by Anthology
"Open mine first." Briley shoves a box into my lap and plops herself down next to me. The package is wrapped in red and green plaid paper with an intricate red bow on top. I’m careful not to tear into it, purposefully moving slow to torment her. She’s always been impatient, tearing into her packages, and it drives her nuts when others don’t do the same. With a groan she reaches across my lap and jerks the bow off in one swift motion. "Hurry up, grandma."
"I thought I’d iron the paper and reuse it next year," I joke. "Don’t rush me." I plant my elbow into her side and give her a gentle push before tearing into the paper and lifting the lid off the box. I’m eager to see what’s inside, because she gets me and always delivers the perfect gift. I know her, too, but I’m a terrible gift giver. Except this year. Nailed it.
Inside the box is a stack of vinyl records and I stare at them for a moment. I started collecting vinyl last year and had a list of ones I really wanted to find but couldn’t. But here they all were. How? "Where did you find these?" I flip through and see Lynard Skynyrd, The Beetles, and The Eagles. "These are all on my list."
"I know." She shrugs a shoulder like it’s no big deal. "I’ve got stealthy moves, Coop. You should know that by now."
"Yeah, yeah," I chuckle. "The CIA will be recruiting you any day now." My head shakes in disbelief, the smile on my lips refusing to retreat. For the second time, I flip each album over, studying the back and front. I know how hard it must have been for her to find these and I’m touched. If I didn’t have a mad crush on her, I might even get choked up. I steal a glance in her direction. Her hands are clasped under her chin while a wide smile is stretches across her sweet lips. Those eyes—dark brown orbs that cast wicked spells on me. I wonder when things will change between us. I know she’ll be mine one day, I just need her to figure it out and get on board.
My thoughts are interrupted when she rests her head on my shoulder. "This is my favorite part of Christmas."
"Which part?"
She takes a deep breath and exhales a relaxed sigh. "Watching your expression when you have something you love."
I’m taken aback and I feel my body stiffen, wondering if she’s finally getting it. It’s you. You have to feel it. You must know? I want to take her by the shoulders, look into her eyes, and tell her, but it didn’t work out too well for me last time. Instead, I lean my head over to rest on hers. "Thanks, B. Perfect gift."
She tucks a long strand of her dark brown hair behind her ear and rubs her hands together. "Okay, now where’s mine?" She springs to her feet and hops over to the packages I set down when I arrived.
I just laugh because she’s so damn adorable. "The small one’s for your mom."
Her eyes light up, but I’m sure they would over either package. Carrying the bigger package over, she sits down next to me and looks it over. Now she decides to be patient?
"Sorry, bum wrap job." I shrug, not sure why I’m stating the obvious. I’ve never liked the process of wrapping.
"It looks great." She pulls on the tape and rips into the paper. "Got a little excited with the tape, didn’t you?" Inside is a large stocking, bulky with the goodies I’ve filled it with, and her name glitter-glued to the front. "Did you craft for me?" she drawls and adds a smirk.
"Hell no. I’ve still got my man card." My eyebrows knit together and I lean away from her insult. "One of Ryan’s girlfriend’s did it for me." As soon as the words leave my lips, I know it sounds shitty and hope she isn’t offended by a random girl helping with her present. I try to recover. "I picked out the stocking, though. All she did was write your name for me. Wait ‘til you see what’s inside."
Briley lifts the stocking out of the box, sets it in her lap, and tosses the box aside. "What’s in here?"
I shrug, feeling like the delivery guy on Christmas Vacation. "Open it up and see."
Stockings have always been her absolute favorite part of Christmas. I don’t get it, but she gets silly excited about hand lotions and nail polish when they’re stuffed in her monogrammed stocking over the fireplace. So I combined her gift and stocking this year, purposefully layering the items for her to pull out. On the top I put chapstick and candies, in the middle are things like lotions and gift cards, and the main gift is on the bottom.
"This is so exciting." She wiggles, pulling each item out like it’s the finest gift she’s ever received. "You can paint my toes," she informs me, grinning mischievously as she holds up the bottle of blue polish.
