Brian’s cheeks turn pink, and if that isn’t the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen I don’t know what is. “Three years ago, you came to Pittsburgh when Sophie was born. I was at Gabe and Molly’s when you got there. You were wearing black leggings and a bright pink sweater.” He reaches behind his neck, taking one of my hands and bringing it to his chest, covering it with his own and running his fingers over the bracelets on my wrist. “These bracelets. I thought you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, and I swear my heart stopped when I laid eyes on you. The entire world slowed down, and I didn’t know you, but it was like Iknewyou. I know you probably think this soundscrazy. It feels crazy. I had never felt anything like that before, and I haven’t felt anything like it since. Except every time I look at you.” His eyes bore into mine, begging me to understand. “I know this is complicated as fuck. You’re ten years younger than I am, your brother is my best friend, and you’re about to leave the country for six months, but I can’t seem to help myself.”
He drops his forehead to mine, and I swear my heart stutters. “We just kissed for the first time a week ago, and I was, like, two seconds from fucking you against the door of this office that doesn’t even belong to me. I lose my head around you,” he practically whispers, lifting my hand to his mouth to press a kiss to the back of it. “But this is important. You’re important. I want to do this right.”
I study him, my heart thrashing wildly in my chest at his confession but somehow feeling more settled than I ever have in my life. It’s an odd combination that somehow feels perfectly right. Bringing my free hand around, I brush his hair off his forehead and settle my hand on his cheek, stomach swooping when he leans into my touch. “So, let’s do it right.”
Brian’s eyes light up, and it’s like the sun beaming into the room. “Yeah?”
I smile, leaning forward and kissing his cheek. “Yeah. I can’t say I’ve pined away for you for three years the way you have for me.” I wink at him, and he snorts out a laugh. “But I can’t deny that this feels pretty damn good.”
Brian leans in and kisses me, slow and deep, and it feels like the start of something. A beginning. “It does, doesn’t it?”
I nod. “It does. Gabe’s not the boss of me, and as for Italy…” I shrug. “It’s six months, not forever, and I don’t leave for another three weeks. We can cross that bridge when we get there. If we get there,” I say quickly.
Brian smiles, kissing me again. “We’ll get there.”
Butterflies explode in my stomach at the certainty in his tone. “What makes you so sure?”
His smile spreads as he takes my face in both of his hands, stroking my cheekbones with his thumbs. “Because nothing in the world has ever felt as right as this.”
With his lips back on mine and our bodies pressed tightly together, I can’t help but think that I completely agree, and even though I don’t know exactly where that leaves us, for the time being, it feels like we’re right where we’re supposed to be.
CHAPTER SIX
OLIVIA
“Holy shit, you can really skate,” Brian says, coming up behind me and catching me around the waist. The Schenley Park ice rink is crowded for a Tuesday night. Stars wink in the wide expanse of sky above us, and twinkle lights wrap around the rink, giving the space an ethereal glow. Christmas music plays over the rink speakers, and the whole atmosphere is holiday perfection.
Also perfection? The man slowly circling the rink with his arms wrapped around me from behind, dipping his head to talk, his warm breath skating over my skin. I spin in his arms, skating backwards so I can look at him. He’s wearing a navy-blue, hip-length puffy coat and jeans that do amazing things to his ass. His hair is covered by a gray beanie, and his cheeks are pink from the cold. He is the most gorgeous man I have ever known, and my heart literally skips a beat. “One of my best things.”
Letting go of me, he takes one of my hands so we’re skating side-by-side. “Did you learn to skate in San Francisco?”
I tip my head up, letting the cold air brush over my face as we circle the rink. “I did. I was, like, the textbook definition of a youngest child. When I was five, I decided that all I wanted in life was to learn how to skate even though we lived somewhere where the temperature never went below forty degrees. Between Gabe and Amelia and all the smart kid extra-curricular activities they did, my parents were always pulled in a million different directions, but they fit in skating for me because I wanted it so badly. It was like they knew they wouldn’t be around for long and tried to fit a lifetime of fun into those years.”
