Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Caroline

F ireworks explode behind my eyes. Calvin's lips are on mine, his arms around me and I'm immediately warm. His kiss is slow and deep, tasting of barbecue sauce. Smoky, delicious.

Heat rushes from my face, down my neck, through my entire body. He's like my own personal furnace. The mix of freezing air and the heat coming off Calvin is intoxicatingly sensual.

My mind goes blank until he pulls away. My eyes remain closed as I linger in an alternate universe. One free of lawyers' offices, family drama, fundraiser crises, Evie leaving again?—

I open my eyes, meeting Calvin's. His pupils are dilated, his breath coming out like steam released from a pressure cooker. His expression shows a mix of afterglow and wonder, as if the kiss was as much a surprise to him as to me.

He's also vibrating.

Before I can figure out what is happening. Calvin looks down and steps back, the spell broken.

He clears his throat. "Sorry. I'm being paged."

Only now do I hear a soft, persistent buzz.

Part of my brain is still in the kiss zone. "I didn't know people still used pagers," I say, trying to recalibrate.

He nods, his gaze now shifting away from mine. "Much more reliable form of communication."

Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer had a very shiny nose

The stark change in music is like a flipped switch, sparking a rush of conflicting emotions that surge within me, uncertainty creeping in. I'm suddenly aware of our surroundings—the faint hum of an idling car, a screeching hawk soaring overhead. The outside world intrudes, reminding me of reality.

My heart races, caught between the thrill of what just happened and the fear of what it might bring. I wonder if we've crossed a line that can't be uncrossed. I think of the complications, the family drama with Bernard's kids, the likelihood that soon I'll be the very definition of house poor. The intensity of the kiss lingers, battling the cold grip of doubt.

As if in a trance, we walk back to the car, an awkward silence settling between us even as my mouth still tingles. The snow is coming down more steadily now. Calvin cranks up the heat but it's blowing out cold and all I want is to be warm once more. In his arms.

I steal a glance at his profile. His jaw is set tight, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little too firmly. What is going through his head? I fidget with the hem of my coat, my mind is a whirlwind of emotions.

The drive back to his house feels endless. Every now and then, he looks my way, his eyes flickering with unspoken questions. I turn to the window, watching the rustic landscape blur past, trying to make sense of what just happened. The tension in the car is palpable, magnifying my confusion.

When we finally pull up to the house, the coziness of the exterior that once felt inviting now feels strange. We're both still entrenched in our singular worlds as we step out, the cold air hitting us like a wake-up call. Without a word, we head inside. The silence stretches on as I take off my coat and boots, the crackle of the dwindling fire the only sound I hear.

Calvin lingers in the foyer and I catch his eye. For a moment, the awkwardness lifts as a shy smile tugs at his lips. The simple gesture makes my heart flip but the weight of what happened presses down on me once more. Each second that passes without addressing it makes it exponentially worse. I'm about to speak up when Calvin breaks the silence.

"Probably best if I head out now," he says, his voice gentle but strained.

Anything I wanted to say is halted. He was going to rest here first. Now, he's leaving. Just like everyone else in my life. I know this is different, that he has to go back to the city, that this was the plan all along. And yet I'm stricken. Everyone leaves eventually.

"Yes, probably," I reply, my own tone emerging distant and unsure.

"I'll see you in a few days. Call if you need anything."

And just like that Calvin walks out the door.

From the window, I offer a wave, watching him get into his car and pull out, the taillights slowly fading away.