I sighed, looking up at her. “Tell me more about this romantic kiss under the mistletoe and why you’re worried.”
24
LILY
GivingGabe additional context over text likely would have been helpful. In my defense, I had a whole paragraph typed out but then the oven beeped, signaling it was ready for me to put the brownies in. So, I got distracted.
And now I was distracted again. This time, by Gabe Nelson, who had the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. This man loved showing off his forearms. It was tragic for me. Great for everyone else.
Why didn’t I step away from him earlier? What would have happened had my cats not interrupted us? I didn’t want to let my mind go there, but it was impossible not to. Would he have kissed me?
I had one more batch of brownies, and without asking, he’d stepped in and helped me stir the batter while I started cleaning up ingredients I no longer needed.
“So, I mentioned during our dinner that I hadn’t been on a date in a while, which was why I was nervous. Then tonight I was looking at my list, and I got nervous again. I mean, a romantic kiss under the mistletoe that takes my breath away? How are we going to accomplish that?” My voice got way too high at my lastwords. There was no denying that Gabe was handsome. There were likely plenty of women in Milwaukee who were interested in him. Women who were prettier, smarter, and better than me.
“With it getting so close to Christmas,” I continued, “there’s going to be mistletoe everywhere. People might force us under it.”
“People are going to force us to stand underneath mistletoe?” he asked, like the concept was hard to believe. Which, in his defense, did sound ridiculous. But I knew this town, and forcing us to stand under mistletoe (or chasing us with it) was not off the table.
“It’s very likely. Weirder things have happened in Golden Falls.”
He ran a hand through his hair, and I noticed that his normally perfectly styled hair was messy tonight, as if he’d been running his fingers through it on the whole way over to my apartment. “What if we practiced?”
There was no hesitation in his voice, but I still thought I heard him wrong. “Practiced?” I asked. “Practiced what?” There was no way he meant?—
“Practiced our kiss,” he said simply, setting down the mixing spoon and pouring the batter into the brownie tin. He was calm, cool, and collected—like he didn’t just suggest that wepracticekissing.
My jaw dropped, and I blinked. “Um, I mean, sure. Yeah, I guess we could practice,” I stammered, my cheeks heating up.Smooth. Real smooth, Lily. Did you forget every word in the English language all of a sudden?I chewed on my bottom lip, one thought in particular plaguing my mind. One that caused all the nerves in the first place. “But what if I’m bad at it?”
Gabe stopped what he was doing, set the bowl down, and gave me his full attention. “Did someone say that you were a bad kisser?” he asked roughly, but the rasp in his voice wasn’tdirected at me. He seemed…frustrated, angry even, at the idea that someone would say that to me.
“No,” I clarified quickly, but then added, “but I haven’t exactly been told I’m agreatkisser. Plus, it’s been a while. What if I was okay at it then but now I’m bad?”
Gabe rubbed his forehead and shook his head. “Lily, there’s no way you’re bad at it. You’re likely a fucking fantastic kisser. What morons have you been kissing who have made you think otherwise?”
I rolled my lips to hide the smile pulling at them and started to move past him to put more of the ingredients away. “So, what you’re saying is I should be kissing more?—”
“No.” Gabe’s hand gently wrapped around my wrist, and he pulled me to his chest. Again, we were in nearly the same position as when we first met. Although, this time, I saw warmth in his brown eyes instead of a cold gaze. He likely had warmth all along…I just hadn’t noticed it at first. “What I’m saying is that we should practice. Right now, if that works for you.”
“Right now,” I repeated quietly, breathlessly. “Yes, that, uh, that works for me.”
He let go of my wrist, but I didn’t move. Icouldn’tmove. I was drawn to him like a magnet. Gabe’s eyes darkened as his gaze moved to my lips. I inhaled a sharp breath, suddenly getting nervous for a whole different reason.
Gabe’s presence was overwhelming every single one of my senses. He waseverywhere. He crowded more into my space, pushing my back against the edge of the kitchen counter.
“So,” I said, wetting my lips, “how does this work? Should you…pretend I’m your girlfriend or something?” I tore my gaze from his mouth but not before seeing a smirk form on his lips.
“Sure, we can do that for our practice.” He hummed low in his chest, and because we were so close, I felt the vibration.Slowly, he trailed his gaze from my eyes to my mouth to the slope of my neck.
“If I was your girlfriend,” I started, my breath hitching, “what would you do?”
“If you were my girlfriend, I’d first tell you that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you—about what it would be like to kiss you—since our dinner.”
This wasn’t real—this was practice. And yet, my heart lurched in my chest and heat coursed through my body. I’d been thinking about our dinner, too. How easy the conversation had been. How I didn’t want the night to end. How I wanted him to come upstairs so we could keep talking and getting to know each other. How desperately I wanted him to kiss me.
“Can I touch you?” he asked, and when I nodded, he took a step closer, closing the remaining distance between us. My hands rested on the edge of the counter, propping me up in case my legs gave out.
Gabe gradually moved his hand up, his large palm cradling the side of my face. His thumb brushed along my cheek once gently and then again while his gaze was focused on me the whole time.
