I slip past him into the hallway. “I’m just down here,” I say, nodding toward the end of the hallway. We walk in silence until we reach my apartment door.
I turn to face him. “Thanks for driving me home.”
He hesitates for a second, then exhales. “I probably shouldn’t do this, but it’s all I’ve thought about since that cooking class. Well, actually, it’s all I’ve thought about for months.”
My breath catches as he steps closer. “Do what?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
His hands slide to my waist, pulling me flush against him. “Kiss you.”
“Oh,” I murmur, my eyes flicking to his lips.
“Is that okay?”
I nod, and his lips curl into a slow, relieved smile. “Thank God.”
He tugs me even closer, my arms instinctively winding around his neck. My world narrows to the feel of him as he lowers his head, and just before his lips touch mine, my eyes flutter shut.
The kiss starts soft, almost hesitant, but quickly deepens. He bites down gently on my bottom lip, coaxing me to open to him, and I oblige, letting his tongue slide against mine. One of my hands tangles in the hair at the nape of his neck, and when I tug slightly, he groans into my mouth, the sound sending a shiver through me. It’s the kind of kiss that makes my knees weak; the kind that erases all thought except for the feel of him.
When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against mine, both of us breathless.
“I should probably go,” he says quietly. “Merry Christmas, Ash.”
His lips find mine one more time, in a soft, lingering kiss before he steps back, and my arms fall from around his neck.
“Merry Christmas, Ben.”
I want to know what happens now. We’ve got two weeks off for the holidays, and I don’t have his number, which means I have no way to contact him. Normally, I’d just ask. I’m not usually shy about this kind of thing. But with Ben, everything feels different, and suddenly, I have no idea what the next move should be.
Whatever it is, he has to be the one to make it, even if waiting for him to do so feels like a small form of torture.
CHAPTER TWO
Ashlyn
Christmas Eve
“Come to mine and get ready,” I say to Ivy down the phone. “We can have a glass of wine while you curl my hair.”
Ivy laughs. “So, it’s my hair curler you want, not me?”
“Well, I want youandthe hair curler,” I tease. “The curler’s no good if you’re not with it.”
“Charming,” Ivy deadpans.
I laugh. “You know I love you! Now get your ass over here. There’s wine to be drinking!”
She laughs again. “I’m on my way, and I’m raiding your closet if I’m curling your hair!”
“Deal.”
I end the call and head into my small, open-plan kitchen, pulling down two wine glasses before grabbing the already open bottle of wine from the fridge and filling both glasses.
Taking one glass, I head to the living room while I wait for Ivy. She only lives on the next street over, so she won’t be long.
As I sink into the sofa, my mind drifts back to the other night, and that ridiculously hot kiss Ben and I shared. It’s all I’ve thought about for the past two days. That, and how easy and fun the whole night was. I keep wondering if he’s been thinking about it too. I really wish I had his number. Normally, I love the holidays and never want to rush through them, but right now? I’d go back to work tomorrow if it meant seeing him again.
The intercom buzzes, pulling me from my thoughts, and I stand, cross the space, and lift the phone.
