I grinned beneath my scarf, which was wrapped over my mouth. It was that cold. “Sure.” Then, not sure if he heard me correctly, I held out my mittened hand to him. He clasped it in his own thickly cover hand.
Electrical currents ran through me at that touch despite the knitted thickness between our palms.
I breathed in the cold air, but everything felt warm. That’s what Aspen did for me. Heated me up from the inside out.
The manager finished his speech. “Light the tree,” he shouted.
The tree flickered. Suddenly it exploded with color. Rainbows lines chased each other over the curves of the pine. White lights like giant pieces of glitter blazed. Big silver ornaments reflected the light back on itself. It was blinding. And gorgeous.
Canned music began. It wasDeck the Halls. Just then, large snowflakes began to fall slowly from the sky.
The crowd murmured. Some people shouted, “Merry Christmas!”
Aspen and I looked at each other. “That was totally worth it,” he said.
“It’s magical.”
“’Tis the season of miracles.”
I already had one. Aspen himself. His hand in mine.
The festivities movedto the warmth of the hotel’s main lobby. Music played. There was a small band on a stage. The bar was overflowing; the restaurant had a forty-five-minute wait.
We checked our parkas, scarves, caps and mittens with the bell-hop and put our name on the dinner list. Then we grabbed ciders from the bar and hung out by the indoor Christmas tree watching people laugh and dance.
“Do you dance?” I asked.
“Not since college,” he replied.
I held out my hand to him and bowed. “Come on.”
“How’s your back?”
“It’s just fine.” In truth, I had a little tenderness. Nothing to complain about.
Aspen didn’t hesitate to touch his fingers to mine. I led him a few feet away from the tree and we swayed. The music was upbeat, our hands dropped, and we bounced around for a while. I wasn’t great at it but for once in my life I didn’t care. What mattered was Aspen moving in front of me. Smiling.
The band played a slower tune. We froze, looked at each other, and I held out my arms. Aspen walked right into them.
I put my arms around his shoulders, lightly. At the same time, hands rested on either side of my waist. I tested my boundaries by pulling him a little closer. He went with it until our chests touched.
He was light on his feet as we swayed. His head came closer to mine until his hair almost touched my cheek. My body thrilled at the closeness. I wanted the song to never end.
I moved my palm down one shoulder to the center of his back. Touching him through his sweater at that spot began to arouse me. I held pure, sweet omega. I wanted to whirl him about the lobby and all the way back to the cabin.
When my phone buzzed in my back pocket, I ignored it. The song ended and I finally looked. I saw we’d been summoned early for our table in the restaurant. As hungry as I was, I couldn’t help but be disappointed.
“Our table’s ready. Thank you for the dance.” I bowed at Aspen.
He laughed. “Thank you.”
If I walked funny, it wasn’t because of my back. Not anymore.
With Christmas decorations gleaming in our eyes, we ate slowly, talking a lot about every subject we could think of.
On our walk back to the cabin, we held hands under frozen starlight.
Back in the cabin I built a fire. Before it, we toasted the holiday together with a fresh, cold bottle of wine. If miracles happened more this time of year, I couldn’t have asked fora better one: spending this season with my new dear friend, Aspen.
