“Then why are your hands like ice?” he asked, tugging them back to blow on again.
I glanced across the gazebo, eyes landing on the mistletoe.
“I like you better than her.”Archer’s words replayed as I stared at the symbol of true love.
The friction of our hands as he rubbed them together created a spark, a spark that turned me brave.
“Guess there’s a little life left in you after all,” Archer said, finally letting go of my hands and stepping back.
I stared at him without a word until he cleared his throat and tucked his hands into his pockets. “Guess we should be going.”
He turned and disappeared behind the tree. Shoving away from the railing, I went after him, noting the way the lights made his hair seem gold.
“Archer.”
He stopped.
Turned.
Neither of us spoke a word, but even without words, there was something. Something bigger. Even though it was unspoken, it was there, swirling between us. Something that felt so big in that moment, something so alive there was no way I could ignore it.
His eyes flickered when I started forward. At his sides, his hands flexed. I bulldozed right into him, arms around his shoulders, and pushed him back.
The buzzing between my ears was so loud that I heard nothing else as my lips brushed against his. My entire body began to sing… only to be cut short by a loud thump.
Shocked, I glanced around, realizing the loud thump was me and I was on my ass in the gazebo.
I pushed up onto my elbows as Archer stared down from above, his face unreadable and closed off.
“Archer, I…” I started, panic flooding my limbs at rapid speed.
He made a slashing motion with his hand, and I fell quiet and watched in utter horror as he lifted his arm and swiped it over his lips.
The lips I’d just tried to kiss.
He scrubbed them down his arm and the back of his hand before letting it fall to his side. “What the hell was that?” he demanded.
“I don’t know. I-I…” Oh my God, what the hell had I been thinking?
I hadn’t. I’d been feeling.
My mom always told me to never be sorry for what I felt because my feelings were my feelings.
But I was sorry now. So sorry.
“Archer, I didn’t mean…” I faltered.
“To kiss me?” He finished.
I swallowed.
“Why?” he demanded.
I looked up.
“Why would you do that?”
If my heart beat any harder, it would shatter. As it was, my chest was likely already bruised. Moments ago, when I’d lookedat that mistletoe hanging there and promising true love and then felt the… well, whatever I felt in the air around us?—
