“You look…” He glances from me to Kaidan at the bar. He grits his teeth and struggles through the next words. “You look incredible.”
Is it painful for him to say it or has he swallowed a lump of coal?
“Thanks? You, too.”
And he does. He’s fit in a gingerbread-colored turtleneck, tan trousers, and a matching jacket. His hair is feathered, and his stubble is neatly trimmed. I always like how bright copper his beard is compared to the dark brassiness of the rest of his hair.
I continue, not holding back, “You’re like a star at the top of a Christmas tree.”
He doesn’t struggle with his next words as he leans in close, “Only if you’re one of the presents under my tree.” His hand brushes my hip to keep me in place as he speaks.
Briar leans in more, speaking to the bartender behind me, ordering two eggnogs with a double shot.
“Merry Christmas, Jojo,” he cheers me, handing me one of the eggnogs he’s ordered.
I parrot it back and take a deep drink, shivering at the coolness of the eggnog and the burning of the bourbon.
We join my family on the other side of the bar to let the annual Greenhorn Christmas party truly begin.
The more time Mom dotes on Kaidan’s date, the more I drink. The more often Briar looks my way, I drink.
But the more I drink, the less I care about Briar’s age for me. The more I drink, the more I forget he’s my brother’s best friend.
He’s an adult. And my brother’s an adult.
But am I adult enough to make my move?
* * *
Briar
I’m not a heavy drinker. Not anymore. Ever since taking over my dad’s business, I learned it isn’t the smartest move. It took me just one hungover weekend to realize that. It did mean less nights of Jordan picking our drunk asses up after taking a night too far, but I’ve since found other ways of seeing her. I’m not sure what I’ll do if Kaidan moves out of his parents’ home and my excuse for stopping by disappears.
At least there will always be the amazing Greenhorn holiday parties. They truly make you feel like part of the family.
I sip my beer slowly, eyeing Jordan as she digs through her purse. She’s been adamantly looking for something for five minutes and I’ve been debating the whole time if I should help her. But it’s been too cute to interrupt with her blowing hair out of her face, cursing quietly, darting her eyes around every few moments to see if anyone is watching her. She manages to produce her keys with a shout of joy and jingles them as if they were bells granting angels wings.
What are you doing with those?
I set my beer down, as she threads herself through the throngs of people in the merry pub.
The beer in my stomach thickens to lead as Jordan commits to an Irish Good-Bye—ducking out without saying adieu—and she slips out the front door. She can’t actually think of leaving now, not in her state.
I abandon the party quickly, muttering apologies as I’m forced to push people aside to get to the front of the pub.
Jordan is belting out “Last Christmas” as she crosses the street. It’s cute until I see headlights coming down the street and Jordan not hustling out of the way.
My heart takes out on a sprint toward her and my feet follow. I ram my body into Jordan, wrapping my arms around her and moving both of us together. I need to get her out of the street, not tackle her to the cold pavement. She yelps in surprise, panting as I press her into the nearest car, my body up against her. A cold splash of slush hits my back as the car drives past with a blaring honk as if they couldn’t have slowed down or gotten out of the way. The cold doesn't bother me, not when all I can focus on is the warm and soft feel of Jordan against me.
She clings to my chest, and my grip tightens around her waist, both of us panting with the spike of adrenaline. Her blue eyes are wide and glossy, lips parted for small, labored breaths.
I break the silence. “What the hell were you doing?”
Her brow furrows and a pout takes over her full lips. “Going home until you crashed into me.”
Her speech, not to mention her breath, tell me that she’s not in any shape to drive. Part of me remembers back to all those times she saved me and Kaidan.
“Rather me than a car, Jojo.” I brush a wisp of brown hair out of her face, wetting the seam of my lips.