AllFreeNovel
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“I don’t know either.” His voice is quiet as we continue slowly down the street, our hands in our pockets.
“Do you love it?” I ask, genuinely curious. I always assumed he loved the lifestyle that came with it. Namely, beautiful women.
Nic stops in front of a house with Christmas lights blinking over the shrubbery, and I stand next to him, arm to arm. His answer is a deep breath, the plume of steam as he slowly blows it out hanging between us. “I get letters, Jessie. Kids, teenagers. Parents. They’re undergoing treatments at a hospital for something awful like cancer, dealing with stress from bullying, or whatever. How watching these movies helped them through a dark time. And I remember how hard it was for me after my parents died. Timothy would put on a movie and for a few hours, it all went away.”
I grab his arm. “They can turn on any movie. Watch any other actor play any other role. It doesn’t have to be you if you aren’t happy.”
His brow furrows as he turns to face me. For a long moment, he stares at me. “Are you trying to cheer me up by telling me I’m not special?”
I squeeze his arm and let go. “One hundred percent, yes.”
A smile cracks his lips, a huff of a laugh escaping. “I can always count on you for perspective on my own insignificance, can’t I?”
“Isn’t that what we do for each other?”
His smile drops. “What?”
“You know,” I say, feeling a little like I’m on thin ice. “We take each other’s egos down a peg or two.”
“Jessie, I—”
A snowball to the back of the shoulders cuts him off. The next one catches me as I turn, nailing me in the face—thankfully one of Evie’s softer throws—and I don’t wait around to get hit again. I take off down the street.
Timothy and Mina jump into the melee, drawing fire from the kids and Amanda and Hazel, allowing me to escape down a cul-de-sac. The snow pushed into the middle by the plows has been turned into a fort by the neighborhood kids, so I scramble up and jump in. The four walls are uneven but high enough that I can tug my jacket over my ass and sit, perfectly concealed.
Nic leaps over the wall, landing in the middle and crouching. It’s so like a scene out of one of his Warwick movies that I snicker.
“They all turned on your parents,” he says, sitting next to me. “I don’t think anyone saw us. How’s your face?” His gloved fingers tentatively grip my chin, tilting my head as his eyes sweep over me. “Meh.”
“Asshole,” I grumble, batting his hand away.
His laugh is soft under his breath. Shifting, he peers over the rim of the wall again, then leans over to whisper against my ear. “Liam’s at the end of the street. We might be stuck here a while.”
Great. The cold is already seeping through my jeans.
We sit shoulder to shoulder and I hate to admit it but Nic’s warmth is nice. I shift, digging into my pocket, pulling out my flask, and bringing it to my lips before I remember it’s empty. I pocket it in disgust. Next year, I need two.
Nic nudges me, handing his flask over.
The whiskey burns on the way down, warming me from the inside. I lick my lips and hold the flask out to Nic. When he doesn’t take it, I turn to him and—oh.
His eyes are heated, focused on my mouth. Smug satisfaction wraps around me, warming me more than the whiskey. When he realizes I’ve caught him, he takes the flask and tilts it back and it’s my turn to appreciate the way his lower lip curves around the opening, the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows. His eyes hold mine spellbound as he lowers the flask. In the deep blue of our frozen hiding place, they look almost black. Fathomless, like they’ll swallow me whole.
He leans into me to pocket the flask, and suddenly we’re close, exchanging the same breath of whiskey-scented air.
It happens in slow motion in the fading light, the cold of the snow fort giving way to the warmth of his lips as I kiss him, the gentle touch of his tongue as he kisses me back. The snow around us muffles the world outside, muffles the rustle of gloves on jackets as we pull each other closer, this soft moment between us sparking into a blaze.
He shoves me away with a gasp. “Jessie, stop.”
Hurt expands through my chest with every breath I draw, anger warming my face. I don’t know why this keeps happening to us. “Make up your fucking mind.”
“Jessie, it’s not—” He reaches for me and I slap his hand away.
“Don’t touch me.” I pull my scarf tight because tears are already stinging my eyes. If I don’t get out of this snow fort in the next ten seconds, I’ll be ugly crying, which pisses me off because Nic isn’t worth a single goddamn tear.
“We can’t—”
“I don’t want to,” I whisper, standing directly into an onslaught of snowballs. I immediately drop back down.
