24. OLIVIA

CHAPTER 24

OLIVIA

" B rookie, just how much coffee have you had today?" I ask as we walk up the steps to my childhood home. We stop by the front door and because no one in my family is the snoop I am, it's okay to have a little chat here.

My former best friend turned friend that I wish would turn into my boyfriend rolls his shoulders—not against the cold, but like he's about to throw down against an opponent's enforcer. He even shakes his hands wildly.

"It's not caffeine, it's nerves."

My eyebrows would shoot to the sky if they could. "Um, why?"

He lifts those brilliant green eyes of his, which today match his beanie. "You're kidding, right?"

Our breaths blow puffs that almost look like clear cotton candy. We're technically still in the fall, but we had the first snow of the year just last night. There are patches of white still hanging on the steps and the porch rails, and the grass is mostly frozen. It looks a little like Brooke's eyes right now, green and glittering .

When it's clear I'm still confused, he says, "I didn't come last year."

"And?" There's an uncomfortable note in my voice and I jam my gloved hands in the pockets of my coat.

Brooke chews on his bottom lip. "I don't think they'll be too happy to see me if they know why I didn't come last year. What if they kick me to the curb?"

Ah, so this is what my uncomfortable feeling was. Remorse.

I dig my face deeper into my scarf, looking up at him from under the black wool wrapped around my neck. His cheeks and nose are flushed with the cold, and there's a crease between his eyebrows as he worries his lip. If he continues, he's going to bruise it.

Sighing further fogs up the air. Fearing that he could vanish like my breath, I free a hand and grab onto the sleeve of his jacket. "That's not gonna happen at all. They kept asking me about you last year. It annoyed Trent to death."

His shoulders drop a smidge and a wide smile forms on his face. "Oh yeah?"

"Yep. So chill, okay?" I ring the doorbell.

"I'm chill. Why are you ringing the doorbell to your own house?"

"Because I said I was bringing a surprise." I grin up at him and bump his shoulder with my fist. "Tag, you're it."

The door bursts open and my mother's expression is a kaleidoscope of emotion. The first one is annoyance that anyone would dare ring the doorbell on Thanksgiving. After all, the actual people she expects to see all have keys to the house. The second one is confusion because she sees me first, and then a super tall guy next to me. And then joy breaks out of her pores. I wish I was recording the way she spreads her arms wide, eyes and mouth just as big as she squeals.

" Brooklyn ! "

"Mama Estela." He opens his arms, one of them flying over my head and thankfully not knocking me over.

I leave them behind to hug it out and step into the warmth of the house. It smells like pabellón criollo and maybe I've turned into a cartoon, but the scent carries me over to the kitchen. I find Dad right in the middle of stealing a forkful of the carne mechada, his face blushing at getting caught.

"Mija!" He quickly dumps the meat back in the pot and puts the lid back on it. After tossing the fork in the sink, he engulfs me in his arms. "How's my baby girl doing?"

I squeeze him just as tight. "You mean your favorite and least problematic child?"

"Er…" Dad clears his throat as he pulls away. "Did you bring your EpiPen just in case?"

"Yes, Dad." I shake my head. "It's not like there's any gluten or nuts in an extremely Venezuelan Thanksgiving meal."

"That's why we do it." He chucks my chin.

I blink hard, processing.

Here I always thought it was because they wanted to celebrate their homeland just a bit, to remember its flavors, to not think of it with the sadness or the hurt of so many other immigrants. But it was because of me all along. Because the turkey stuffing has gluten. And so do pies. And some pies have nuts. And some other typical American staples of a Thanksgiving meal could also kill me on the spot because of the food coloring.

I'd take back the whole least-problematic-child if I could, except now Brooke's in the kitchen and Dad's greeting him like Brooke is the prodigal son who has finally returned.

While they're all busy with that, I grab a new fork from the drawer and sneak in a little taste of the meat. The flavors hit me with so much force, my mouth turns into a beach. Or maybe this is the first time I'm truly appreciating it .

Sudden banging makes me freeze, but when my parents keep fussing around Brooklyn without a hitch, I figure it's no big deal. I sidestep them and head out of the kitchen, looking for the source. Then I spot two sets of legs rushing down the stairs, until my sister Luz, and her husband Max, appear before me.

"Did I just hear Brooklyn's voice?" she asks me without stopping to say hi. Behind me, she screeches. "Look at you! You've turned into a freaking mountain. Max, come see!"