I take a deep breath, blinking away the burn in my eyes, swallowing hard against the ball of emotion that lodges in my throat at the memories of my parents. “Sorry,” I say quietly. “I haven’t talked about this in a long time.”
As we pass the entrance to the rink, Brian slows down without a word, leading me gently off the ice and towards the empty bench where we stashed our shoes. Sitting and pulling me down next to him, he takes both of my hands in his. “Don’t apologize. Not for this. Never for this.” Letting go of one of my hands, he strokes his knuckles down my cheek. “You can tell me anything. I want to know everything about you.”
Leaning into his touch, I close my eyes for a second, letting the warmth of his palm settle me. “My mom took me to skating lessons every week for years. She would sit in the bleachers and watch me, and then afterwards we would get hot chocolate and talk. When my parents died, I thought maybe that would be it for skating for me. Even at eight, I knew Gabe was drowning. He lost my parents and then the love of his life when he broke up with Molly, and overnight, he became a parent to Ames and me. I know it was a lot, but he never stopped my skating lessons. And then when I didn’t need lessons anymore, he took me to free skate on the weekends, sitting on the bleachers to watch like my mom did and getting me hot chocolate afterwards. By that point,his company had exploded, and he was the most famous tech founder in northern California, so going out in public wasn’t the easiest thing, but until I got my license and could drive myself, he never missed a week.” I pause, blowing out a breath, feeling lighter at sharing this with someone. With him. “Anyway, that’s how I know how to skate.”
Brian smiles, leaning in and pressing his lips to mine. “Those are really good memories.”
His tone has a touch of melancholy to it that makes my heart clench. “Why does that make you sad?”
He shrugs, looking away for a second, almost like he’s uncomfortable. “It’s complicated.”
“I don’t mind complicated.” I stroke my thumbs over his palms, and when I see a snowflake land on the arm of my jacket, I tip my head up to the sky, laughing as the first flurries fall. “It’s a sign,” I murmur.
“What is?”
I smile at him. “The snow. Magic, remember? Tell me a secret while the snow falls, Bry. I promise I’ll keep it safe.”
My words—the same ones I used that first night in his apartment—have his face softening, his eyes filling with an emotion that makes my stomach shimmer. I get the sense that Brian keeps a piece of himself walled off from even the people closest to him. So, the fact that he wants to share with me feels monumental.
“I had the kind of childhood every kid dreams of,” he starts, his voice a little raw, like the memories are painful to access. I tighten my hands around his as he keeps speaking. “Parents who loved each other and loved me. Family vacations, a beach house in Delaware, summer camps, the best schools, and everything I ever could have wanted. Then, when I was twenty-eight, my dad died, and I realized everything I knew was wrong.”
I know some of this already—the way he found out about Jeremy being his brother isn’t a secret in their group of friends—but the way he talks makes me feel like he needs to purge something. Like saying these words is cathartic for him, so I stay quiet, waiting for him to continue.
“A few weeks after his funeral, I found a file in his office full of information on Jeremy. It basically documented Jeremy’s entire life from the time he was born, including how he grew up in the system, in and out of foster homes his entire childhood. At first, I didn’t understand what I was looking at, but, well, Jeremy and I look a lot alike and we both look like him.” He shakes his head. “My dad. Our dad. Long before I was born, my dad had an affair, and the woman got pregnant. My parents worked it out, and my dad walked away from her. Walked away from his child. Jeremy. My mom knew about the affair but never about Jeremy. My dad pretended he didn’t exist, even though he knew Jeremy was growing up all alone after his mom died. He left Jeremy in the goddamn foster system to keep the Simpson family image pristine. So no one would find out he fucked around on my mom. God.” He forces out the word, blowing out a breath as his hands tighten on mine. “It’s been years and I’m still so fucking mad at him.”
