We end up near the center of the market, where strings of fairy lights are draped overhead in a canopy of twinkling gold. An acoustic guitarist is playing “Silent Night,” and a few couples are swaying together despite the lack of a dance floor.
“Dance with me,” Alessandro says suddenly.
“Here? Now?”
“Why not? You wanted normal.” He pulls me closer, one hand on my waist, the other still holding mine. “This is normal.”
“You’re full of surprises tonight.”
“Good surprises?”
“The best kind.”
We sway together, not quite in time with the music, surrounded by strangers and Christmas lights and the soft fall of snowflakes that have started drifting down from the dark sky.
“It’s snowing,” I whisper, tipping my head back to watch the flakes spiral down.
“So it is.”
When I look back at him, he’s not watching the snow. He’s watching me, his expression soft in a way I’ve never seen before.
“What?” I ask.
“You’re beautiful.” He reaches up and brushes a snowflake from my eyelash. “You’re standing here in the snow with a stuffed penguin tucked under your arm, covered in hot chocolate and smiling like this is the best night of your life, and you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
My breath catches. “Alessandro—”
“I’m going to kiss you now.” His voice is low, intimate. “If that’s okay.”
“More than okay,” I breathe.
He leans down slowly, giving me time to pull away if I want to. But I don’t want to. I rise up on my toes to meet him halfway, my free hand curling into his coat.
When his lips meet mine, the entire world narrows to this moment. This man. This kiss.
It’s nothing like the desperate, hurried kiss in my apartment. This is slow, deep and thorough, as though he’s memorizing the taste of me. His hand slides into my hair, tilting my head to deepen the angle. I make a small sound in the back of my throat, and he responds by pulling me impossibly closer.
Someone whistles nearby, and I vaguely register we’re making a scene. But I don’t care. Nothing exists except Alessandro’s mouth on mine, his hand in my hair, the solid warmth of his body against mine.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard. Snowflakes have collected in his dark hair, and his lips are slightly swollen from kissing me.
“Wow,” I whisper.
“Wow,” he agrees.
The guitarist has moved on to “White Christmas,” and the world has resumed spinning. But something has shifted between us. Something permanent and important and terrifying in the best way.
“Elena,” he starts, his voice rough with emotion.
The crack of a gunshot shatters the moment.
Everything happens in a rush. Alessandro’s body slams into mine, taking me down to the cold ground. His weight crushes me, protective and immovable. Around us, people are screaming, running, chaos erupting like a bomb went off.
“Stay down,” Alessandro growls in my ear. “Don’t move.”
My mind can’t process what’s happening. One second, we were kissing under fairy lights. Now we’re on the ground,Alessandro covering me completely, and people are running and screaming and—
Another shot. Closer this time.
