“How are you feeling?” I ask softly.
He makes a noncommittal noise, looking up at me through his lashes. It’s unfair how long and thick they are. “I can’t skate for the life of me.”
“Oh, come on, you had fun.”
“Sure, for the whole two seconds where I managed to keep balance instead of lying on the ground like a sorry bitch.”
Laughter bubbles out of me, warming my cheeks, which puts a grin on Diego’s face too. His expression softens as he regards me with an intensity that makes me blush. He sits down again next to me while we change into our shoes, and says, “I’m okay.”
“How are youreally?” I know Diego’s comfortable sharing his thoughts with me, but sometimes it feels like he’s too much in his head and refraining from telling me how he’s actually feeling. He knows that I’ll never pressure him into opening up if he doesn’t want to, though. But I don’t like it when he bottles everything inside.
He finds my gaze, smiling softly. “I’m good, baby.” If he notices he’s used the nickname he’s given me while people roam around us, he doesn’t let on. I remain a blushing mess. “All thanks to you. You know, I don’t know if I could’ve done it if you weren’t here to help me feel better about myself.” He claps his hands between his thighs, glancing at the busy rink. “My recovery has been challenging, physically speaking, butrebuilding myself mentally hasn’t been easy either. Days were definitely shit at the beginning, but I haven’t felt this good in a while. I know it’s because you’re always here to hold my hand.”
His words send a rush of warmth through me. Seeing him looking lighter and happier, and knowing I’ve been contributing positively to his recovery is like ticking a box after completing a challenge.
“I’m happy to hear that,” I murmur. The urge to touch him becomes overwhelming. “You’ll get there.”
He stares at me with a certain tenderness he should really be hiding, since we’re in public, but he doesn’t seem to care. For a flickering heartbeat, his eyes drop to my mouth, then he says, “Let’s go. I don’t want to see this rink for the next ten years.” He sees the roll of my eyes. “I had fun, though.”
“Right. Look at you trying to make up for your douchey attitude.”
He leans in, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. “I can think of a few things to make you forgive me. Starting by getting down on my knees and pulling your—”
I clamp my hand over his mouth. He laughs, nibbling at my palm before letting go. “Keep the sweet talk for when we get home, you flirt. Let’s just go.”
After returning the borrowed skates, he pulls me toward the Christmas market. “Craving a crêpe or hot cocoa?” I ask with a taunt.
His mouth tilts upward. “Are you asking me to recreate our first date that wasn’t a date but I still consider as one?”
“The answer to your nonsense is yes.”
“Noted.”
His fingers entwine with mine, and, a second later, we’re sitting on the bench inside the vintage photo booth that the town puts at everyone’s disposal. My heart starts racing – there’s something so romantic about taking photos in a confined placelike this one and keeping their memories alive on a strip of paper.
Pulling me onto his lap, Diego fumbles with the screen, then whispers in my ear, “Smile.”
We pull out our tongues on the first shot. We laugh at ourselves on the second one. On the third one, Diego cradles my jaw while I smile at the flashing light. And for the last one his mouth falls onto mine, a kiss full of unspoken promises and whispered confessions, full of adoration.
We kiss, and kiss, and kiss, even though the camera stopped flashing seconds ago.
And, with each kiss, I can feel his smile against my lips and my heart drumming a little faster. Each beat is a melody, a certainty that says I’m completely his.
I think I’m screwed, but I don’t care.
I am terrified of what might happen if he leaves soon, and I have to brace myself for the crash, but I refuse to face reality.
It’s Christmas Eve today, and what’s magical about living in Blue Ridge Springs is that the chances of having a white Christmas are high. As I’m touching up my makeup, I glance out of the small window in the bathroom to look at the snow falling onto the backyard, blanketing it with a thick layer.
Well, walking to my parents’ place in high heels should be fun.
We’ve invited the Ramirezes to have dinner with us. Dad’s idea, but the thought of seeing Diego all dressed up thrills me. I’m not sure that I’ll be able to hide my adoration for him, though.
I saw him today. Yesterday. Every day of the freaking week, to be honest, and I already miss him. I don’t think there are enough words to describe the way he makes me feel – seen, protected,loved. I’ve never been so comfortable, so myself, than when I am with Diego.
He’s everything to me.
He’s wrapped himself around my heart like a warm blanket, and, in return, I’ve given him the love he deserves. As a reward, I’ve had the privilege of watching him bloom like a flower in the spring. Watching him find his old self again.
