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We sit in comfortable silence for a while, taking in the serenity of the night. In the distance, we can even hear friggin’ Christmas carols. I feel like I’m in a Lifetime Christmas movie. Minus the murder and kidnapping.
“Shay?” Austin nuzzles my ear.
“Hmm?”
“Maybe it’s time for a change.” He kisses the soft spot on my neck that drives me wild. “A fresh start, somewhere we can build our own traditions, our own family. Miles and I are going to sell the company.”
I blink, processing his words. “What?”
He grins. “It’s time to move on to bigger and better things. Together.”
“I think that’s a beautiful idea, Austin.” Warmth floods my chest, excitement bubbles up within me.
Of course, he hasn’t brought up marriage, which worries me a little.
Well, a lot.
“Merry Christmas, Shay.” He pulls me close, our breaths mingle in the cold air.
I smile, feeling the utter comfort of this moment, a promise of a future together. “Merry Christmas, Austin.”
Chapter twenty-seven
Austin
New Years Eve
I don’t remember ever legitimately celebrating New Year’s Eve, but this year there’s a myriad of reasons to revel.
Shay moved in last weekend. All her stuff is hanging in our closet. Her makeup and shampoo and all the little doo-dads she needs to get ready fill the drawers in our bathroom. She’s already talking about redecorating a couple of the bedrooms.
It’s a domestic paradise.
Tonight, we’re hanging out with Miles at a quaint little speakeasy a couple of blocks from our home. It’s filled with locals and the room is abuzz with laughter, music, and chatter. Glittering lights reflect off the polished wood and dim, overhead stained-glass lights create a cozy ambiance, perfectly capturing the New Year’s Eve spirit.
Shay looks stunning, wearing a little black dress that hugs her curves, her blonde hair cascades in loose waves over her shoulders. She dances facing where I sit on a barstool, swaying slightly to the rhythm of the jazz band playing in the corner. Miles, looking dapper in a crisp white shirt, is chatting with a gorgeous dark-haired beauty who is covered in colorful tattoos.
I tug Shay in between my legs and whisper, “Flirt alert.”
“God, I’m glad we reclaimed that word for ourselves.” Shay drapes her arms across my shoulder and leans in for a sweltering kiss. “We just got here, though.”
I run my hands down her back and cup her perfect ass. “Yeah, I know. Can’t help it.”
It’s funny to me now how much Shay’s old high school term used to make me see red.
Now hearing it makes me hard as a rock.
It’s still a secret message. Now it’s our secret message.
Shay hated that something so silly had made me feel shitty for so long. A couple days ago she decided we should repurpose the term. Associate a flirt alert with something positive—now it’s our signal that we’re hot for each other and need to find somewhere to be alone.
Stat.
“I love you.” Shay presses her body against mine. “Tell you what. Let’s ring in the new year and immediately go home and fuck until dawn.”
I nearly spit out my drink. “You’re trying to kill me. My boner’s about to burst through my pants.”
“Hmmm.” She covertly rubs the heel of her hand against my distinct bulge. “Maybe we could go sooner.”
