Page 37 of My First Kiss

“Yeah, it’s a pain,” Ella says, making us laugh.

“It can be,” Harlow says, smiling. “But if you learn how to give it what it needs, it can be easy.”

Ella shifts to try and look at Harlow. “What does it need?”

Harlow points her finger for Ella to turn back around. She works the brush through Ella’s hair as she speaks. “Well, all hair is different. But usually, for curly hair, it needs a gentle touch and lots of moisture.”

“Like water?” Ella asks.

“Not just water,” Harlow says. “There’s more to hair than just washing it.”

I feel like an idiot as I listen to Harlow explain about the different types of curly hair to my daughter. I had no idea that I might need to do things differently for her hair than mine. Is this why we can’t ever seem to tame the frizz? I clearly need to talk to the expert if I’m ever going to get Ella to be happy and comfortable with her hair. It’s been an ongoing battle for the last year. By the time Harlow is finished brushing Ella’s hair, I can tell that Ella is on the verge of falling asleep in her lap. I need to get her into her bed before that happens.

“Hey sleepyhead,” I say, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder lightly. “Time for bed.”

She makes a half-hearted attempt at an argument, but it’s spoiled by the massive yawn that follows her grumbling. She reaches for me, and I scoop her into my arms and stand. Ella immediately lays her head on my shoulder.

“Say goodnight to Harlow,” I say, rubbing her back gently.

“Goodnight,” Ella murmurs.

“Goodnight, sweetie,” Harlow says with a smile.

“I’ll be right back,” I say in a low voice as I turn toward the stairs.

Ella is nearly asleep by the time I get her upstairs and into her bed. I tuck her in and make sure she has her favorite stuffed dinosaur in her arms.

“Goodnight, El,” I whisper. “Love you.”

“Love you, Daddy,” she says in a sleepy whisper.

Those words never fail to make my heart squeeze in my chest. I smile as I tiptoe out of the room, leaving the door open so the hallway light can filter in. I take a moment to think over the events of the evening. Had I ruined everything with what I’d said earlier? Harlow had been about to speak when Ella had surprised us with her appearance. What had she been about to say? Should I bring it up? It might be better if she does. Maybe I should see if she mentions it. Do I even want her to?

If she asks me why I know all those things about her, I don’t know that I’ll be able to lie to her. But I can’t just blurt out that I’ve had a crush on her since high school that I’m afraid never really went away. She’ll think I’m insane. Or a creepy stalker. No. I’ll just go back downstairs and pretend like nothing happened. That’s the best move.

Resolved, I make my way back downstairs. As I approach the living room, I hear talking. Then I hear Harlow’s soft laugh followed by my brother’s deeper one. I guess Cole is finished with the dishes. That’s probably a good thing. Harlow isn’t likely to bring up my outburst with my brother here. And I’m less likely to do something stupid, like tell her how beautiful she is and how much I’d like to kiss her. I plaster a smile on my face and enter the living room to see Cole sitting next to Harlow on the couch. He’s sitting awfully close to her. Much closer than I’d been sitting earlier. The smile threatens to turn to a scowl at the sight, but I manage to keep it in place.

“That was fast,” I say, making them both turn to look at me.

Grinning, Cole just nods, making no move to widen the distance between himself and Harlow. Harlow shifts to look at me.

“Your brother was just telling me a story about your college days,” she says, her voice teasing.

I shake my head. “Don’t believe anything he says. He’s a liar.”

Cole’s mouth drops open in mock outrage. “I’m not a liar. I just embellish a little.”

I roll my eyes. “The truth doesn’t need to be embellished.”

“Sure, it does,” he argues. “Otherwise, the stories are all the same.”

Harlow laughs. “Is it true you got stranded in a girl’s dorm without your pants?”

I turn to glare at Cole. “Really?”

He smiles back at me with a shrug. “What? It was hilarious.”

Harlow is looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to tell the story. I sigh. “Fine,” I say. “I’ll tell the story, but only because he lies.” I point at my brother.

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