Page 48 of Going Viral for Christmas
What does that wink mean? That hewon’tbehave? Or that hewill?
Soren sidles up close, his cologne slithering up my nose, and my body reacts. My ovaries stage a walkout. My brain drafts a cease-and-desist. My spine tries to hold the line, but my resolve? She’s grabbing her purse and hailing a cab.
I’m fucked. Not literally. Tragically, figuratively.
The host for tonight’s interview is a perky ShelfSpace influencer who goes by the nameRaeReadsRomance.She’s in seasonal plaid, looking cute and festive.
Painting on the same careful mask I’ve used for book signings, launch parties, and awkward family dinners, I breathe in and then out.
The ring lights are hot, the cameras relentless, and every laugh from the audience feels like it’s been sharpened to a point.
Rae flashes her cue cards, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Let’s talk holiday love stories and unexpected sparks. You two have become the internet’s favorite slow burn. The clips. The banter. The public bickering that somehow feels like foreplay.” She giggles, then pauses. “So tell me—on a scale from staged to soulmates, what spice level are you two?”
I open my mouth, ready to give a rehearsed line about connection with mutual respect and shared passions, when Soren steps in, shadowing my voice.
“What an excellent question, Rae.” A hand slides to my waist, and before I can process what’s happening, Soren dips me back and crushes his mouth to mine, bold, claiming, all tongue and heat and zero warning. My gasp is swallowed whole. So is my sanity.
Thisisn’t a simple PR smooch. This is a hands-in-my-hair, world-tilting kiss that knocks the breath out of me without ever lifting my feetoff the ground. Or maybe my feet are off the ground. I don’t know. All I know is that his mouth is hot and firm against mine.
A slow rush blooms through me until everything else fades. For a heartbeat, it feels like I’ve found something I didn’t even realize I’d been missing.
The kiss goes from insistent to patient, unhurried. It asks instead of takes. When his tongue grazes mine, I melt into it, curious and hungry in a way that feels like remembering. I taste him, learn him, breathe him in, every second sinking deeper until I feel it all the way down to my toes.
That magical forest scent envelopes my senses. For a second—one dizzying, blinding second—it doesn’t feel like a stunt. It feels…real.
Oh, shit.
Soren lifts me back up, and when we break apart, we’re silent. I look at him. He looks at me.
His attention shifts back to Rae. “Does that answer your question?”
The crowd roars with excitement. Someone near the front drops something. Camera flashes explode. Rae literally squeals.
“Holyfuck,that was hot,” a man from a publishing blog whispers too loudly.
Soren drapes an arm over my shoulder. “No truer words have ever been said.”
Fireworks rip down my spine then detonate in my core. I’m frozen, stunned, unable to breathe, because?—
What the hell was that?
A joke?
A confession?
I want to believe him. Wait, why do I want to believe him?
Rae recovers first. “Wow.Okay.So that was… a capital MMoment. I think I speak for the entire internet when I say, Replay button, please?”
Laughter ripples through the air. She peeks down at her notes, then her eyes are on me, glittering. “Ava, would you care to comment on that display of swoon-worthy chemistry for the ages, or are you still kiss concussed?”
My cheeks burn. “We’re... enjoying the season.”
That’s what I say. That’s what my brain—still drunk off Soren Pembry’s lips—decides is appropriate to offer the public.
I could’ve said “help,” “thank you,” or even “excuse me” while I went to crash out in private.
Nope. Just:We’re enjoying the season.
