“I think I need to go home.”
The hurt in his eyes hurts me too, and I realize how far I’ve fallen over the past couple of days. But I can’t think like this, trapped here in this holiday hotel with him, surrounded by nothing but warm fuzzies. I need space, a chance to get my head together without him influencing me.
“Okay. If that’s what you need.”
I nod and rise from my chair. “I’m going to go upstairs and pack.”
“I’ll wait for you here.”
I head toward the elevators, looking back once. Nick has fully sunk into the armchair, his head in his hands like it’s too heavy to hold up. He looks about as broken as I feel.
I don’t have much stuff and so it only takes me a few minutes to throw everything into my bag. I change out of Nick’s sweatshirt, and yeah, I might hold the soft fabric to my nose, breathing in the pine and juniper scent of him before folding it up and leaving it on the bed. Pulling onmy slightly smelly sweater, I do one more check to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything.
Nick has moved from the quiet corner when I make my way back down to the lobby, waiting for me in front of the massive Christmas tree.
He always was the best part of Christmas.
I ask the front desk to call me a taxi and leave my bag with them while I make my way over to the man I thought might be mine once again. I don’t resist when he pulls me into his arms. I bury myself in his warmth, in his scent, in the strength of his hands on my back.
“I really hope this isn’t goodbye,” he murmurs into my neck. “Even if we’re just friends, I want you in my life, Jess.”
“I don’t know if I can be just friends with you, Nick.” I wrap my arms around his neck, rising on my toes to bring me closer. “I don’t know if this is goodbye, I just know I need some time to think.”
“Take all the time you need. I’m here whenever you’re ready.”
I tilt my head up, and he brings his lips down to mine. The kiss is soft and sweet, gentle and knowing. It’s the comfort of a cozy blanket and the heat of a fire stoking deep in my belly.
At a honk from outside, I pull myself away reluctantly. Leaving him is the right thing to do, but it certainly doesn’t feel like it in this moment. I wave to the cab to let them know I’m on my way. “I should go.”
He brushes a thumb along my cheek. “Get home safely.” He leans down, his mouth hovering a fraction of an inch from mine.
He waits for me to close the space, and I do, placing one final kiss, just a breath of a touch, on his lips.
“Have a good Christmas, Jess.”
“Yeah, you too.” I spin on my heel and walk away, forcing myself not to look back.
My brain is a mess, but my heart is cracking in two. This time I’m the one walking away, but it doesn’t feel any better.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Nick
Watching her walk away from me—again—is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I feel like I’m watching a piece of myself breaking away, pulling away from me, and leaving me with a Jess-shaped hole in my chest.
I sink into the closest armchair in the lobby, not wanting to head back to my room in case she changes her mind and comes back. I know she’s not going to, but that doesn’t stop me from checking the front door every thirty seconds, just to be sure.
I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting there when a hand lands on my shoulder. “You’re still here.”
I finally pull my eyes away from the front door and turn to look at my editor, Gina. “Still here.”
Her brow furrows. “Everything okay? You look like someone just told you Santa’s not real.”
“What do you mean Santa’s not real?” I inject false humor into my voice, not really wanting to get into this whole situation with someone who is, in some ways, my boss.
“Okay, that might convince someone who hasn’t spent hours and hours with you working out character development.” She sits in the chair across from mine. “What’s going on?”
“I think I just had my heart broken.” I know I shouldn’t confide this in her, should keep our relationship professional, but she’s here and I know she cares about my mental well-being—at least as much as it pertains to me being a functioning writer.
