37. BROOKLYN

CHAPTER 37

brOOKLYN

" W e're doing this?" I ask and I'm afraid to admit my voice shakes.

"Not if you don't want to." Liv makes our arms swing, joined by our hands as they are.

Taking a deep breath that fills up my lungs with icy air, I make a conscious decision to shut my fears out and just go for it. I ring the doorbell to my dad's house.

"I'll be here every step of the way," she says beside me.

My chest explodes with a burst of something, and the only way to release it is by capturing her face between my hands and pressing my lips to hers. Liv makes a humming sound from her throat that makes my heartstrings thrum. I savor her lips slowly, mine working in tandem with my tongue to map her silky softness.

Of course, that's when the front door opens.

"Eww." No doubt that's Lee.

Olivia's and my lips make a loud smacking sound as we separate. As greeting to my half-brother, I say, "Hey, twerp. Is your father around?"

"First of all, you're the twerp." I give him a shit-eating grin that seems to annoy him further. "Second of all, he's your father too. And third of all—or just third? Whatever—and third, it's Christmas, you twerp . Where else do you think Dad would be if not home?"

"Wow, that's cute. You already know how to chirp back." I pull him into a headlock faster than he can react and rub his hair. "Who taught you that, huh?"

Behind me, Liv sighs. "Brooklyn, unhand him. Absolutely no one enjoys your headlocks."

"Wrong. I do." But I do release him. I try my best not to laugh as he fixes up his hair and glares the shit out of me.

But his expression softens when he looks at Liv. "Erm, thank you."

"Hey, she's taken." At the look on Liv's face, I say, "What? I recognize those eyes. They're those of a tween developing a crush on a hot, older girl."

She cocks an eyebrow. "You'd know, huh?"

Oops. I've walked into a mine field.

"Well, we better go in before we freeze out here," I say amiably and guide her inside.

"Do you still think Luz is hot?"

"Hmm, I wonder where Dad is." I busy myself hanging my beanie on the coat rack and unraveling my scarf.

"Oh, so you do?"

I snort. "Please, you'd punch me if I said she isn't."

"True, no one can say any crap about my sister other than me." After a pause, she asks, "But I'm hotter, right?"

Relieved that this question's easy, I say, "Of freaking course. You're the hottest girl in the entire planet."

"You guys are gross," Lee says before shouting, "Dad! Your other son is here!" His feet patter away from us after that, no doubt back to playing with whatever his parents bought him.

The one who finds us first is Lauren, though. "Merry Christmas, kids." We return the greeting and she ushers us to the kitchen. "Eggnog? I made it with coconut milk, in case you visited us, Liv."

"Sure," I say as I hold the barstool for Liv to sit comfortably. She says she doesn't like it when I do things that she can do herself, but I do like it. And that's just one of the little things we've had to adapt to now that we're out of the friendzone and into coupleville. Another one is when she dresses super sexy for a night out. That one I don't like because there are too many creeps out there, but she does. Compromise and all that.

Lauren pours two hefty cups of eggnog for us and one for herself. After a little toast, I take a sip and?—

Start coughing.

Liv clears her throat. "Erm, Mrs. Tatum. I think you gave us the one for adults."

For alcoholic adults. Not even a shot at a Bolt House party has ever given me a kick like this.

"Don't tell your father, but I think you're old enough," Lauren says with another sip of hers. "Is it too strong, though?"

"A bit?" Liv's eyes are watery. So… not just a bit .

But my step-mother shrugs. "Oh well."

Liv and I exchange a glance. Her face reads the exact same thing I'm thinking. Which is that we cannot laugh, no matter what.

Heavier steps than Lee's descend down the stairs and I tense. Immediately, my girlfriend slides her hand to my knee and gives it a healthy squeeze. Healthy, I say, because it elicits a totally healthy reaction out of me that travels all the way to my blushing cheeks.

I clear my throat to center myself as Dad appears before me. He kisses his wife's forehead before facing us, his expression even more drawn than usual.

"Son."

"Dad. "

"Mr. Tatum." When he turns to Liv, she adds, "Merry Christmas."

"Of course. Yes. To you as well."

Silence.

I take another sip of the eggnog. Now that I know what to expect, it doesn't hit me quite as hard. Though it's still funny how a chilled beverage is warming me up so fast.

