“Me too. Driving in this shit on the mountain roads isn’t for the weak.”
“Tell me about it. It’s freezing, so have a good night. Thanks for walking me home.”
“You’re welcome.” Nash’s eyes fell to my lips and his hands landed on my hips.
What is happening…
No wait…
Yes please…
And then, with the falling snow behind us, the cold forgotten, our breath keeping us warm, we kissed, there under the moonlight.
Down…
Down…
Down…I fell.
I couldn’t fall asleep.
I sat on my couch, in my pajamas, a blanket wrapped around me, as I watched the snow fall. My Christmas tree twinkled in the background, the only light in the room, the only sound from the swish, swish of the snow hitting the ground and the occasional howl of the wind.
My hands wrapped around a cup of lukewarm coffee, wanting to chase off any hangover I might have in the morning.
The kiss replayed in my mind.
Over and over.
The feel of his lips against mine. The way his tongue dove inside. The way his fingers gripped my waist, begging and pleading for more.
I almost did it. I almost opened the door and beckoned him inside. But I stopped myself.
Giving a guy sex right away always led me down the wrong path. With Nash, I wanted it to be different. Hewasdifferent. Hefeltdifferent.
But now, crashing down from the wine, and replaying the events in my head, left me lost.
After texting Pip, she told me to take it slow. See where it led. Have a thousand steak dinners before deciding anything.
And she was right.
Any guy worth my time would wait. Which made me believe Nash would, too.
So why couldn’t I stop obsessing over the night, over our kiss?
Why couldn’t I settle my mind down and go to sleep?
The clock next to my TV read eleven o’clock. With a deep breath, I forced myself to push my blanket aside and stand up. I shuffled my way to the kitchen, dropped my mug in the sink, and made my way upstairs.
When my foot landed on the top step, a knock sounded on my door and I froze, terror running through me like an icicle down my back.
It’s the wind. It has to be. No one knocks on your door after eleven at night…
But the sound came again. I clutched my phone in my pj pants pocket with one hand while tugging my sweater closed tighter with my other. I turned around on the stairs and slowly climbed back down them. I moved towards my front door whenknock!the sound came again. I jumped and almost let out a scream.
Peering through the peephole, a snow-covered Nash stood there, his hat halfway off the side of his head. I yanked the door open, and he hurried inside, a blast of chilly air following him along with a gust of snowy wind. I quickly closed it and turned to face him.
“Nash? What the hell are you doing here?”
