“Jace,” I whisper.
He freezes, his captivating attentiveness piercing through my hesitation. “Starlight,” he breathes, the new nickname sinking into my bones. His dark, maple-syrup-colored eyes take in my features with an almost reverent hunger.
In a few hours, I’ve gone from feeling invisible to feeling more seen than I have in the past nearly twenty-six years. In his presence, my fears about my flaws and imperfections have quieted. A tentative feeling unwraps, a wondrous thought emerging that if he were to see the things I try to hide, he’d celebrate them rather than tolerate them.
In the space of an evening, this man has done what no one else has been able to: He’s reminded me that I am worth someone’s time.
I think of my life in New York City and Birch Borough, the quiet ice rink sparking a revelation that allows me to be hyper-focused on Jace’s proximity. Lately, I’ve been so surrounded by bright neon lights, the honking of car horns, the buzz of street vendors and taxis, the echo of pop culture Christmas songs, ride shares, and celebrities that I can’t think. I’m continually among a myriad of people, yet somehow, he and I found each other when I traveled home.
Home.
I begin hesitantly. “Jace, I know we just met, and I have to go back to New York . . .” I trail off.
On his face is a charged grin, full of encouragement, but I see the sadness under it too. It feels like my heart is being set on fire with an ember of affection. In one evening, he’s done more for me than I can say. He’s rekindled hope. I didn’t realize how close I really was to losing it.
In the movies, there’s some sort of magic found in a kiss, even more so around Christmastime. If a princess’s curse can be broken with a kiss, maybe my loneliness can be broken with one too. And maybe Jace is the one meant to change my future. My gaze returns to him, and my lungs expand with a new dream just from looking at him.
My next words are a surprise even to me. “Please . . . let me kiss you?” I ask, holding my breath as I wait for his answer and hoping he’ll meet me in the middle of this moment.
If Jace is surprised by my boldness, he doesn’t show it. Any man with an ego like the ones I’ve been surrounded by in the company would’ve laughed off my request. They would have given a smug smile or attempted a smolder to seal the deal and push my boundaries. Instead, he blinks rapidly a few times, ahint of moisture pooling near the edges as he gives a quick nod. And the sight of that nod alone is enough for me to lift on my toes, wrap my arms around his neck, and pull him toward me.
Jace doesn’t hesitate. Leaning down, he meets me, and the warmth of his full lips on mine reminds me of why I ever held out hope for a love that feels like coming home. It was this moment right here.
The clock in the Town Hall chimes. I haven’t heard it ring at this time of night in years. The sound feels like the world is affirming the magic that is unfolding for Jace and me with a sign echoing through the night. After a moment, we break apart, and his breath is warm and sweet against my face as he places a kiss on my nose.
Somehow, that move makes it the greatest kiss of my life. It was over far too quickly. And I know with all certainty that I don’t want to fall asleep tonight, still wondering what it would be like for him to initiate affection too. As if reading my mind, Jace leans down again. He pulls me even closer, one hand now on my waist as the other rests between my shoulder blades. In the lights of the ice rink, I study his face, the hint of red on the tips of his ears and the bridge of his nose matching the brightness of his lips. The evening flurries settle on his coat and nestle in his hair, melting when they reach his skin.
“Please, let me kiss you,” he declares into the night, repeating my words back to me as our combined breath swirls in the winter wind.
At the reverberation of his voice in my chest, my heart pulses to a changing rhythm. I bite my lip to contain my smile and give a nod as another chime rings through the brisk air.
He bends toward me, his nose nuzzling lightly against my own. Gently, he tips my head to one side. His palms have memorable calluses, and they brush across my skin as his hands cup my face. His fingers extend into my hairline, pulsing at thetop of my neck. With a sharp intake, I inhale, poignantly aware of the noisy world getting quieter and the sound of my heart getting louder. I close my eyes to focus on the sensation of his breath fanning my face and nearly gasp when his warm mouth meets mine once more.
The sensation is as perfect as a Christmas light turning on for the first time in the season. It’s a candle lighting a dark winter night. His lips press against mine as if he’s painting them with brushstrokes of devotion, cataloging the bow of my upper lip, the edges of my mouth that turn up when I really smile, and the dip of my lower lip whenever I want to cry.
Whereas our first kiss was tentative and careful, this kiss is wild and free. It’s laughter after a surprise. It’s an emotion you want to immortalize. When he pauses, I nearly whimper at the gush of frigid wind that replaces the warmth of his face. Before I dare to look at him, I swallow. Jace pulls back slightly, and I see his eyes are closed. A smile is on his face through his slightly swollen lips. When he opens his eyes, they track every aspect of my countenance.
I’m inordinately proud that I’m the reason he’s been affected in this way. Hands still holding my face, his thumbs glide slowly from the curve of my jaw to the soft spot beneath my ear as if he’s memorizing the feeling of it. A shiver moves through my spine, but my throat feels warm.
“I don’t want you to catch a chill. My body heat can only protect you so much in this New England weather.” He gives an adorable smirk, and I want to take a picture and frame it.
I can’t wait to tell Grey that I may finally understand why romance books are superior to all other books, because they have male heroes who will forever remind me of Jace.
“When can I see you again?” he says softly.
We must have more time.
“Tomorrow?” I ask as we look out to the ice rink before us. I imagine how it’ll look when it’s full again, with Christmas music blaring and families skating.
“Here?” he counters, a smile playing on his lips.
I nod. “Seven o’clock?”
“Okay, tomorrow at seven.”
And suddenly, I have a date tomorrow at seven. I’ll be counting down the minutes.
I wrap my arms tighter around him and peek up. His face is turned down to me, his arms holding my fragile frame up. I’m the glass ornament on the Christmas tree, and he’s the bear in the forest, yet somehow, I know I’ve never been so safe. I believe that every heartache I’ve ever felt may have been worth it if it led me here.
