Page 23 of My Rival for Christmas

Makes me feel more special, keeping my confidence healthy and all.

“Someone who clearly wants to get the upper hand.”

Now my frown turns more genuine. “And you thought boobs would do it?”

What are we, twelve?

“Well. Yeah.” Paige uses the opportunity to close in on me.

“Why?” I try to evade, but now that she’s finally making her move, I can’t shake her.

“Because you’re…you know.” She gestures to me, as if that explains it all. Getting closer.

“A guy?” I supply in a dry voice. “So that has to mean my brain automatically shuts down at the mere sight of boobs?”

“You turned, didn’t you?” she shoots back, hotly. Refusing to feel ridiculous for such a question.

“Yeah, because I thought you were talking about yours.”

She’s right in front of me now. I can see the freckles on her nose.

My frown turns upside down.Hi, Princess.

Her face drops in horror at my confession, mouth forming a perfectO. “Asif?—”

Paige doesn’t finish. She can’t.

We’ve been too focused on each other to notice the curve of the rink behind me. Before I can really process what’s happening, my back slams into the solid board a half a breath before Paige crashes into me. A small, rough “Oomph” on her lips as we collide.

My arms wrap around her automatically, to keep her from falling. Chest to chest, her legs slip between mine. Bringing us impossibly close.

All the parts of my body are touching all the parts of her body.

Years.

It’s been years since I’ve had Paige in my arms, since I’ve felt her weight against me. My hands tighten into fists against her sides as I fight the urge to bury my nose in the crook of her neck, tangle my fingers in her ponytail.

She still smells like warm vanilla and toasted marshmallow andmine.

Even if she doesn’t know it yet.

I stare down at her, tracing the curves of her cheeks, the slope of her nose. My eyes cataloging every freckle I’ve never forgotten. Her body is slick with sweat, making her skin almost glow, as her chest heaves like somewhere along the way she lost her breath and it’s yet to make it back to her.

And just for a moment, she doesn’t pull away.

She doesn’t slap me across the face.

She doesn’t choke me—I’ll be sad about this one later.

Instead, she shocks the hell out of me and presses her body against mine, as if a giant relief she hasn’t known she’s needed finally comes.

I feel her exhale into my hoodie, the sound burying deep inside my chest, as her body relaxes. Her tightened muscles waning. Finally allowing herself to rest.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, a voice goes,It worked.

But I barely pay attention to it.

I don’t care about anything outside of this moment.

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