I make a face. "I don’t think that would be fun for either of us." A man has to draw the line at polish.
With a laugh, she pulls out the next item, a movie theater gift card. "Ooh, I’ve been dying to see that space movie. What’s it called?" Tossing it aside, she immediately yanks out the next gift card. "Ah, we can go to dinner first, then the movies." Her eyes get even wider with excitement.
I give her a warm smile and push her hair behind her shoulder so I can see her face. "You don’t have to take me. These things are for you."
"Who else would I want to go with?" She looks at me like I’ve grown another set of eyeballs and keeps digging through the stocking until she pulls out one of the main gifts. I’m nervous, hoping she likes it. Fuck, it’s fifth grade all over again.
Silence.
Her jaw is slack as she studies it, still not saying a word. Finally, her expression changes, but it looks sad. I have a gut-sinking feeling that I’ve missed something. I’m not sure what I’ve done wrong, but I want to take it out of her hands and tell her I’ve made a mistake, that it was meant for someone else.
"Oh my God, Coop," she whispers. "It’s too much."
"Nah. It’s really not," I insist, trying not to panic. "Seriously, I stayed within our limit." I’m actually setting myself up for every future Christmas, giving her this charm bracelet. Now I can add a charm every year from the places she travels or dreams of going one day. I nod toward the stocking. "There’s something still in there, though. I worked really hard to get it for you. Us, actually."
She cocks her head as she looks at me, curious about what’s in there or maybe about my meaning of us. Reaching in, she feels around and pulls out the prize, taking time to read the words on the tickets.
"How did you get these? It’s sold out." Her eyes are wide with disbelief, and it’s totally worth the trouble I went through.
I huff out a heavy sigh. "Sold my soul to the devil. They better be worth it."
"Seriously, Coop. Foo Fighters? How?"
"A friend of a friend of a friend of Ryan’s." My words spill out in an exhausted pattern as I pretend it was a really big deal. Maybe it will soften the blow of disappointment I have to deliver. "I made a few promises and paid too much for them, but I’m excited. You know I’m going with you, right?" We’ve loved this band forever, and since I learned to play "Everlong," she makes me break out the guitar and play it at least once a week. I’m definitely accompanying her.
"Of course you are!" she squeals.
She throws herself in my lap, arms wrapped around my neck, and I can feel every curve of her body pressed against me, including her firm tits and sweet little ass. The entire house smells like pine and fresh baked cookies—until this moment, when my nose is buried in her hair. She smells clean and happy, if that’s a scent. It’s the only way to describe Briley Sheffield. Beautiful, clean, and happy. But the lack of strong floral perfume isn’t the only thing that separates her from all the other girls. There’s something about her—always has been—that pulls me in and makes me want to be around her, friend zone or not. She’s comfortable and unnerving at the same time, causing a constant state of pandemonium inside of me.
Scooting out of my lap, she adjusts her shirt, smoothing invisible wrinkles as if it would matter. There’s an uncomfortable blush to her cheeks, which piques my curiosity and has my heart feeling like it’s jacked up on Red Bull. Is she finally feeling something? Please, God.
"So, what’s the devil like?" she asks, throwing me even more off balance. All
I can do is stare at her, wondering if I’ve missed a whole conversation while taking in the smell and feel of the girl I’ve been crushing on for years. "You sold your soul . . . is he terrifying?" She holds her hands over her head like horns, wiggling her fingers.
We share an awkward laugh, which buys me some time to get my thoughts together. "Yeah, yeah, the horns are kinda cartoonish. It’s the eyes that haunt your dreams." I squint and give her my best evil face.
She just giggles and hangs the bracelet I got her over her wrist, reaching out for me to clasp it. As I’m latching it, I tell her my news, what I’ve been dreading telling her all evening. "I won’t be here for the New Year’s Eve party. The band’s been invited to play at Puckett’s."
I see the clear disappointment on her face, though she tries to hide it behind a shaky smile. "Really? That’s—wow, Coop, that’s amazing!"
