Page 73 of Brittle Heart

“Wait, I’ll walk you,” Josh says, placing his empty plate on the kitchen island before hurrying after her.

“Your brother has a major crush on that girl,” Susanne chuckles to Sophia, who grins in response.

“I know, and I support it one hundred percent.”

Why do I feel sick all of a sudden?

“Come on, love.” Xander’s warm hand rests on my back, gently urging me forward. He grabs one of the champagne bottles from the ice cooler in the kitchen. “I promised to lick you everywhere, and I think I’ll start by licking champagne out of your belly button.”

* * *

Josh

Carolina’s eyes fix on the pictures adorning the hallway walls as she pulls on her backpack. “You guys have known each other for a long time,” she comments.

“We sure have,” I say.

She reaches up and lightly touches a picture where Xander, Clay, and I are around five years old. Sophia, who must have been about eight at the time, stands behind us, her arms wrapped tightly around us, almost crushing us in her embrace.

Her gaze then shifts to a graduation picture I took of Clay and Xander, with Clay’s mother standing between them, wearing a wide grin and the yellow headscarf she loved so much. It was a difficult day for her, right after one of her chemotherapy treatments.

Carolina continues to scan the other pictures on the wall, her gaze flicking toward the jackets and shoes hanging on the rack near the entryway. “Do you guys live here too?”

Does she think this is Sophia’s place?

“Too?” I furrow my brows. “This is our side of the house. Sophia’s place is next door. We just have a bigger kitchen for gatherings like this. Didn’t she tell you?”

She shakes her head. “You don’t have to walk me. I’ll be fine.”

As she opens the door to leave, I quickly grab my jacket and beanie, managing to reach the door before it shuts behind her.

I almost slip and stumble down the porch steps while she’s already a few steps down the street, so I hurry to catch up with her. “You’re pretty fast for someone with such short legs,” I say.

“Or maybe you’re just clumsy,” she points out, and I chuckle.

She’s not wrong.

“Do you like snow?” I ask, watching how she holds her bare hands out, trying to catch some snowflakes that instantly melt upon contact.

“I do. I like the cold. It’s calming,” she says.

A thick layer of snow is already on the ground, causing our footsteps to make that familiar crunching sound as we walk along the sidewalk. The falling snowflakes are big, and I stand still, looking up and sticking out my tongue to catch some of them. The cold sensation on my tongue makes me laugh.

When I glance back down at her, I notice her giving me a curious look. “What? Never eaten snowflakes before? You have to try it, it’s awesome!”

She looks down at the ground, fiddling with the straps of her backpack, and my smile falters.

Please tell me she’s not thinking I’m a complete idiot.

But then, she smiles to herself, lifts her head, and closes her eyes. She opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue.

I watch, fascinated, as snowflakes land on her face, adorning her nose, eyelashes, and tongue.

God, she’s beautiful.

She laughs now too, and my heart skips a beat. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard her laugh out loud. When her golden eyes meet mine again, there’s a mischievous glimmer dancing within them.

I could get lost in those eyes.

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