I glance aroundfor Bea, not wanting Cole to see the war of emotions playing out onmy face. Sadness, indecision, the desire to ask him to stick aroundfor just a bit longer. Or maybe even the whole night. “I’ll go findBea and ask her for the check.”
“Ialready took care of it when you were in the bathroom,” he says.“Happy birthday, Sylvie. And Merry Christmas and…thank you. Foreverything.”
Heatfloods my cheeks, although I have no idea why. Better that thantears flooding my eyes, I suppose. “Thankyou.I had a great time with youtoday.”
“I didtoo,” he says. “Can I walk you to your car?”
I think aboutreturning home to my quiet apartment. Putting on my pajamas andcuddling with Milo in front of the TV. Trying not to think abouthow abandoned I feel by Mindy or how much I like Cole, who I’llprobably never see again. “I think I’ll head to the gallery downthe street, actually. It’s in the opposite direction from thegarage, so…”
“I’dlike to walk with you anyway if that’s okay.”
At my nod, weclimb from the booth and don our coats. I wave to Bea, who’s nowstanding behind the front counter. She waves back, shooting me awink. I’m sure she’ll have a million questions the next time I seeher.
I lead the wayinto the cold, clear night, inhaling deeply and watching my breathpuff out in a cloud of white. Without a word, we turn in thedirection of the gallery and walk side by side, both of us with ourhands stuffed in the pockets of our coats.
From the corner ofmy eye, I see Cole glancing around at the lights strung on everysurface and the evergreens in front of all the businesses liningthe street.
“Isthis evoking your Christmas hate-on?” I ask.
“Nah,it’s not so bad. One of Santa’s elves helped me see the error of myways. Andwow,that’s a sentence I never thought would come out of mymouth.”
I laugh and hechuckles along with me. He frees his hands from his pockets andcatches my sleeve, pulling me to a stop. I turn to face him,sliding my hands from my own pockets and feeling a little thrillwhen he reaches for them and grips them both loosely.
“Idon’t want to leave,” he says quietly, all traces of humor fadingfrom his expression.
“Idon’t want you to leave either.”
“I wishI could suggest we exchange numbers and see where this might go,but I don’t think that’d be fair to either of us. Long distancesucks, even if itisonly two hours, and I’m still kind of reeling from everythingwith my ex…”
“It’sokay, I get it.” I contemplate asking him to stay. To come to thegallery with me and then maybe get a drink afterward, then go backto my place to spend the night. That thought has a completelydifferent thrill zipping through me, one that causes warm tingleslow in my belly.
But Cole wouldhave to return to Toronto in the morning regardless. Who knows whatcomplicating things with intimacy would do to my heart, which isalready feeling a bit bruised. At least if he leaves now, I’ll beleft with the memories of this wonderful day. Being with Cole hasstirred up so many long-forgotten feelings. It’s also stirred upthat growing sense of loneliness, which has shown me it’s time tomake some changes in my life. At least now I realize the connectionI crave is possible because I feel it with him, even if it’sfleeting.
His grip tightenson mine, and I realize I’ve been completely spaced out, staring atour joined hands. I look at him now and his face is turned up, eyestrained on something above us. “Is that mistletoe?”
I follow his gazeto the greenery attached to the light post above us. “Actually, Ithink it’s holly.”
When my eyes dropback to his, he’s watching me. I don’t remember moving, but somehowwe’re standing closer. It’s like our bodies are magnetized, drawingus together. I can feel his warm breath on my face and the heat ofhis body only inches from mine.
“Can wepretend it’s mistletoe?” he asks.
The words aresoft, barely above a whisper. When I sway closer, he releases myhands to wrap his arms around my waist. The few remaining inchesbetween us disappear as he pulls me against him. His lips hover abreath away from mine, as if waiting for me to give consent. Ratherthan speaking, I lift up on my toes and press my mouth tohis.
The kiss is softand exploratory, sweet and lingering. I forget about the chill ofthe night and the people on the sidewalk up ahead. I forget abouteverything but the two of us, enjoying our last few momentstogether before going our separate ways.
When our lipspart, Cole rests his forehead against mine, sighing softly.“Maybe…maybe I could…or we could…”
I press my lips tohis briefly to cut off his words. “As much as I hate to say this, Ithink we should say good night here. We both have a lot going onand, like you said, long distance sucks.”
His arms are stillaround me, his hands sliding up and down my back over my coat. Iwish I could wiggle my nose and make the thick material disappearso I’d know what it feels like to have his hands on my bareskin.
“You’reprobably right.” With another sigh, he releases me and takes a stepback. The air suddenly feels several degrees colder. I draw my coattighter around me, and he does the same.
“Whoknows, we might run into each other again someday,” I say. “Youwere supposed to have another elf show you around the Villagetoday. And then we met again when I thought you’d already behalfway back to Toronto. MaybeTheBuzzwill send you back this way sometimenext year and we’ll run into each other again.”
“Ormaybe we’ll both end up at the Festival of Lights at the same timenext year.”
“Right,you never know.” Despite the grins on both our faces, I can feelmine wavering around the edges. It’s a nice thought, but I think weboth know it’ll never happen. Still, we’ll always have this oneperfect day, and I’m certain I’ll pull up memories of Coleoften.
