Page 90 of The Other Side

“Hi,” I say.

The top two buttons of his dress shirt are undone. That black tie still unfastened and hung around his neck.

He’s lethally handsome. All cleaned up, but in this sort of rugged way that reminds me it’s him.

Dove.

But he’s so big.

His lean muscles are carved with these thick veins that I want to sink my teeth into. His arms have more hair, just like his face does. His tight chest is sprinkled with a light layer of it too.

I wonder where the boy I fell in love with is.

Is he really underneath all of this?

“Can I come in?” I finally ask.

His jaw ticks with amusement. “You shouldn’t insult me so much.”

My lips purse when he steps aside to grant me room. I enter the house before he closes the door, only to dart my attention to another voice.

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving.”

Sean’s throwing a hoodie over his t-shirt as he walks toward us. He swipes a hand through his shaggy hair, and then he’s extending it to me. “Very nice to see you again, Callie Rae. Also, Happy Birthday.”

I grin as I accept his hug. “Same. Thank you so much.”

We peel away, his smile flashing across his smooth jaw. Then Sean looks over to Brant.

“Brant.”

“I know. I owe you,” Brant answers.

Sean points as he grabs for the handle of the front door. “That you do. I’ll see you later.”

After Sean exits the house, Brant’s latching the lock in place. “I didn’t want you to feel awkward if he was here.” He lifts off the door to face me, casually motioning a hand. “Figured we had some things to catch up on, you know? Especially today.”

I nod, a heat sweeping through me. Then my eyes examine him more.

His necklace is entirely exposed, drawing attention to his olive skin. Skin that’s tight and refined, just like the shape of his stubbled jaw and tapered eyes.

“I hope it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience. This is his home. I should be the one to bend,” I reply.

The corner of his lips kicks up. He turns to walk through the slim hallway, and his hand surfs through his hair. I’m a step behind him when he says, “I do solids for him, don’t worry. It’s been an unspoken agreement between us since college.”

We enter the kitchen, the recessed lights casting an even, white glow. Brant’s hands disappear into his pockets, and he nestles himself in the crook of the L-shaped counter.

My legs slow, my eyes lingering on the large, white box parked on the butcher block surface. The blush ribbon hugs the length and width of the gift, knotting into a bow at the center of the lid.

“What is this?” I ask, standing at the end of the counter.

His fingers nudge the box closer to me. “I told you I had something to give you. However, this is only part of it.”

I pop my gaze to his, shaking my head. “This is unnecessary.”

“I respectfully disagree,” he counters, sliding his palm back into his pocket. “But if you insist on feeling guilty, the other gift is small. So small that you’re going to feel really silly for fighting me on it right now. You may as well just save yourself from the humiliation and all the jokes I’m going to toss your way after.”

My teeth roll over my bottom lip. I glide my crossbody off my shoulder, stationing it on the counter.