Page 30 of Wish For Me

When Leif meets my eyes, I wonder if he feels it too.

“What’s your news, Noelle?” he asks.

“You don’t already know it?”

“No. I didn’t search your name this year.”

My stomach flips. This implies he did last year.

I don’t ask him why he didn’t. I already know—it’s the same reason I didn’t look him up. It’s too hard.

“I got a lead role,” I say finally.

Leif grins. “Knew it.”

“There’s more.”

His eyebrows fly up. “More?”

“It’s not in a little theatre. It’s an off-Broadway play. I’m a stone’s throw away from my…” I hesitate. “My dream.” Itismy dream. Right?

Leif stands up, surprising me.

As he comes to the front of my chair, my heart begins to pound.

“What?” I let out a nervous laugh.

Leif holds his hands out.

I raise mine up and he pulls me to standing. For a moment we stand toe-to-toe, our breaths intermingling in the frigid air.

“Congratulations,” he says.

Suddenly, I don’t care about the role. All I care about is the way he’s looking at me, the sparks exploding in my stomach. The way despite the cold, my body feels like it’s on fire.

“Thank you,” I say.

I start to close my eyes. But then his arms wrap around me and we’re hugging, and the disappointment I feel is so heavy my throat burns.

“You’re doing it,” he says into my hair. “Not many people say what they’re going to do and just…do it.”

“You do,” I say, my voice no more than a whisper.

He pulls away and looks down into my eyes. He brings his hand to my jaw, and just like last year, out on the balcony, I feel myself drawn to him, like every cell is calling his name.

“It was the hardest thing I ever did,” Leif said.

“What?” I whisper.

“Not look you up. Every second of every day I wanted to look you up. Every time someone mentioned a play or acting, every time I saw a picture of fucking Rudolf the Red-nosed Reindeer. Every time I looked up into the stars.”

“Leif,” I say as his thumb brushes my lower lip. My eyelids flutter. My skin tingles with need for him.

Leif’s Adam’s apple bobs under his scruff. “Yes, Noelle?”

“I can’t do this.”

For a moment, he doesn’t move. He just searches my eyes. “You want to.” His voice is hoarse.

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