Sweet Briley. She’s excited for me. It comes out in her words. But her face tells a different story. I’ve let her down.
Chapter Three
Cooper
It’s the same every night, staying up until I can’t keep my eyes open, hoping I’ll be too exhausted to dream of the girl I can’t have. Tonight is different, though, and I fall asleep worried instead of frustrated. Briley’s been in a funk, but she won’t tell me why. She’s not acting pissed over me ditching our annual New Year’s Eve plan, but she’s not spending every minute with me like we usually do, either. Normally I can read her like a book, but this time I can’t. Every time I call, she texts that damn auto response, Sorry, can’t talk right now. When she finally calls me back, she sounds neighborly and rushed.
I’ll get to the bottom of it in the morning. Right now, I need sleep. Tomorrow’s a big night for me and the guys, and I'm sure as hell not going to stay up all night worrying and risk ruining the event for everyone.
But just as my body relaxes and I’m taken to that glorious ‘almost there’ sleep state, I hear my window slide open. Briley is usually stealthy when she sneaks in. A few times I’ve woken up with her by my side, not even realizing she’d come in. But tonight she’s purposely making sure I wake up and acknowledge her presence. She’s knocked over my desk lamp, tripped on something in the floor, and her version of curse words are flying. "Garden seeds, that hurt! You live like a pig, Coop."
"B? Keep it down. Jesus!" I yell-whisper, jumping up to help her before she wakes my parents. Even though there’s nothing physical between us, both of our mothers would freak if they knew she sneaks in my window. Her mom won’t even let her close the door if the opposite sex is in the room. Friend zoned or not.
"Are you awake?" she asks as she falls into my arms.
"No, I’ve just got a badass hologram system."
She doesn’t laugh at my sarcasm. I guess she’s still pissed at me. "Can we talk?" She feels her way around the room until she reaches the bed and takes a seat.
"Yeah." Finally, we’re going to get this shit out of the way, and I can get a peaceful night’s sleep. I sit next to her on the bed, and we both start at the same time.
"Listen, B—"
"Coop, I’ve been thinking—"
"Go ahead." I nod in the darkness. Feeling her close to me right now stirs everything and wrecks all common sense for anything off-limits.
"It’s really hot in here." She pulls off her long sleeve shirt and tosses it to the floor. I’ve seen Briley in her bra before. I’ve seen her in her bikini, which covers even less. But the sight of her sitting on my bed, a thin layer of lace the only barrier between my greedy hands and her perfect tits, makes the blood rush instantly and my boxers do nothing to help me hide it. Fuck.
"I’ll open the window." Why the hell couldn’t we have snow, just this once? I need to cool off before I can face her again, so I pretend to study something outside. "What were you going to say?"
She doesn’t answer, but I can hear her shimmying out of her pajama pants. So much for easing my erection. I have no doubt her panties match the lace bra, and I'm sure my hard-on can’t be hidden or relieved without a trip to the bathroom. I wait for what sounds like Briley climbing under the covers before I feel safe enough to turn around, trying to recite the Periodic Table of Elements as a distraction. I hated Chemistry, and it’s not doing me any damn favors now either.
Briley’s on her back, on her side of the bed, so I climb in and rest my hands behind my head. "I’m sorry I’m bailing on you New Year’s Eve, but this is really important to us. You understand, right?"
She rolls over and rests her head on my chest, snuggling into my side. My right arm instinctively comes down, my hand ready to protect my secret boner.
"You think I’m mad?" She giggles. It’s the sweetest sound, but I can also smell the liquor on her breath. "I’m so proud of you, Coopy."
Fuck, I hate that nickname. Hate. It. "How much have you had to drink, B?"
"Not much." Her fingers begin swirling imaginary designs across my chest, and it’s hard not to enjoy it for a little longer, pretend we’re a couple. I’m not afraid to admit why I’m afraid to tell her how I feel. The last time I laid it out, I lost her for a while. Worst year of my existence. That—though it was eons ago—is enough to last me a while.
