Page 42 of Christmas with Brother's Best Friends

“We still need to post an update for the profile picture glitch. It’s fixed now,” I tell him.

Ryan nods and starts on an update post, his eyes narrowing a little in concentration.

I like the little crease between his eyebrows when he does that.

We take the next thirty minutes to tie up loose strings and answer a few more questions posted in the comments of the social media posts. In that time, no major bugs pop up. Nothing that has to be immediately dealt with anyway.

Josh stands from his desk. “I think we can be done for the rest of the day. The on-call team is available for the rest of the day, and everyone is off tomorrow and the next day.”

I smile in relief. “I think things are looking good, guys. People really like the work that we’ve done.”

“We couldn’t have done it without you,” Max replies, his voice full of gratitude.

My heart skips as our eyes meet. There are many things that I can thank them for, starting with this job, but that doesn’t even scratch the surface.

I part my lips to reply, but the lights suddenly shut off, cloaking us in near darkness aside from the white glow of the snow-covered city right outside the windows. The heater that’s keeping us from being popsicles whirs for a second before turning off, silence filling the building.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ryan grits out.

Josh rubs the back of his neck as he glances around, waiting for the power to boot back on. But it doesn’t. “That’s definitely a sign that we should stop working for the day. Maybe it’s time to head home.”

Max wanders closer to one of the windows and glances down. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

We all hurry to his side and peer down, staring at streets and sidewalks full of snow. Barely anyone is in sight, and the cars in the road are stalled. No one is going anywhere.

“I think we’re stuck here,” I say as my stomach flip flops. Stuck in one place with all of them in an office that’s rapidly losing its heat.

“I’ll turn on the battery powered Christmas lights,” Josh replies before setting off, switching on the lights hanging from our desks to add an extra red and green glow to the office space.

At least it’s getting more festive in here, but as I let Ryan and Max lead me to the sofa in the lounge area, the holidays are the last thing on my mind. Is this some sort of test to resist my desires? Or is it a sign to act on them since there’s nowhere to run and hide?

Josh sits across from us in a cushioned chair, rubbing his hands together. “It’ll get a little chilly in here. I wish we had more things to keep you warm, Em.”

“I’m fine,” I reply, despite how tense my body is already becoming to fight the cold. I thought I would be safe from it here.

Max squeezes my knee. “You don’t have to lie.”

“We’ll figure it out eventually anyway,” Ryan says as he leans closer to me, peering down as I slip my hands between my thighs to keep them warm.

“We should figure out what we’re going to do now,” I tell them, my stomach twisting when I realize all of their eyes are on me.

And they’re so dangerously close.

Even Josh, who is a few feet away in another chair, could reach me in a matter of seconds if he wanted to. But his eyes remain settled on me, shadows adorning his handsome face.

“We pass the time until the power comes back on and the storm dies down,” Josh says.

“Pass the time how?” I find myself asking.

We could just talk. We could play a game. We could eat all the sweets that Ryan stashes in the second drawer of his desk.

Yet, none of those things come to mind.

Not with Max and Ryan sitting so close to me, physical contact inevitable in some manner. Not with Josh gazing at me as if he’s waiting for something to happen. I think we all know that we’re stuck in a pivotal situation.

But who’s going to say something first? Who’s going todosomething first?

“Let’s just focus on keeping you warm,” Ryan replies as he reaches around the front of me so that he can rub both of my arms, generating heat underneath his big hands. He has to leanso close that our faces are barely inches apart. “How’s that feel?” I can barely answer. His touch is gentle, comforting—but also dangerous.