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“Come here, I’ll warm you up,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows at me.
Stepping into his outstretched arms, I let Wyatt wrap me in his warmth. The problem is, he’s not warm anymore either.
“You’re making me colder,” I explain, pulling away.
“Want to go back inside, then?” he asks, reaching into my pocket and wrapping his ice-cold hand around mine.
“Yes. There will be plenty of snow to stare at for the next few months.”
As we cuddle up on Wyatt’s couch, his mom brings up a bowl of popcorn and takes the seat across from us.
“Are you cold, Chloe?” she asks after Wyatt scoots closer to me, rubbing his hands over mine before enclosing them over mine and blowing his breath on them.
“A little, but I’ll be fine.”
“I can see that,” she smirks, turning her attention back to the television. “Keep those hands where I can see them, please.”
Wyatt stops, his hand in midair, as he’s about to cover us with a blanket. “Seriously, Mom?”
“Oh, I’m very serious. I don’t want to have to wonder what’s going on under that blanket. It grosses me out.” Becky fakes a gagging noise and then starts coughing. Reaching for her soda, she takes a sip and clears her throat. “See, you almost made me choke on my popcorn.”
Entwining our fingers again, Wyatt and I relax into the couch and watch the made-for-TV movie with his mom. Before I know it, Wyatt is snoring lightly on my shoulder and Becky is doing the same, her head lolled to the side.
Sliding out from Wyatt’s grasp, I kiss him on the forehead and gather my things. My parents freak out if I miss curfew, especially when the weather is bad. As I’m about to reach for the door handle, Wyatt grabs my other hand and pulls me back to him.
“Sneaking away?”
“You fell asleep on me.”
“I know. You were comfortable. I was hoping you might stay.”
“You know I can’t. My parents would flip out.”
“But I’m not ready for you to go yet,” he whines. “I want you to stay forever. And ever. And ever. And—”
“I get it,” I laugh. He’s said it before, and I’m sure he’ll say it again. “I’ll call you tomorrow. I promise.”
Relenting, Wyatt pulls my hand to his lips, kissing my palm before swooping in and capturing my breath. He makes me want to stay and risk getting in trouble. Forever. And ever.
“Ready,”I reply, turning and reaching for his hand.
When I slide my fingers between his, I swear I hear him moan. When I look up, I find him surveying my face, searching for answers. Answers he’ll find if he looks hard enough.
With a smile, I lead us out of the bar and to my car.
“Just like old times,” he comments as he reaches the passenger door, our hands sliding apart.
“Only better this time around,” I retort quickly.
“Better, huh?”
“Yeah. Better. Amazing. Unfathomable.”
“I thought we were pretty great the first time around,” he notes, ducking into the car.
“We can do better than great,” I reply, starting the engine and pulling onto the road.
This time will be different. No one will be running or forced to leave. There will be no notes, no I’m sorry’s without explanation. No secrets and no one left wondering. Life will be as we planned it, only better.
We can start from scratch or pick up where we left off. The choice is ours.
The best part is that I get to be with him. I get the chance to have what we dreamed, and I get it with the one person I was meant to be with. The one man that was made for me.
I get to spend the rest of my life with Wyatt… if he’ll still have me.
