Page 44 of Acting Merry
And Cole…I have no idea where he’ll be. But, for better or worse, I’ll have this picture as a keepsake.
The group breaks apart with Hannah’s reminder thatwe’ll be playing card games, then doing dinner, then having hot tub night.
Cole makes no move to go back inside, and even though I’m freezing, I stay back with him.
The door shuts behind Dylan, and I turn to find Cole standing at the edge of the porch, looking out toward the trees and the snowy ground.
“Still too cold to leave,” he says.
“Yep,” I agree, wondering how he feels about it.
He turns to look at me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I say energetically. “Of course.”
The way he looks at me, I’m not sure he believes me.
“Areyou?” I ask.
“Never better,” he says with a smile.
Idobelieve him. This isn’t fazing him at all. He’s out here having a grand old time while I fall for my fake boyfriend.
He points at me, icy blue eyes narrowed suspiciously. “That face you’re making right now? That’s what I’m talking about. Are you sure you’re okay? Did I do something weird when I kissed you?”
“What? No!” I kind of wish hehad.
“Did I go overboard?”
I laugh, my cheeks warming. “Cole, the kiss was fine.”
Fine. Never has a more lackluster word been used for a kiss that makes my legs weak just thinking about it.
“Fine,” he repeats. “So…not great.”
I shut my eyes in consternation and smile. “It was perfect, okay?” When I open my eyes, he’s watching me.
He nods. “That’s what I thought, too.”
My heart skips, trips, and loses its rhythm for a few seconds. What does he mean? Perfect as in it was the perfect kiss? Or perfect as in it was the perfectfakekiss?
It’s a big difference, and I’m desperate to know which, to know how many people he’s kissed perfectly.
Desperate enough to do a little prodding. “Is that why Bree came to my house? Because she was hoping for another kiss like that?” I aim for teasing, but the jealous edge slips through.
Something flickers on Cole’s face. “I don’t think I’ve ever kissed anyone like that.”
There goes my heart again. With how often it’s giving out today, maybe a dumpster fire is the right place for it.
Cole’s smile turns teasing as he takes two steps toward me. “Is all of this your way of saying you’d like to come back for more?”
I laugh, my cheeks Christmas red as I look up at him. “Keep dreamin’.”
He meets my eyes. “I will.”
I feelwarm and jittery all through an intense game of nerts, food prep, and dinner.
It’s probably this ridiculously hot sweater and a strongdose of cabin fever. I refuse to accept that it’s connected to the guy sitting next to me or the way my body tracks every touch point between us—every bump of our knees, every square inch of contact on our arms—like I’m logging data in a scientific study that relies on 100% accuracy.
