I wanted to. Man, did I want to.
The smell of pine and her perfume filled my lungs, and my brain was doing everything it could to remind me that kissing her in the middle of a public snow pile after a squirrel incident was probably not the way to win her back.
Still, the thought lingered.
Her gaze dropped to my mouth, just for a second, and that second felt like forever.
“Drew,” she whispered, her voice trembling somewhere between a laugh and a warning.
“Yeah?”
“Get off me.”
“Right. Yeah.”
I rolled off her and offered a hand to help her up, still fighting a grin. “You sure you’re not injured?”
“Only my pride.”
“Consider it character-building.”
“Consider yourself on thin ice.”
“Technically, that’s accurate,” I said, glancing at the slick patch beneath us.
She groaned, brushing snow off her coat. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“I’m just glad the squirrel didn’t declare war.”
“Ha. Ha.”
I stood up beside her, still chuckling as she tried to gather what was left of her dignity and her wreath supplies.
“You’ve got to admit,” I said, “it’s kind of funny.”
She shot me a look that could melt glaciers. “Youcan admit it’s funny all you want, but it’s not.”
“Oh, I have,” I said. “Repeatedly.”
She shook her head, but the corner of her mouth betrayed her, curling upward, just enough for me to see it.
“There it is,” I said. “The smile.”
“Don’t push your luck.”
“Too late.”
She sighed, finally laughing. “You’re unbearable.”
“Still sounds like a compliment.”
“I swear, if you say that one more time—”
“You’ll what? Chase me with a squirrel?”
“Don’t tempt me.”
We both started laughing again, and for a moment, it felt easy. For a brief second, the tension between us had cracked wide open to make room for something warmer.