"Hey, Liv." My brother-in-law gives me a quick one-armed hug before following after his wife.

Brooklyn gasps like a fanboy. "Max Cassiano? The leading forward in the NHL?"

Max plays along. "Brooklyn Tatum? The highest drafted defenseman last year?" After that, I hear the unmistakable slaps of a dude-handshake, followed by weird back thumps.

I hang my grey beanie from the coat hanger by the door, and as I unwind my scarf I count how many coats it already boasts. It tells me Aran and Maddie must be on their way. I take up my favorite spot, which is peeking through the curtains until I catch them walking up to the house.

That's how Brooke finds me. He takes up the same spot but by the window on the other side of the door. "That wasn't so bad," he says in a mumble. "But the real test is coming."

I press my lips tight. Aran's gonna be the challenge. I didn't have to tell him earlier, but I know that Brooklyn knows that Aran was the only one who didn't miss him last year.

"Why do you think he hates me so much?" Brooke asks as if he could read my mind.

"I don't know." That's a lie. I'm sure Aran's always known I've had a huge unrequited crush on Brooke since forever.

"Who's up for a game of catch?" Dad asks from the living room.

"Well, the catcher hasn't arrived yet," my sister says .

But that's when I spot movement from the corner of my eye, and sure enough, that's my brother and his wife walking up to the house. Maddie's in a green coat that brings out the almost imperceptible red in her hair. My brother's in all black. Boring. Or like a grim reaper. Depending on his mood.

I glance at Brooke. "Ready?"

He swallows hard and is doing the shoulder rolling thing again. "I got this. I'm taller than him now. Boxing is one of my dryland trainings. I could plow through him now. We can do this."

"Okay…" Without warning, I swing the door open. Aran and Maddie pause, and where her face breaks into a huge smile, his is the picture of wariness. "Greetings, you must pay a toll to pass through this door," I say, extending my hand out for payment.

To my surprise, Maddie digs into her coat and pulls out a book. "Here's my payment. An ARC of my next release."

Now I'm the one shrieking like a banshee. "Oh my word, oh my word! Is this finally Kent and Ophelia's story?"

"That's right. Friends to lovers at last."

I snatch up the book and hug it tight to my chest. This is the book I've been waiting for ever since she started her self-published hockey romance series years ago. And of course, it's so I can live vicariously through it.

"I love you so much," I whisper fiercely as I hug her in a vise. "You're my favorite sister-in-law."

"She's your only sister-in-law, you twerp," my brother says in a deadpan.

Pulling away from Maddie, I glare at him. "Pay up, jerk."

He has the nerve to pinch his chewing gum between his teeth, before plucking it between his fingers. I move my hand away before he can dump it there.

"Wow, I hate you. "

A corner of his mouth twitches. "Missed you too, Aceituna."

I wrinkle my nose as I watch them step into the house. Luz or my mom, I can't tell from outside, exclaim upon their arrival. And then my oaf of a brother freezes at the door. I know why, but I still push him with all my might until he grunts and I can finally shut the door behind me.

I stand there, watching the faceoff between my brother to my left, and Brooklyn to my right. Brooke's hands are in the pockets of his jeans, shoulders curled inwards as if making himself smaller. So much for him being taller than Aran.

"Oh my." Maddie puts a hand on her cheek as she looks up at Brooke. "I can't believe you got even cuter, kid. How is this possible?"

Aran grunts. "He's no TDH."

"Huh?" I ask.

Maddie leans closer to me. "Tall, dark, and handsome."

"Oh. Yeah, no. Brooke's tall, light, and…" I trail off when three pairs of eyes turn to me, equal amounts of amusement between them. Folding my arms, I say, "Super ugly. Like it hurts to look at him."

"Excuse me, I am not ugly." Brooke turns his nose up and points at the faint scar on his cheek. "I'm ruggedly handsome."

"Hey, Dad," I call out, ignoring Brooke. "The catcher's here."

"Finally." Dad smacks the armrests of his armchair and gets up. "Catcher, pitcher, batter, and centerfield, let's go," he says, pointing at Aran, himself, Max, and at Brooklyn.

Aran's the first out the door, since he's the only one who didn't even get to take off his winter wear. I try to make my way through the mass of dudes now blocking my way but it's like they're doing it on purpose.

