Page 54 of A Pen Pal for Christmas

That didn’t mean I hadn’t enjoyed our first kiss. It was hungry and heated, like he couldn’t get enough. It had been electric, pushing every thought or fear or doubt straight out of my mind, a kiss that demanded I be fully present, fully his, even if just for that moment.

But this softer, slower kiss wasn’t a replacement for that fire—it was a complement. A quieter side of him that burned just as hot, just as deep, showing me he wasn’t just here for the moments when sparks flew. He was here for the quiet ones, too—the ones where I could breathe even when the world around me fell apart.

His lips brushed against mine one last time, lingering before he pulled back. I opened my eyes to find him watching me with that calming intensity that made me weak in the knees.

“I didn’t mean to overwhelm you last night,” he murmured. “And I won’t push now. But I’m here, Sofia. Whatever you need. However you want to take this—fast, slow, or anything in between—I’m here.”

My heart twisted at how easily he could read me, caught somewhere between gratitude and something so much deeper. “I think,” I whispered, “I want all of it. With you.”

His lips twitched into a faint smile, the tension in his jaw easing as he cupped my cheek gently. “Good,” he said simply, his thumb brushing against my skin.

And when he kissed me again, it was somewhere in the middle of our first two—soft enough to feel cherished, hungry enough to remind me that, no matter what happened next,Hudson Green was exactly the kind of man I’d want to have by my side.

When we finally pulled back for the second time, I took a slight step back. “I really want this to mean something.”

“Me too.”

I couldn’t help but smile. And although it was probably bad to compare, it suddenly struck me that Dane’s kisses had never been so nuanced. They were always rushed, leaving me breathless but never quite full. The opposite, in fact.

And yet, when Hudson kissed me, he wasn’t trying to take from me—he was offering me a piece of himself. And for the first time in what felt like forever, I was glad that I’d reached out and taken it.

We heard footsteps on the other side of the door, stepping even farther apart just as Tommy walked in with his laptop in hand. “Got it. Let’s take a look.”

Hudson and I shared a look as Tommy sat at the table. Whatever conversation we were about to have would need to wait, and the silent promise in Hudson’s eyes that it would be continued later made butterflies take flight within me.

But then the room seemed to shrink as Tommy opened his laptop, his fingers moving across the keyboard with deliberate precision. My heart thudded in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears like a countdown.

What if Dane was lying? What if he wasn’t? The implications of either possibility made it hard to breathe. I wrapped my arms around myself, my nails digging into the sleeves of my sweatshirt as I braced for whatever we’d see.

“No matter what this shows,” Hudson said, cutting through the silence, “we’ll be one step closer to figuring this out.” His gaze was steady and sure as it met mine, and I nodded, even though I didn’t feel steady or sure at all.

Hudson and I sat on either side of Tommy so we could see the laptop’s screen, and I almost smiled when Tommy muttered something under his breath about buffering speeds. He was never one to be patient for anything.

“Here we go,” he said, and we all leaned in as the video feed came up, showing a grainy but clear enough view of the hardware store’s lot. Tommy fast-forwarded through the footage until he found what he was looking for.

“There,” he said, pausing the video.

The time stamp in the corner ticked forward, and just before six—while I was still in my room—Dane’s SUV appeared in the top corner of the screen. His headlights cut through the shadows as he pulled into a spot and then shut them off, close enough to the camera for us to clearly see that it was him.

My breath hitched as Dane’s dark figure shifted in the driver’s seat. I watched as he leaned back, fidgeted with something—his phone, based on the rectangle of white light. And then, judging by the way his thumb made continuous swipes that interrupted the glow from the screen, it appeared that he’d started lazily scrolling through social media or something.

Not a care in the world, as usual.

Tommy squinted at the video, muttering, “Come on. Move.”

Hudson leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped so tightly his knuckles turned white. I glanced at him, the hard set of his jaw making my stomach twist. Was he hoping for confirmation of Dane’s guilt, or was he just as conflicted as I was?

As Tommy sped the footage up, my gaze flicked between the screen and Hudson’s unreadable expression. It felt like hours passed before Tommy slowed the video again, showing Dane still in the SUV as the first hints of dawn broke across the lot. At some point during the fast-forwarding, he’d put away hisphone and gone to sleep, and he didn’t stir until he got out and stretched after what was probably a really rough night of sleep.

“He didn’t leave,” Tommy said, his voice flat. “Not once.”

Relief should have washed over me, but it didn’t. Instead, there was only a tiny bit of relief, but it was blended with confusion—and maybe a touch of something darker. I’d spent so long assuming Dane was the worst thing that could happen to me, but now the idea of an unknown threat was so much scarier.

I leaned back in my chair, the weight of the revelation settling over me like a heavy blanket. “So… if it wasn’t him…”

“It means someone else is after you,” Hudson said quietly.

Tommy ran a hand over his head, then rested it on the back of his neck. “I don’t like this, but it’s all right here. Proof it wasn’t him.”

---