Page 62 of Once Upon A Christmas Song

“It would be nice to talk,” I confessed.

“It really would,” he agreed. “And you have that great fireplace and those cozy couches and all those blankets.”

“The fireplace is at Simone’s place—your place,” I reminded him. “And I don’t have any blankets and whatnot.”

“You don’t?”

I glared at him. He was being obtuse on purpose.

“What? I can’t help it if I ordered things today and had them delivered to my place because I know you like thick blankets and lots of throw pillows and getting all snuggled up.”

“My place is better.”

“Because we can snuggle up better there?”

“I don’t think snuggling is on the agenda.”

“No? Because you like to do that, and I like to do that, and it’s gonna be cold tonight, so…blankets and a fire, and we could stop for pie.”

I exhaled sharply.

“You don’t want pie?”

“Of course I want pie.”

His smile was huge. “I can’t wait to hear everything you did since I saw you last.”

“It’s boring as hell.”

“No,” he whispered, lifting my hand and kissing my knuckles. “Nothing about you is boring. Not to me.”

“You’re killing me with this.”

“With what?”

“I dunno… You’re just gonna be patient and not push?”

He squeezed my hand. “What does pushing get me? I want you back in my life in every way. Right now you’ve agreed to trust me, to be my friend. I will take that and run with that and be the best buddy you⁠—”

“I don’t wanna be your buddy,” I confessed, staring at him, at everything I wanted but was afraid to have.

He looked like I hit him, his breath catching as he took a step back.

“No,” I rushed out, reaching for him, taking his face in my hands. “I mean, I don’t want to be just your buddy. I want more than that.”

His exhale of relief, followed by the full-body tremor, told me I’d scared him.

“I’m sorry, Sonny. I’m not great at this.”

“That’s okay,” he soothed me, hands on my wrists, making sure I couldn’t move away. “We’ll be terrible together because really, all I want is your time.”

I nodded. “You have it.”

He took a breath. “And maybe a kiss. Just one for welcome home, just for you’re happy to see me. It doesn’t need to mean that you’re gonna give me another chance or anything.” His gaze searched mine, so hopeful, so full of yearning.

When I wrapped my hand around his throat, he whispered oh and then please as I tipped his head back and kissed him. I had to taste him, to see if it was the same, if he was really still mine.

His lips parted, and I was there, tasting him, my tongue pressing, rubbing, tangling with his, taking control. I took and he gave, the dance so engrained, so familiar, and his hands went up under my T-shirt, touching all my skin he could reach as he tried to get closer.