Liv smacks my thigh with the back of her hand and I jolt.

"Right." I place my glass back on the counter. Why is this harder than the prospect of playing professional hockey players in a couple of weeks? I tap my fingers on the cool granite counter surface, and talk to them rather than to my dad. "So, um. I wanted to apologize. For last time."

Even more silence.

I dare a peek at my girlfriend. She's nodding at me, short hair brushing her jaw with the motion. I've already said my due, so it's probably fine if I whisk her upstairs for some of the teddy bear cuddling she claims to want, right?

But Dad makes a raspy sound from his throat. "I should be the one apologizing."

"Huh?" My head whips up.

"Your father has been doing a lot of thinking after your phone call." Lauren draws circles on Dad's chest with the palm of her hand. It occurs to me then that she's doing the same thing Liv's doing with my knee. Soothing me. As if Dad was nervous too.

Huh? I repeat in my mind. What the hell does he have to be nervous about?

"I… I had no idea you felt that way." Dad leans his hands on the counter, and I notice he's tapping his fingers too. "You've always been so independent. I thought—I thought you didn't need me. Which in hindsight makes me even more of an asshole."

"You're not an asshole, honey," his wife counters .

"I am. My therapist said I used that as an excuse to pull away from Brooklyn because he reminds me too much of Natalie."

Lauren's appalled. "Did your therapist call you an asshole?"

"No—"

"You go to therapy?" Liv squints at him, trying to picture it.

I latch onto something else entirely. "How in the freaking hell do I remind you of my mother? I couldn't be more different from her."

"I know, Brooklyn. I know." He runs a shaky hand through his hair, darker than mine. "It's just your face. You look so much like her."

That lands like a kick from Manny Pacquiao to the solar plexus. I open and close my mouth, but only air comes out.

"That's entirely a me-problem," Dad says, raising the palm of his hand. "And I took it out on you without even realizing it until you yelled at me. I'm…" His voice softens. "I'm so sorry, son."

Ah, shit.

I hang my head, squeezing my eyes tight. I freaking refuse to cry over this.

But then Liv's closing her arms around me. I bury my face in her chest and she hides me from the world.

Apparently Dad's not done yet, though. "And you were so right. I've been a t-terrible father." He pauses and I hear a sniff. Two. He clears his throat and his voice comes out stronger now. "I know it's too little, too late, but I'm working on this with my therapist. I hope you can give me a chance to make amends when you're ready."

"Good job, Bryce." Lauren whispers to him, though not low enough that I miss it. "Aren't you glad we rehearsed? "

Liv's chest rumbles with her voice. "But you didn't know we were coming."

"No." Lauren's laughter twinkles. "But Bryce was planning to deliver this speech while seeing Brooklyn off at the airport next week."

Liv and I snort at the same time.

That sign of amusement makes her pull away. She smooshes my cheeks between her hands and runs her thumbs across them, wiping away the moisture her clothes didn't catch. Her sweet little smile makes my chest do something funny.

"Aren't you glad we decided to come?"

"Yes." I sound like a little kid with my face all smooshed between her hands. Meanwhile, I run mine up the back of her thighs to remind her I'm not a little kid. Just in case she forgot.

I don't know if Dad can guess at what's happening behind the counter, but he clears his throat. "Anyway, are you staying with us for the last days? Your bedroom and a guest room are ready for you two, if you want."

"Sorry, Dad." I lean way from my girlfriend's manhandling hands to look at him and his wife. "Liv and I already have plans." Plans that I can't tell him about, if I go by the gentle warning behind the words guest room .

"We're going to my parents' next," Liv says, and clever girl that she is, she drops that half truth without adding the other one. We rented a literal cabin in the woods where I'm going to show her how spectacularly, unbearably hot I find her.

We spend a couple more hours at my dad's, which includes some street hockey with Lee and some of his friends from school, and head over to Liv's to have lunch with the entire clan, including both of her siblings and their spouses. It's pretty wild that soon I'm going to be playing against Max and Aran.

But the real dream coming true is finally getting actual alone time with my girlfriend, my best friend, the love of my life. And also reminding her that I'm not a teddy bear or a golden retriever, but a feral raccoon. Only for her.