Anyway.” He rakes a hand across his forehead. “I’m really sorry, Kase. About last night. About everything.”

I grab a tissue to wipe my nose for the ten-millionth time. “Not your fault,” I sniffle.

“Well.” He clears his throat. “What happened after graduation was.Is. And I never apologized to you.” The crackle in his voice suggests he’s being sincere. “Saying I’m sorry to you would’ve meant admitting I did something wrong in the first place. And since you never ratted Beau and me out … well. I thought we got away with it.” He bobs his head. “So. This is me. Officially apologizing to you, Kase. Especially if any of that mess back then ruined things for you and Beau now.”

I toss the tissue on my dresser and throw myself at my brother. He hugs me back awkwardly—the kind where he’s mostly frozen, just patting my back.

“Thank you, Brady.” I sniffle into his shoulder.

“Hey. I’m not a Kleenex,” he mumbles. This makes me laugh for the first time in a while. And when I pull away, his eyes are misty. We both take a beat, then we make faces at each other—sticking our tongues out to switch back to our old familiar routines. “You all right?” he asks.

“Maybe.” I nod. Swallow. Nod. “Or at least I will be. I think. Either way, as of today, I’m owning my choices. The good and the bad. They’re on me now. Not on you. And certainly not on the you from when we were kids. Deal?”

His smile is shy, but he meets my gaze. “Deal. But for the record, I still think you and Beau could be great together.”

“Please, Brady.” My eyes are stinging again. “If you really want to help me, you won’t bring him up again.”

“Today?”

I sigh. “Ever. Not even to update me when he wins his own Pulitzer, okay?” My shoulders sink. “I’ll just assume Beauregard Slater ends up famous and happily married to somebody perfect. And that ending things with him was worth the sacrifice.”

“Fine.” Brady wrinkles his nose. “I promise never to talk about Beau again. After this one last time.” He steps out into the hall and returns with a large box. It’s covered in green paper and tied with red raffia. There’s a sprig of holly in the knot. The package is beautiful. “Beau asked me to give this to you.”

Despite the ache in my stomach, my lips curve up. Almost a smile. “That does not look like a Beau Slater wrap job.”

Brady chuckles. “It’s possible Natalie wrapped this for him. But the gift is definitely from Beau. He said you’d know what it meant.”

I groan. “You keep saying his name.”

“Are you going to open it, or not?”

“Not.”

The angle of my brother’s brow says he’s about to switch into debate mode, but my mother calls to us from the living room, interrupting. “Kids! Big Mama’s here. Come on down!”

I flash back to all the Christmas Eves from my childhood when my aunts and uncles would send the cousins down to our grandparents’ basement. While the grownups displayed the presents and got the living room holiday-ready, the ten kids would hunker down, waiting to be called upstairs together. Even though we knew what was coming—our yearly ornaments and matching Christmas pajamas—we still had so much fun.

Some of my favorite memories are of splitting into teams to play while our parents set up. Boys against girls. Elders against Littlers. Sometimes we’d break into four teams, one for each family. We’d play Charades or Twenty Questions. Truth or Dare. Dark Tag. Nobody much cared about winning, which was good because just when we’d be reaching the end of the game, Big Mama would come down to collect us.

Today she’s still recovering from her stomach bug, so instead of coming to us, she’s settled on the couch. Actually, it’s more like the couch is swallowing her. At most, Big Mama is five feet tall and ninety pounds soaking wet. But she’s definitely gotten into the Christmas-in-July spirit. She’s paired green corduroy slacks with a red turtleneck, and she’s got an angel halo stuck in her creampuff hair.

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