One More Time (Bremmy 1)

Chapterish 60

11:46 PM

"There you guys are!" Trix shouts, pulling me by the hand closer to the bar. "And where were you?"

"Seriously! It's almost midnight." Travis says, grinning.

"Sorry," I smirk.

I take the champagne flute she's shoving into my hand. The blush rosé is spilling over the edge of the glass. Bubbles galore.

Trix looks at me, eyes rolling, and takes me by the hand. She drops her voice so only I can hear. "You two are nuts!"

"Finally! Thought you two would miss the countdown," Meg says walking up to us.

Nate slides his hand around her waist. "Something tells me they wouldn't mind missing it."

I shoot him a shut up look.

"Emmy was just giving private tours," Alex laughs.

"Not true!" My voice comes out squeaky.

I go tense at his words and can't ignore how Brooks shifts next to me. I squeeze his arm beneath my fingers. Silent reassurance. What every twenty-something needs.

"I need another drink," Brooks says, shrugging my hand off him. I let it drop and watch him walk away in the direction of the bar.

"I'll be right back," Travis says. He disappears in the same spot where Brooks just went. Trix bulges her eyes at me like it's my fault they just left.

"Em, what happened? What's with Brooks?" Trix shakes her head.

"I don't know what his issue is," I say, answering her telepathic question. "But I need a drink too."

Trix and I circle back to the champagne tower again. It's still overflowing. We grab glasses. I should really take two.

"Ok, come on," Trix is pulling me back to the spot we just left –back to where Meg and Nate and Alex and Katie are waiting.

Someone takes the stage, the burlesque show continuing on in the background. The jazz stops and so do the voices. An eerie calm settles over the entire mansion. The woman with the red fur is next to us again. She's staring intently at the man on the stage like she's begging him to take her somewhere.

"Ladies and gentlemen. Ten minutes remain." A loud applause erupts around the mansion, spilling onto the terrace and echoing in the courtyard.

Brooks and Travis snake through the crowd, fresh drinks in hand. They're laughing. Good sign. OK.

"That was quick," Trix says. She pecks Travis on the cheek.

"Wouldn't keep you waiting." Travis returns the kiss. Ugh. Vomit.

"Hey," Brooks says, quiet. Grinning down at me and shit, hair parted and slicked back, his suspenders showing.

Oh, another mood swing.

"Hey," I smirk back.

His hand slides around my waist and with that we are the last of the couples to brace for impact.

Here it is: The end of the epic, the countdown.

It's a new kind of electrifying, subtly yet significantly different from last night's rave. There're no drugs in my system and not nearly as much alcohol as last night. But the hype is hysteria, contagious. The burlesque lead takes the old-fashioned microphone in hand. The band strikes up a jazz beat. The crowd starts.

TEN

NINE

EIGHT

I turn to look at Brooks standing next to me. He looks unreal. This entire thing feels unreal. I pinch myself to keep from thinking of our sexcapade on the balcony. His lips spread into a grin when he sees me looking at him. The rest of the room becomes a blur.

FIVE

FOUR

I'm hardly aware of Trix and Travis behind us, or Meg and Nate already making out next to us. A blob of red fur rushes past me. The jazz tempo increases. I down the rest of my champagne.

THREE

TWO

ONE

ROAR

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

"Happy New Years!"

"Woo-hoo!"

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the twenties!"

"To the twenties!"

I hear only what my subconscious picks up; the entire party is now some distorted realm of reality. Gold tinsel confetti showers us in glimmering specs of foiled light. The only thing I'm fully aware of is Brooks. His lips on mine. His hand on my waist. My arms crossed behind his neck. His hair under my fingers.

We false started. Flag on the play. We kissed on TWO. We ended 2019 and started 2020 during the same kiss –the first time we've done this since senior year of high school.

And guess what?

I want to do it every year.