Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 36643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
“What are you doing here?” I demand, leveling my stepbrother with a hard glare, and not moving from the doorway to allow him inside despite the frigid weather. “I hear the Big Apple is glorious at Christmastime. Why are you slumming it here?”
His nostrils flare and his eyes flash angrily. Well, we can both be pissed off. I don’t care. He’s been too busy for holidays with our family for years now. Our little sisters barely even know him. My mom and his dad, Mike, have both been worried about him. Not me. I know he’s just being an asshole who’s gone on to bigger and better things.
“You going to let me in?” he asks, arching a dark eyebrow at me.
I’m reminded of a time when his room was across the hall from mine. He’d always grab hold of the top of the doorframe to my room and chat with me about school, whatever boyfriend I had at the time, movies, music. Eric was more than my stepbrother. He was my friend. But then he went off to college, and after that, he became this big-time finance guy amassing a fortune. All he had to do was sell his soul and turn his back on his family.
With a heavy sigh, I step out of the way. He’s come to me instead of our parents, so something must be up. I’m not even sure how he found this place considering he’s never even been here.
“Smells good in here,” he says as he shuts the door behind him. “You making something?”
Fond memories tickle at my mind. We’d make huge messes in the kitchen, especially at Christmas, making cakes and cookies. Mom encouraged it and Mike loved whatever treats we ended up with. It was fun to spend time with the older stepbrother I adored.
The happy thoughts are erased by sad ones that followed.
I get that he had to leave, but he didn’t have to blow us all off. I’m not sure I’ll ever get over that.
Still, concern tugs at my heart as I watch him take off his coat and set it on the back of one of the dining room chairs. He’s wearing a wrinkled dress shirt and slacks. The tie around his neck has been undone and hangs limply. Then, his green eyes dart my way, locking on mine, and I see the tension and fear burning in them.
Something’s wrong.
Unable to keep the anger as my shield, I step closer to him, frowning. “What’s wrong, Eric?”
He scrubs a palm over his face and sighs heavily. “Everything.” A laugh bubbles out of him and it’s bordering on hysterical. It’s so unlike him. Eric is usually confident, playful, relaxed. Tonight, he’s none of those things. He’s anxious, stressed, and maybe even sad.
I walk over to him and hug him. At first, it’s stiff. I’m still mad at being snubbed off and he’s being awkward. But then, as if he is finally able to drop his guard, he melts into my embrace, squeezing me so tight my breath is stolen from my lungs. His scent is familiar, despite the cologne he wears. Beneath the expensive scent is the smell of cinnamon and vanilla. It never made sense for him to smell like a cookie, but he always did. It’s just him.
“Can I ask you a huge favor even though I don’t deserve it?” he rasps out, voice filled with shame. “Can I stay for a few days until I can find my own place?”
I pull away from him to pin him with a concerned stare. “Under one condition.”
“What? Do your laundry?”
It’s a good idea since I hate laundry, but I shake my head. “No, you tell me why you’re here. Every detail. You don’t get to be vague with me.”
His jaw muscle ticks as he scowls. I expect him to argue because he does that sort of thing. Instead, he gives me a curt nod. “Yup.”
“Go get your stuff,” I tell him, shooing him away from me. “I’ll get some hot cocoa going.”
Ten minutes later and we’re both sitting on my couch, sipping our rich hot chocolate that’s crammed full of mini marshmallows. I love coffee as much as the next girl, but the hot cocoa is kind of me and Eric’s thing. It always cheered us up if one of us were having a bad day. As a bonus, I plated up a bunch of the red and green sugar cookies I made and set them on the table close by. It’s funny seeing him all cozy under a fuzzy blanket covered in red-nosed reindeer like he’s ten-years-old again when I first met him. Talk about blasting back to the past.
“So,” he says in a rush, “I fucked up. Bad.”
This has me nearly choking on my drink. Since when? Eric is an over-achiever. He excels in everything he does. It always made me feel sort of inferior. Where he made straight As, I made Bs and Cs. Eric went to college on a full academic scholarship and I went to tech school for massage therapy, seriously racking up school debt I’m still paying on. My stepbrother moved to New York City and lived in an apartment where the monthly rent likely costs more than what I pay in a year on my townhouse.