Page 43 of Elf-ish

I’m not certain loneliness ever really disappears, but for the past twenty-four hours, I haven’t felt the constant brick of emptiness in my gut. I’ve simply enjoyed my time with Angelica.

Pulling back, our eyes meet, and I stare at the flicker in hers. The warmth and mirth inside them.

I bet she never gets lonely.

“Why didn’t you have a date for your brother’s wedding?” I’d heard her partner say he’d take her. A woman like Angelica should have men lining up to date her. Hell, she should already have that one man in her life, worshipping her.

She shrugs. “Just haven’t found the one. At last.” She wrinkles her nose, playing off the song and brushing off my question.

“What about you?” she asks. “You’ve dated hundreds of women. You could have easily found someone else to pretend with you tonight.”

Respectable, I’d told her. I needed someone the board didn’t know or recognize, but the situation also called for more. I didn’t know what that more was or why I felt she had it, but I didn’t think I could pull this off with anyone other than her.

“I didn’t want anyone else.” Honestly, I didn’t. I only wanted one person by my side for this party, and she is in my arms.

Still staring at one another, the song fades and almost instantly another one begins. Angelica steps out of my embrace and starts moving her body in jutting, jerking motions, pausing occasionally at the staggered beat of the new song.

“Oh, God. No.”

“Oh, goddess, yes,” Angelica smiles, her grin growing three sizes right in front of me while those blue eyes dance.

“Not . . .”

“Yes.” Angelica continues moving, smoothing out her motions, while holding her fist in front of her mouth and singing along to a Taylor Swift tune.

Suddenly, I’m a fan, as I watch Angelica spin, tossing her hair over her shoulder, and mouthing the words in my direction. The most prominent of those terms being the song’s title, “Lover”.

I’m hyperaware of eyes on us. Or rather, on her, making an intriguing spectacle of herself while hammering in that I’m her . . . lover.

With a sharp bark, resembling a laugh, I step closer to her and pull her into me with her back to my front. We sway side to side for the rest of the song.

“Has anyone ever told you you are a temptress?”

“Never,” she breathes out, replacing the song title with the singular word.

“Well, I’m telling you. You’re delectable.”

Angelica spins in my arms. “Chocolate mints are delectable. I am just . . .” She sweeps a hand down her front without realizing she’s only emphasizing my point.

She is a chocolate mint, and I want to devour her.

When the song ends, Maxine saunters over to us, waving a sprig of mistletoe in her hand. My assistant looks rather tipsy.

“Oh no,” Angelica teases, holding out her hand and waving them at Maxine. “Shoo.”

I bite my inner cheek. She’s so fucking adorable.

Maxine, however, is wily like me and steps closer to Angelica, holding the mistletoe like she’s dangling a treat in front of a pup.

Angelica laughs harder and tucks into me like I’ll protect her from a piece of greenery with white berries tied by a red bow.

Instead, I cup Angelica’s cheek and tip back her head. Our eyes meet, and Taylor Swift’s song echoes through my head about lovers and lights on and saying someone is mine.

Stroking my thumb over her soft skin, I brush over the freckles covered by a dusting of makeup. Then I swipe at the corner of her lip, erasing the cover-up so I can see that freckle that draws my attention over and over again.

“Kiss the girl,” Maxine playfully barks, and while I want to snap this isn’t a Disney fairy tale, there isn’t anything else I want more than to kiss Angelica again.

When our mouths meet, the kiss is soft like the one we initially shared. The one that quickly turned more intense. Not hurried but a slow hunger, like a deep ache in my belly, where I knew I had to savor every sip of her or that ache would grow to a gut-wrenching pain.