Page 47 of Butter My Biscuit

“When you stop talking, I’ll end the call. Just like when we were teenagers.”

“Okay,” I whisper, remembering when we’d stay up all night, talking, and then fall asleep on the phone together. Usually, I’d be the first to snooze because his voice is smooth, like honey. “I like listening to you breathe.”

“Like this?” He makes the Darth Vader sound effects. “Luke, I am your father.”

“Exactly.” I place him on speaker and put my phone next to my pillow as I pull the blankets over my shoulders. “Harrison?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me a bedtime story. Like old times.”

“Okay.” He chuckles. “In a land far, far away, there was a beautiful princess …”

“And she just wanted to be somebody’s someone.”

* * *

“How was your trip?” Kinsley leans over my desk, twirling her brown hair in her finger.

“It was fine.”

She’s sipping on a large coffee that she got from the coffee shop on the corner. It smells like sugar and spice and everything nice.

“Where’s mine?” I immediately smile.

A few months ago, I was hired as the front-desk clerk at the newspaper. It’s a fancy way of calling me a receptionist. This job is a stepping stone for me while I work on my wedding planning business. It’s not somewhere I’ll work forever.

“You can have this one,” she offers, and even though her lips are pink, there isn’t a smudge on the lid. “So, zero updates?”

“Zero.”

I log in to my computer and flip my planner to December. Just a few weeks ago, I was asked to help Kinsley sort through all of the entries for her weekly Q&A column. The two of us have a lot of work to do before Christmas to get ready for the launch in the first week of January. Kinsley is the only reason this job is tolerable. She at least makes it fun.

“So, Houston was justfine?”

She patiently waits for me to give her more information, but I don’t feel like talking about it. Honestly, if I could snap my fingers and erase Joey from my life, I would.

“Yep.” I meet her eyes. I told her how excited I was to see Joey. It was all I talked about since Halloween. “Do you know something you shouldn’t know?”

“Nope,” she says. “Did youdosomething I should know about?”

“Absolutely not.”

She snaps, and her shoulders fall. “Damn. Was hoping you and my brother finally got over your shit. Guess there won’t be a Christmas miracle where you two admit your feelings.”

“I know you’re just trying to give me a hard time out of habit, but it’s not happening, Kins. We’re really just friends.”

She glares at me.

“Oh, I was reminded about the Harrison Valentine Kiss of Death.”

She snorts. “He’s notstillcalling it that.”

“You know about that?” I give her a puzzled look.

“Everyone does. It’s why so many women areobsessedwith him. Out of all people, I thought you’d know about the curse.”

“Totally forgot about it until then.”

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