They walked the rest of the way hand in hand, snowflakes drifting around them as though they were in the world’s quietest snow globe.
When they reached the back door of the bakery, neither moved to let go.
Noah gave him a searching gaze. “Can I see you tonight? Not for…youknow. Unless you want. I just—I want more time with you.”
Eli swallowed, his chest suddenly tight. “I want that too.”
Obvious relief flooded Noah’s face. He leaned in, not for a deep kiss, but a soft, lingering one. A good-morning kiss.
Athis-matterskiss.
When Noah pulled back, he didn’t retreat too far. “Text me when you thaw out?”
“I will.”
“And…” Noah hesitated. “If anything feels overwhelming today… tell me? We’ll figure it out together.”
Together.
The word was both a spark and a balm.
Eli nodded. “Okay.”
Noah squeezed his hand one more time before letting go.
“See you tonight, Eli.”
“Tonight,” Eli echoed.
He watched Noah turn and walk away, snow dusting his shoulders, his hoodie pulled tight against the cold. Then he was gone.
There were a thousand things Eli didn’t know yet, so many things he had yet to figure out. What tugged at his heart, however, was the sketchbook sitting in his duffel back at Aileen’s place, waiting.
But right then, he knew a couple of things for certain.
Last night wasn’t a mistake.
This morning wasn’t awkward.
And whatever this was—whatever it wasbecoming—it felt like something bright was beginning, as bright as the snow that surrounded him.
The second he stepped through the bakery’s back door, Aileen’s eyebrows shot up like fireworks.
“Oh. You made it home then.”
Eli attempted a neutral expression that probably failed. “Morning.”
Aileen glanced at his heated cheeks. “I hope it was a good morning at least.”
More heat blossomed, spreading up his neck.
“Were you safe?”
“Aileen,” he interjected. “I ambeggingyou to stop talking.”
She grinned. “Fine. Your hair looks nice.”
He ran a self-conscious hand through it.