"Hey." Rolling to my side, I face her. "What did you drink?"
"Mom made that lemonade concoction. She made a bunch." She drags the word out, giving me a good idea about just how much she drank. "Her friends are so hoity-toity. You should’ve seen what Mrs. Parsons was wearing." She raises her hands in the air and looks at them like she’s discovering she has fingers for the first time. "I filled a CamelBak before hiding in my room to get away from them." That’s my Briley. I smirk in the darkness, shaking my head at the thought of her sitting in her room, drinking from her U of F Gators CamelBak. That’s a fucking huge container.
I have to sit up to get my head around how much she drank. I know too well about this lemonade concoction. It’s delicious and you have no idea you’ve drank too much until you’ve actually had too much. Who thought to mix vodka and champagne together and make it taste like a sweet, summer refresher?
No doubt she’s staying here tonight so I can watch over her. I also have no doubt about the sleep deprivation I’ll feel for tomorrow night’s gig. Hopefully I can sneak in a nap.
Briley sits up and snuggles into me again. I love the way it feels, the way she feels, but I also have a feeling she’s about to puke at any time. Before I settle in, I hop off the bed and grab my trash can, just in case, placing it next to my bed before climbing back in. Now I know the secret to getting rid of a hard-on—think about vomit. "How’re you feeling?"
"I feel amazing." She stretches her arms overhead before wrapping herself around me again. "You good?"
I nod, even though she probably doesn’t see it. "Think you can sleep? Do you feel sick?"
"I’m fine." She doesn’t sound fine; she sounds like she could go clubbing for the next four hours, and I prepare myself for her talkative side.
Easing myself down, I pull up the comforter and cover us both. Just when I’m ready for her to take her spot, settled into my side, she props herself up on an elbow. "Do you think I’m pretty?"
The question floors me. It’s so unexpected.
Briley exhales a heavy, disappointed sigh, and I barely make out what she whispers to herself. "Maybe Kyle Greer is the one for me after all."
Fuck-to-the-no for Kyle Greer! What does that douchebag have to do with anything? "Of course I think you’re pretty, B. What the hell kind of question is that? You know you’re gorgeous." My voice is clipped, and I regret the way it comes off as irritated and impatient.
"No, you know you’re gorgeous, Coop." She sits up again, and I wonder if I’ll be the first to get motion sickness even though I'm sober. "You’ve got girls following you around, throwing their panties at your feet. I’ve got a stupid rumor and my goddamn virginity."
Before I can answer, her lips crash into mine. It’s clumsy and desperate, but it feels like the best kiss I�
��ve ever had because they’re Briley’s lips.
"B," I manage as I force myself to pull back. My lips immediately miss hers. "That’s bullshit and you know it." I have too much to say, yet I’m speechless at the same time. All I can think about is kissing her, but she needs to know why I’m kissing her, why I want her. Not because she’s some girl, present in my room. But because she’s . . . everything.
"We’ve never lied to each other, Coop." Her voice is quiet, filled with unhappiness, and she’s pushing on her cuticles. "Please, best friends honor, tell me the truth now. What am I doing wrong?"
I’m in a state of panic as I watch the sadness on her face taking her down faster than I can pull her back up. At the same time I notice her lace-covered tits heaving with each breath. Taking my gaze off of them, I glance down only to see her flat stomach, the deep curve of her waist, and the hem of her lace panties resting against smooth flesh. Untouched flesh, which for some reason makes me want her more. To know that I could be the only man that ever touches her, would ever touch her, makes me realize I could easily give up every woman on the planet and be only hers.
Her shoulders shake once, bringing me back to reality. Tears pool and cling to her lashes.
Tucking my hand under her chin, I pull her closer to me, less than a whisper’s distance. "You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on," I begin. As each truth leaves my mouth, it’s as if a constricting vine has been clipped, freeing parts of me. "Smart, sexy, funny . . . and you’re doing everything right." She blinks a few times and a tear travels down her cheek. By the look on her face, she’s not convinced. "Do you hear me? Everything right."