How My Brother's Best Friend Stole Christmas - Molly O'Keefe Page 0,7
the love of my life.
Only to find Sam standing next to me.
“Jesus,” I shouted and dropped the glass. Which he caught—because of course he did—and set with a quiet click on the bar. “Sam, you can’t sneak up on a person.”
“A second ago you were staring at me.”
“Well, I was just wondering who the guy was who didn’t get the memo about the dress code.”
“This was all I had,” he said. Which wasn’t true. I’d seen him in his dress blues with the sword and everything. But he was making a point that I should shut up about his clothes.
“I’m surprised you came,” I said, shifting my body just slightly away from his because I could feel the heat from him. I could feel the iron strength of his arm beneath the too-big sleeve of his shirt. And it was distracting. And I didn’t want to be distracted from telling him how much I wanted to see him without that shirt.
Yeah. It didn’t make much sense to me, either, but that was the effect he had on me. He turned me upside down just being in the room.
“I love a party,” he said with a tilt of his lip—the illusion of a smile. I gave him my whole smile in return. Which was how the scales balanced between us. He gave me nearly nothing and I gave him everything I had.
“Me too,” I lied, the same way he’d just lied to me, and when our eyes met, a certain kind of understanding blazed in the space between us. I know you. And you know me. And I’ve never felt this way, ever. And I don’t know how to live if you don’t feel the same way.
“We could leave,” Sam said. “Go back to your place. Kill some dragons. Steal some scrolls.”
“My brother would kill us.”
“You missed the announcement.”
“He really did it, huh?”
“He really did.”
“Were you…there? Like…at the ceremony?”
“No, Soph. He didn’t have anyone there.” It was in his tone of voice, he knew what I was asking and why.
“Do you think it’s real?” I asked.
Sam grunted. And in the Sam Porter translation app that I had built and refined over years of knowing him, I knew that what he meant was, We’ll see and I doubt it and sometimes you’re right about people but I’m not going to admit that at this moment and I’m just worried about my best friend who has been acting like a mad man since taking over the company.
I poked him in his rock-hard side and he jerked back, smiling.
“Jesus, kid. I don’t know what to think.”
The kid stung. Not gonna lie.
“What a liar you are,” I said, laughing at him. “He’s always told you more than he’s told me. Not that I’m bothered.”
“You are so bothered.”
“I am! Why does he do that?”
“He’s asked us to trust him. Let’s just…do that.”
“I like Penelope,” I said. With a sudden pang, thinking about that conversation we’d had, I wished I’d cut her a break earlier. Wished I could take back some of the things I’d said. Thought, even.
“Food’s good. Have you had any?” he asked, and I smiled at his predictable change of topic.
“Not yet.”
“There’s a crab thing you’ll love. But they go fast.”
“I’m not hungry,” I said, and he looked at me sideways. Because I was always hungry. Around him I put food in my mouth so I had something to do with my hands. Something to keep me from saying the words I was so scared of saying to him.
“There’s a chocolate fountain.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. In the corner. You can dip all kinds of stuff in it. There’s pretzels.”
Sweet and salty, another one of my favorites. How well he knew me was a bruise he kept poking.
And it had not escaped my notice that we’d been standing here, chatting and looking at each other and breathing the same air, and he hadn’t said a single word about how I looked. I glanced down just to make sure I was still wearing a tight, sparkly blue dress.
Yep.
So, should I say something? Like my dress? Notice anything different about me? It felt silly. Needy.
“You enjoy your time with the glassblowers?”
“Is that what they are?”
“Indeed.”
Had I ever said indeed before? Never. This thong was cutting off all the blood to my brain.
“This is quite a party Wes is throwing,” he said. “He trying to convince everyone the company isn’t bankrupt? Or is it to impress Penny?”
“Both.” I shrugged. He took a sip from his bottle of beer.
“Have you talked to