Maddie is chatting about cookie cutters and how it ties into the current neighborhood gossip, but I can barely hear her. My skin feels too tight. My thumb hovers over the screen.
Me: You’ll have to catch me first.
I hit send before I can stop myself, then tuck my phone against my cider mug like nothing happened.
I glance up. He’s still by the counter, smiling down at his phone. He lifts his gaze, his eyes settling on mine, and he flashes me that look, the one I told him about last night. He drags his teeth over his bottom lip, his eyes shamelessly undressing me, and my knees nearly buckle.
“Hailey, come help me grab more napkins!” Maddie shouts, already pushing toward the dining room.
Saved by the Christmas elf.
I follow her, squeezing between people, pretending like my face isn’t on fire. Every time I pass a reflective surface, I catch the same look on myself, cheeks flushed, eyes bright, mouth a little too soft. It’s the look of a horny woman who needs to be dicked down before she loses her mind.
The dining room table is a sugar bomb. Cookies half-decorated, frosting tubs open, sprinkles everywhere. Marla is singing along to “Santa Baby” like it’s an audition. Jim’s telling a story about a busted snowblower.
And right there, hung perfectly in the doorway leading back to the living room, is a sprig of mistletoe.
“Maddie,” I hiss, setting down the napkins. “You guys have two of these this year?”
She grins. “Three, actually. Mom’s on a mission this year. Something about spreading Christmas cheer through ‘healthy affection.’”
“Oh my God,” I groan, but she’s already gone, sliding between guests to hand out more cider.
I turn and nearly slam into Cole.
“Hi,” he murmurs, low enough that only I can hear.
“Hi,” I echo.
“Enjoying yourself?” His gaze dips to my mouth.
“Trying to.”
His lips twitch. “You sure? You look a little… frustrated.”
I swallow hard. “We are surrounded by your entire family.”
“Yeah.” He leans in just enough that his breath skims my neck. “Makes it more fun.” He steps back slowly, then looks up, nodding toward the ceiling. “Mistletoe.”
Laughter erupts from somewhere behind us, and Maddie yells, “Oh, come on, someone’s gotta kiss under it!”
My heart stops. I shake my head. “Nope. Not a chance.”
Cole smirks, voice low. “You heard her.”
Everyone’s preoccupied laughing and he leans closer, whispering in my ear. “You’re lucky I play nice in front of an audience.”
Then, just to torture me, he brushes his knuckles along my arm. “Merry Christmas, Hailey.”
I step out from under the mistletoe before I combust and make a beeline away from the crowd. But when I finally sneak a glance across the room, Cole’s already looking at me again, thumbs moving on his phone.
Cole: Meet me upstairs. Ten minutes.
I stare at the message, heat flooding my entire body. My fingers tremble as I type back.
Me: We shouldn’t.
The reply comes instantly.