But then two pairs of hands cinch around my waist and next thing, I'm flying. When I land away from the melee, I turn over my shoulder and Brooke winks at me.

Did he just lift me up like I'm some fairy princess or something?

"Mierda." I whisper when I notice that Luz, Maddie, and Mom all saw that little exchange.

I stand still as the men walk out the door. Our backyard is ridiculously tiny, but there's a nice park a block away where Dad takes the hockey bros in our family and forces them to play baseball with him. Normally, the women stay back in the warmth of the house, sipping hot, spiced wine and watching trashy reality shows. Except I have a feeling I'm the reality show now.

"Well, well." My sister singsongs.

"That was so cute." Maddie pulls up her cellphone. "I'm so gonna write that into a book."

"What?" I swallow hard.

My sister-in-law looks up with wide eyes. "He just Patrick Swayzeyed you."

"He did not."

"So, is this finally happening?" Mom wiggles her eyebrows.

I scrunch up not just my face, but my entire being. "What are you talking about?"

"Are you two finally getting together?"

"No!" I scream and hold tighter onto Maddie's book against my chest.

"Why not?" Luz twists her face in confusion. "It's about damn time."

"Yes, but no—I mean…" I sigh, exasperated out of my mind. "You don't understand."

"Then explain it to us." Maddie pats the open seat on the couch next to her.

And because it's Maddie, who is sweeter than sugar itself, and not because it's one of my evil relatives commanding it, I drag my feet over to sit next to her and I give them the gist of it. No one's shocked when I admit to my feelings for him. There's a bigger reaction when I finally fess up to why he didn't come for Thanksgiving last year. And complete outrage when I tell them my feelings are one-sided.

"One-sided my ass!" Luz throws her head back and laugh. "Aran and I have a running bet since you were in middle school about whether the two of you had hooked up or not."

Mom gives her a warning glance. "And what exactly does hooking up mean?"

My face flames up. Luckily, Mom's attention is on my sister. "Erm, kissing. Getting together as a couple." We all leave the possibility of sex out of this conversation. Not that it's even relevant.

"So, uh. What are the bet's terms?"

"Aran bet that you're never hooking up." She grins at the way I grow visibly grouchy. "And I bet that you're definitely hooking up at some point. Who's winning?"

All three of them lean forward.

I place the book on my lap, running my fingers across the title. That's when I notice that the hero's illustration is a tall blond. And the heroine is a brunette with mid-brown skin tone. Even though her hair's long, she looks a lot like me.

I give Maddie a side eye. "Wait, Kent… like a place. And Ophelia, which is a similar name to Olivia?"

Maddie nudges me with her shoulder. "Ophelia will get her happily ever after. How about you?"

"We kissed once," I blurt out, and before they can even react, I also add, "But that's it. He hasn't even tried to kiss me again."

Mom's hands are on her chest, but she's not even mad that her little girl's up to no bueno. Meanwhile, my sister slaps her thighs. "But what about you? Have you tried to kiss him again? "

"Of course not." I sink back into the couch. "We're just hanging out again. The kiss was a fluke."

"I don't think so. The boy doesn't tear his eyes from you." Maddie shrugs.

"He's never torn his eyes from you." Luz's widen, as if she was trying to pass along a telepathic message.

In turn, I roll mine. "What are you talking about? He had a crush on you and then on a million girls but me after that."

"Whatever." Luz waves her hand. "That all was before he knew himself. I'm telling you he's looking at you like he wants to eat you up now."

"No sex," Mom says right then. "Not before marriage."

Maddie and Luz stay uncharacteristically quiet. Then again, so am I. Even if the sky turned green and the grass blue, and Brooke and I hooked up in the not-safe-for-work definition of the word, he wouldn't be my first. That honor was wasted on my gross ex—ugh, I best not think about that.

"Anyway, I think you really have a chance now." Maddie reaches over and squeezes my hand. "Don't be a fool like your brother who almost wasted ours."

My mom and sister nod. The three of them are dead set on the same opinion, which is a feat from three headstrong women.

I'm a headstrong girl too, but maybe right now I'm being stubborn in a bad way. A ray of warmth pierces through my chest, and I don't dare to breathe in case it expands everywhere. I know it's hope, and hope is scary for someone who isn't used to allowing it in her life.

After biting my lip, I ask, "Okay, so what should I do?"