Hundreds of faces were turned toward us, smiling and clapping.
Cameras flashed.
A news crew panned across the stage.
My legs locked, and I couldn't move.
Dr. Bradley's hand settled at the small of my back as he said, "Move, Ms. Harrison."
He guided me forward onto the stage and I had to lean on him for support.
My blood pressure had to have been so high.
My ears felt like balloons were inflating inside them, my palms so sweaty I rubbed them on my skirt.
A man with a microphone stood at center stage, his voice booming through the speakers.
"Ladies and gentlemen, it is my honor to present this year's Lightkeeper and Hearthkeeper—Dr. Nathan Bradley and Ember Harrison!"
More applause.
More cameras.
I felt bile rising in my throat.
I pressed a hand to my mouth and pressed my eyes shut.
Hopefully, that came across more like I was overwhelmed by the sheer honor of this and not the reality of swallowing back nerves.
The man continued his speech, talking about tradition and community and the sacred responsibility of the Lightkeeper to guide Beacon Hill through fall into the holiday season.
Everything was a blur—the speech, the singing of some random song I knew none of the words to, and when someone wobbled up the steps with a huge sprig of mistletoe on the end of a long pole, I froze.
"Now, in Christmas tradition, the Lightkeeper and Hearthkeeper must share a kiss under the mistletoe to cement the magic of the season!"
My entire body went cold.
The crowd started chanting, "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" and Dr. Bradley turned toward me just as happy and calm as ever while inside, I was screaming for this whole thing to stop.
One of his hands snaked around to my lower back, the other still clinging to his key, and he stooped to press his lips to mine.
There were a dozen things I could've done to stop this, but I was paralyzed, rooted to the stage, and when his mouth touched mine, the world stopped.
The instant his lips brushed mine, electricity exploded on my skin.
And it wasn't just a peck, either.
Nate Bradley pulled my body toward himself while I clung helplessly to the lapels of his ridiculous velvet robe and whimpered into his mouth.
When his mouth opened and I felt his tongue brush my lower lip, desire surged in my chest and down to my groin, and I found myself leaning into it.
I got lightheaded again, clutching his robe so tightly, I would fall over if I let go, and I swear I heard him growl low in his chest under the din of chaos around us.
He pulled back slowly, his eyes searching mine, and I saw the same shock I felt mirrored in his expression.
Those pale blue orbs danced from my lips to my eyes and back, while his hand lingered at my back, his thumb brushing against the velvet of my gown.
It was breathtaking, and probably lasted way too long, us staring at each other in stunned silence while the festival carried on around us.
