I nod, not entirely sure why she feels she even has to ask. We’ve spent the last two nights pressed up against each other and, with everything that’s happened between us today, she can’t really believe there’s any reality where I don’t fall asleep with her by my side. Can she?
She gives me a relieved grin and then disappears down the hall, her braids swaying behind her with each step she takes. She’s humming something under her breath as she goes, and I’m pretty sure it’s a song fromHow The Grinch Stole Christmas.
The fact that it doesn’t irritate me – the sound of Christmas music echoing in my home – is a testament to how far I’ve come over the last three days.
I rise from the sofa, suddenly feeling restless. I meant what I said earlier – if Noelle is determined to celebratemenext year, the least I can do is make sure she has a Christmas to remember this year.
She deserves that much and so much more. But how?
How do I go about making this Christmas something truly special with only – I glance at my watch again – anhour before midnight strikes? My thoughts drift, once again, to my foil stars hiding away in my office.
Surely I can do better than that. Can’t I?
I’m lost in my thoughts as I absentmindedly walk over to the window. The sight of the snow outside beginning to melt snaps my attention away from my mental dilemma and I press my face against the glass, peering into the darkness outside. Moonlight casts silver outlines on the melting snow and I can see the roof of Noelle’s car. Three days ago it was buried in a sea of white, but now the thaw has begun and I feel a twinge in my chest.
A slight pang of regret mixed with something else.
She’s going to want to leave, isn’t she?
And I wouldn’t blame her. Wouldn’t stop her either. As soon as she realises that the storm is over and the roads are safe, she’ll be out of here in a flash. Part of me is happy for her – I know how much she wants to be with her family, her loved ones, for Christmas. But another part of me, the inherently selfish part, desperately wants her to stay.
But Noelle deserves more than my own selfishness right now.
I shake my head and turn off the TV before I clamber upstairs. I hear the sound of the shower running as I walk past the guest bedroom. I hesitate outside for a moment, half-heartedly wondering if I should knock and let her know about the storm, but I guess I’m a coward becauseI keep on walking. I want to savour this for just a little while longer.
I reach my room and take a deep breath. Guilt gnaws at me as I step into the shower and underneath the cascade of blissfully warm water.
I should tell her.
Shedeservesto know.
And besides, she’ll realise sooner or later anyway. I’m surprised her phone hasn’t been blowing up with calls and texts from Eve, telling her to hurry up and get on her way.
I step out of the shower, steam billowing around me, and wrap myself in a towel. The air is cool against my damp skin as I make my way back to my bedroom, intent on pulling on some clothes. As soon as I open the adjoining door, I freeze.
Noelle is lying across my bed like some sort of Christmas gift waiting to be unwrapped. My fingers twitch by my side as I take her in. She’s wearing an oversized sweatshirt of mine, the green fabric hanging off her shoulder, revealing just enough skin to set my heart racing.
And that’s it.
Nothing else.
Her long, bare legs stretch out across my white sheets, her skin glowing under the soft lamplight in a way that makes her look almost ethereal.
My heartbeat pulses at the sight of her, and I can feel desire coiling in the pit of my stomach.
Without a word, I cross the room and stand in front of her, reaching out a hand to caress her cheek. Her skin is soft beneath my touch, warm and inviting. She leans into my hand, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment before she meets my gaze again, a silent question lingering between us.
I lean down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss that sends a jolt of electricity coursing through both of us. Noelle responds eagerly, her arms winding around my neck as she pulls me closer, deepening the kiss.
I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of kissing her.
It feels brand new every single time. I could drown in the sensation, in the way she moulds herself against me, like she can’t get close enough.
I’m still slightly damp from the shower, but Noelle doesn’t seem to mind. She drags a hand down the length of my chest, stopping where I’ve got the towel wrapped around my waist. Her long fingers dip under the fabric, and I feel her smirk against my lips as she pulls me backwards and onto the bed with her.
I topple over her, our bodies fitting together perfectly, and her laughter bubbles up between our kisses.
I could very easily lose myself in Noelle. In the softness of her skin. In her panted moans. In the way she arches against me with a quiet desperation that mirrors my own.
