Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

December 24, 11:49 pm

JACK

N essa’s idea to stuff stockings for each other has been the perfect distraction. She suggested that we fill them with random objects that carry some kind of meaning, and we’ll open them together in the morning.

The only problem? My apartment is a barren wasteland and I’m struggling to find anything decent to put in hers.

Also, it’s pitch dark and freezing in here. Armed with one of Nessa’s emergency flashlights, I’m rummaging around my place, searching for anything that might bring a smile to her face. For some reason, it feels important that I get this right. And not just because she’s been so generous, letting me hang out with her during the power outage.

But because of this…whatever it is between us. The simmering attraction I can’t ignore. I tried to stay on my side of the couch while we were talking, but I kept catching myself shifting toward her, pulled by some magnetic force. And every time, the same thought kept popping in my head :

How would she react if I kissed her?

Do not kiss her, I order myself as I sift through my dresser drawers. What if these sparks I’m feeling are just delusional hopes fueled by the wine and good conversation, plus how kind she’s being (and yes, how pretty she is) on a miserable night? I would feel like garbage for overstepping.

But if she kissed me…I’d kiss her back in a heartbeat. No question.

Fifteen minutes later, I’ve managed to gather a few things for her stocking, though I’m not at all sure they’ll be good enough. But the compression sock is bulging and I’m officially frozen, my toes numb, my nose stinging from the cold.

When I open the door to Nessa’s apartment, it’s like stepping into a hug from the world’s coziest sweater. She’s by the fireplace, hanging the other sock on the mantle with a removable sticky hook; there’s an empty hook next to it.

She turns, smiling, but her expression falters when she sees my face. “What happened?”

“So. Cold.” I shiver, hurrying over to the fire for the second time this evening.

She takes the sock from me and hangs it next to the other one. Then she grabs a blanket from the sofa, and for a second, I think she’s going to toss it my way.

But then she stops, wraps the blanket around herself, and opens it up like she’s inviting me to come inside.

“You need to warm up,” she says, almost shyly.

I don’t need any more encouragement. I step closer, and she wraps the blanket around us both, sealing us in a cozy cocoon. Her head tucks under my chin, and my arms find their way around her, pulling her closer.

Relaxation rushes through me, like a tightly wound knot slowly loosening in my chest. She feels so good. Curvy, soft, and warm, like she was made to fit right here. I press my nose to the top of her head, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair. I haven’t been this close to another human in months. The last hug I got was probably from my mom before I left on the plane here.

My eyes sting, and I blink furiously. No way in hell am I letting the prettiest woman I’ve met in ages see what a fucking mess I am right now.

“Better?” she asks, her voice muffled against my chest.

“Much better. Should’ve done this hours ago, though.”

She laughs, and her breath tickles my neck, sending a pleasant shiver down my spine. “Do you want to go sit on the couch again?”

“Hmmm.” I pretend to consider that. “I mean, I would, but I’m worried that if I let go of you to move over there, I might freeze.”

She lets out another laugh. “We’ll just have to stay wrapped up in the blanket, then.”

Together, we shuffle over to the couch, our feet tangling in the blanket as we struggle to make it without tripping. When my legs hit the sofa, I fall backward in an awkward heap, pulling Nessa with me. She squeals, and I laugh, shifting around to lie on my back—and nearly rolling her off the edge.

“Watch out,” I say, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her back.

I expect her to sit up, put some space between us, but instead she curls a little closer, resting her cheek carefully on my chest.

“This okay?” she murmurs, tucking the blanket around us.

An unexpected vision slams into me: holding her like this, with nothing between us—no cozy sweaters, no blankets, just skin on skin. I swallow, shaking that thought away, and put an inch of space between our bodies so it’s just her head on my chest, my arm around her shoulders. “Yeah. It’s great.”

We settle into a comfortable silence, listening to the fire crackling in the background and the sound of each other’s breathing. The warmth of her body radiating toward mine, the blanket around us—I could stay like this forever, suspended in this quiet, peaceful moment.

“So, I’m thinking,” she says after a bit. “You should probably sleep here tonight.”

My heart swoops like I’ve just stepped off a cliff, but I force myself to sound casual. “As long as you’re okay with that.”

“I mean, what would I tell your mom if you froze to death on Christmas?”

“Guess that would make for a pretty awkward phone call.”

My hands ache with the urge to touch her—to trace the curve of her waist, to cup her jaw and pull her lips to mine. But she seems content to stay just like we are, so I force myself to hold still, to ride out the tension that builds and subsides in waves.

All too soon, my eyelids grow heavy. The world beyond the firelight fades away, and with it, all the pressure, the exhaustion, the noise of my regular life.

And without realizing it, I drift off to sleep