The blanket is thin, the fire is low, and the floor is hard as hell…but Sutton is warm against me, her cheek resting on my chest, her leg thrown over mine like she owns the spot.
My hand moves in slow circles along her back.
Silence settles around us—not awkward, not heavy. Just… right.
I don’t want to break whatever this is.
I glance down. “Hey.”
She hums without lifting her head. “Hello?”
“What if you stayed here until you leave for Italy? You know… New Year’s?” I ask quietly.
She goes still. Just for a moment. Then she looks up at me.
“I thought you wanted me to leave on Christmas Day.”
I shrug. “Plans change.”
“Uh-huh.” Her eyes narrow. “Just tell me you’re liking my company. Say it with your whole chest.”
I scoff. “That’s crazy. I barely tolerate you.”
She taps my chest. “Lies.”
“Okay—maybe I tolerate you a little more than I thought.”
She smirks. “Mhm. More like you’re obsessed. My pussy had you weak.”
“Don’t push it, Shortcake,” I mutter, covering my mouth before she sees me smile.
She grins and settles back down on my chest, her fingers tracing slow shapes over my shirt.
After a moment, I clear my throat. “If you go to Italy… will you keep in touch?”
She pauses.
The silence stretches.
I didn’t even think silence could get heavier between us. But it does.
Right when my stomach twists tight, she suddenly sits up, eyes locked on something behind me.
“Wait—are those lights?” Sutton gasps.
I whip my head toward the window.
Red and green glimmers flicker faintly through the snow-packed glass.
“What time is it?” I ask.
She grabs her phone. “It’s one a.m.”
“It can’t be…” I mutter.
I grab a shirt and crawl closer to the window. Sutton follows, shoulder pressed to mine.
Outside, colors dance against the snow—dim but clearly there.
