‘You’re right. You two shouldn’t be avoiding each other. The longer this storm goes on, the less likely it is you’ll make it here for Christmas and I willnothave my sister spending Christmas alone.’
That pang of longing from earlier hits me again, as Eve reminds me of everything I’m about to miss this year.
‘So you guys need to get it together,’ Eve continues. ‘I’m going back to my first suggestion.’
I frown, trying to wrack my brain and remember what Eve’s first suggestion even was.
‘Like I said yesterday, maybe you’re here so you can let some of your Christmas spirit rub off on him.’
That is definitelynotthe answer I was expecting, and I can’t help but scoff. ‘Haven’t we been through this? Ale— Hoxton is a Grinch through and through. There’s a better chance of this storm breaking in the next ten seconds, than Alexander Hoxton getting in the Christmas spirit.’
CHAPTER THIRTEENAlex
I’m pretty sure I lost all feeling in my toes about two hours ago.
I’ve pulled on another sweatshirt and I’ve tripled up on socks, but the chill in my office is biting, seeping into my very bones with each passing second. I rub my hands together for warmth, trying to stave off the numbness that threatens to take hold.
My mind keeps wandering back to that kiss, that stolen moment of heat and passion that seemed to ignite a fire inside me. Noelle’s lips on mine, her touch so tantalisingly soft yet electrifying at the same time. I can still feel the ghost of her fingers tracing along my jawline, sending shivers down my spine. Every time I close my eyes, the memory dances behind my eyelids, her scent – warm and cosy – lingering in the air around me.
But now, as I sit here in this freezing office, the memory of our kiss only serves to frustrate me further. I can’t focus on anything else, can’t shake the longing that has settled deep inside me, working its way into the deepest caverns of my chest. The cold only seems to heighten my awareness of every sensation, every desire towards Noelle that burns inside me.
I try to distract myself by focusing on my budget spreadsheets but it’s useless. My thoughts keep wandering back to Noelle. To the way her body fit against mine so perfectly. To the sound of her quiet moans. The way her skin felt like fire beneath my lips. The way my name –Alex– spilled from her kiss-bruised lips and sounded like warm honey as it reached my ears.
How did she manage to invade every fibre of my being with just one kiss?
How can I get her to do it again?
Would she even want to?
DoIeven want to?
I shake my head and return to my spreadsheet, desperate to push her out of my mind. At least, I try to. But the numbers and equations in front of me all morph into an unreadable blur and it’s clear that I’m not getting anywhere with this anytime soon.
Another distraction then.
I pull up my internet browser, intent on flicking throughtoday’s headlines but my fingers move of their own accord and, before I know it, I’m typing ‘homemade Christmas decorations’ into the search bar.
Dear God, what have I become?
Images of intricate paper snowflakes, foil Christmas tree toppers, and handmade wreaths flood my screen, and each one leaves me feeling completely uninspired and more than a little bit irritated.
I scoff at a photo of a meticulously hand-painted ornament, its colours vibrant and flawless. It’s too much. Too pristine. Too cookie-cutter perfect. The delicate snowflakes look like a hassle to create, the tree toppers too gaudy for my taste, and the wreaths seem like a pointless endeavour. Too much work for twenty-four hours sitting centre stage – and that’s even if anyone notices it amongst the deluge of all the other Christmas crap that’ll undoubtedly surround it.
With each click of the mouse, I delve deeper into the world of DIY Christmas decorations. Glitter-covered baubles, intricate garlands made of dried oranges and cinnamon sticks, and even a tutorial on how to create your own doll-sized gingerbread house. I can’t help but roll my eyes at the absurdity of it all.
Who has time for this?
Who needs their home transformed into a winter wonderland just to celebrate a single day?
Why am Istillscrolling through them all?
But then it dawns on me, as I scroll through countless DIY Christmas decoration ideas, I’m only doing this because I know it’ll make Noelle smile.
As the realisation hits me, a wave of frustration washes over me. Why am I bending over backwards, searching for things that don’t even interest me, just to please her? Why should I have to change who I am just because, like everyone else in the world, she has an insane need to celebrate Christmas?
I know the answer, even as I voice the question to myself.
The truth is, I think I would do pretty much anything to see that smile light up Noelle’s face. The thought of her turning that smile on me fills me with an inexplicable warmth, the kind that spreads from my chest to the tips of my fingers. It’s a feeling I can’t quite comprehend, one I don’t think I’ve ever felt before, but I know that I crave it more than anything else right now.
