“I know, but…” I hold up both my gloved hands, spreading my fingers and waving them from side-to-side. “I have all of them. It’s alright. Let’s go have that cocoa you promised.”
He gives me a curt nod before turning back towards the terrified kid who is probably fifteen and close to passing out from fear. If his trembling body and cowering stance where any indication.
“Wall! Now!” Ryatt points towards the wall again. The kid ducks his head before quickly skating off in the direction Ryatt pointed.
Alright Mr. Protective. Not sure if I find this barbaric behavior a red flag or a turn on. But for now, I’m going to go with both.
We sit down on the same bench as before and, just like last time, he doesn’t hesitate to pick up my leg and remove my skate for me. I don’t think anyone has taken my shoes off for me since I was a small child, and it was one of my parents.
But I don’t feel like he’s belittling me when he does it. Instead, it feels more like someone taking care of you in small, tender ways.
He offers me his hand again, pulling me up, and wrapping my arm around his elbow as we walk over to the hot cocoa stand. It doesn’t even look as though it belongs in a city full of concrete, metal, and smog. Its quaint size, wooden siding, and small chimney out of the top, give off mountain vibes. The sweet as candy barista serving the drinks? She should audition for an elf in a Christmas movie.
After grabbing two hot cocoas topped with whipped cream and chunks of chocolate, Ryatt snatches two peppermint sticks on his way over to where I’m standing. He nods his head towards one of the empty tables, and we sit down together. I dunk my peppermint stick into my drink at the same moment he does his, and we both chuckle at each other before taking that first, amazing sip. You know the one that you can feel going all the way down, warming every single inch of you as it goes. It’s honestly the best sip of the entire experience.
I look up to find Ryatt’s nose has a bit of whipped cream on it. Leaning over, I swipe it off his nose and hold my finger up as evidence. We both laugh as he takes a napkin and wipes his nose over and over.
My tongue peeks out, and I lick the whipped cream from my glove, and his eyes widen.
“Did you just lick that off your glove?” He asks, his eyes widening in astonishment.
I nod my head curtly. “I did, and it was delicious.”
He laughs darkly, his voice deepening. “I’ve got something you can lick whipped cream off of.” He says it so plainly, so bluntly that I can’t help but laugh. It bursts out of me like a cough and doesn’t stop until I’m clutching my side and begging for it to end.
The laughter around us fades into something quieter, something heavier in the best way—a silence filled with snowflakes and unspoken words as we both stare at each other. His eyes are still on me—calculating and considering as he marks every tick and nuance. That same little curve of his lips is on his face—the one that makes me forget the world around us, and that we aren’t alone.
I sip my cocoa again, my eyes watching him over the rim of the cup. The sweetness fills my mouth, lingering its sugarary chocolatness on my tongue as I watch him as closely as he watches me. “You’re staring,” I murmur, unable to look away even though I called him out for the same thing.
He leans in closer, his breath shifting the steam over the top of my cup. “Can’t help it. You look how Christmas feels to me. Warm, loving, and something I wish to spend my day doing.”
My heart somersaults, and my libido takes off for the races. I blink, unsure if I understood him correctly. “That’s…dangerous talk coming from someone who has been yelling at teens all night.”
His grin widens, and it’s in that moment that I know I’m ruined. He could ask me to streak through Central Park naked, and I would, because he asked. “Guess I’m full of contradictions.”
“Guess so,” I whisper, smiling despite myself.
The air electrifies between us again—that same magnetic pull from earlier returning with a vengeance. It’s determined to accomplish something as the tugging in my chest pulls harder than before. I don’t even know what it is, or what it means. All I know is it’s pulling me towards him, comforting me in the decision to lean into this, and ensuring me it’s okay to let my walls down for him.
He reaches out, brushing a snowflake from my hair. When his fingers trail down the side of my face, cupping my chin, I swear I hear the faint sound of bells tinkling. It’s soft, almost familiar, as if I’ve heard it all my life and know what it means. Its tinkling sound floats through the air like the laughter of children.
I glance around, half expecting to see something, someone, but there’s nothing there. Save for the glowing lights, the smell of cocoa, and Ryatt’s eyes holding me steady. He quirks an eyebrow when my eyes come back to his, and I have no idea what to say. Would he even believe me if I told him what I had just experienced?
He clears his throat softly, almost like he can feel it too. “Come on,” he says, tipping his head toward the path. “Let’s get you home before you end up a snowman.”
I snort into my cocoa. “Now that is a possibility at this rate.” As if on cue, the snow falls harder, almost blanketing the air in white.
I slip my hand into his, and the world tilts again. Not from falling, or maybe it is, but the kind of falling that alters your life for the better.
As we walk hand-in-hand through the falling snow, with Christmas carols singing in the distance, and the soft chiming of brass bells, I can’t help thinking that maybe this year’s Christmas won’t end in disaster after all.
I have a feeling that this year, one of my wishes will finally be answered.
Chapter Seven
Oh, Deer
Ryatt
