“Well,” he says, a bit breathlessly, “I guess wishes do come true.”
I laugh, touching my forehead to his. “Maybe I was wrong about the Wishing Tree after all.”
He hums contentedly, pressing closer. “Or maybe some things are worth breaking the rules for.”
I can’t argue with that logic, especially not when he’s looking at me like this, snowflakes melting on his eyelashes and his lips still pink from our kiss. “We should probably go inside,” I suggest, though I make no move to release him. “Before we freeze.”
“Probably,” he agrees, but instead of stepping back, he rises up slightly to press another soft kiss to my lips. “Though I’m feeling pretty warm right now.”
I groan softly, tightening my grip on his waist. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”
“Says the man who drove me to the Wishing Tree on a snowy evening,” he teases, finally pulling back just enough to meet my eyes. “No more being responsible?”
“Maybe we can find a balance,” I suggest, stealing one last quick kiss before reluctantly letting him go. “Between responsible and reckless.”
As we part ways to our respective doors, the snow falling gently around us, I catch him looking back at me with a smile that makes my heart skip. Maybe there’s something to this wishing business after all.
CHAPTER 16
CASPIAN
I close my front door and lean against it, my heart still racing and my lips tingling from Nate’s kisses. For a moment, I just stand there in the dark entryway, touching my fingers to my mouth and grinning like an idiot. The house is quiet except for my slightly uneven breathing, and I can still feel the ghost of his hands on my waist and in my hair.
“Fuck, you kiss well, Nathan Stone,” I whisper to myself.
I fumble for the light switch, blinking as warm light floods the room. My coat is still dusted with melting snow, and I shrug it off, hanging it up with hands that aren’t quite steady. The entire evening feels dreamlike— Lottie’s birthday party, the Wishing Tree, and then…that kiss. Those kisses, plural, my brain helpfully corrects.
I’m halfway to the kitchen when my phone starts blaring “Walking on Sunshine”—Marcus’s personally selected ringtone. The timing is so perfect I almost laugh out loud. Of course my best friend would somehow sense that my carefully constructed world just tilted on its axis.
“You’re alive!” Marcus’s voice booms through the speaker before I can even say hello. “I was starting to think you’d frozen solid in that small-town winter wonderland of yours.”
“I’m fine,” I say, unable to keep the smile out of my voice. “Just been busy with the coffee shop.”
“Busy? Cas, it’s been radio silence since you left Phoenix. I was about to send out a search party.” There’s a pause, and I can practically hear the gears turning in his head. “Wait a minute. What’s wrong with your voice?”
“Nothing’s wrong with my voice,” I protest, but even I can hear the breathless quality in my words.
“Oh my god.” Marcus’s tone shifts from accusatory to delighted in an instant. “You met someone.”
“I did not?—”
“Don’t even try to lie to me, Caspian James Lane. I’ve known you since we were twelve. That’s yourI just got kissed and I’m trying not to be obvious about itvoice.”
I sink onto my couch, running a hand through my snow-damp hair. “How do I even have a specific voice for that?”
“Because you’re transparent as hell when you’re into someone. Remember that guy from college? What was his name? Elijah. You sounded exactly like this after your first date.” Marcus’s smugness radiates through the phone. “So, spill. Who is he? Please tell me it’s not some flannel-wearing lumberjack type.”
I bite my lip, thinking of Nate’s perfectly fitted sweater from tonight. “He’s…not exactly a lumberjack.”
“But there is a he! I knew it!” Marcus crows triumphantly. “Details. Now. And don’t you dare try to change the subject.”
“It’s complicated,” I hedge, even as my eyes drift to the window, where I can just make out the warm glow of lights from Nate’s house. “He’s my neighbor, actually.”
“Your neighbor?” Marcus’s voice rises an octave. “Hold up! You move to small-town USA and immediately fall for the guy next door? This is getting more Hallmark by the minute.”
I groan, sliding farther down into the couch cushions. “He’s… Well, he’s a forest product technician. And he was definitely off-limits. Is off-limits. Was. I don’t even know anymore.”
“A what now?” Marcus asks. “What the hell is a forest product technician?”
