Page 6 of Polar Prank
“Whoa, watch where you—” His words trail off as we barely miss connecting, our faces hovering just a breath away.
The air crackles between us, a spark of chemistry I didn’t expect. I find myself lost in the depths of his gaze, those evergreen eyes cutting through the mundane office lighting, holding a tense mixture of surprise and something deeper. My heart skips a beat, making me lightheaded.
“Mistletoe,” I manage to whisper, pointing up to the little sprig swinging innocently above us.
The holiday decoration dangles there like a guilty secret, and in a flash, the tension shifts, filling my head with laughter— the absurdity of the moment brightening my cheeks.
“Are we really caught under that?” he asks incredulously, a hint of amusement lacing his words, his mouth curving into a grin that makes my stomach flutter. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Looks like we don’t have a choice.” I tease, my courage swelling like the holiday spirit itself. “What’s a little holiday cheer without a quick peck, right?”
He raises an eyebrow, and I can't help but bite my lip, the thrill of the dare igniting my pulse. My laughter fades, transforming into something charged, almost pulsing between us. I glance at the mistletoe again, the tiny leaves hovering as if they’re holding our fates suspended in time like the ribbon the door frame.
“Only a peck, Iclyn?” He leans a bit closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, sending shivers racing down my spine.
There’s something in his tone that makes me rethink my bravado. It’s not an invitation. It’s another challenge.
I smile and my heart races with anticipation.
“Maybe more,” I breathe out, the words tinged with a daring boldness I didn’t know I had.
He inches closer, and suddenly the world around us fades away. The hum of the office is distant. My breath catches as he places a hand gently on my waist, fingertips brushing myskin through the fabric of my shirt. The warmth of his touch spreads through me, a fire igniting deep in my core. My heart pounds loudly in my chest, each beat echoing a thrill I’ve never experienced.
Our faces inch closer, and as he tilts his head, my own eyes flutter shut. Tension crackles, electric. I can feel the warmth radiating from him, enveloping us.
And then —finally— our lips meet. It’s tentative at first, a soft brush of warmth that ignites every nerve ending in my body. His lips are surprisingly soft. I think he’ll pull away, but he doesn’t. I melt into him, an intoxicating mix of sweetness and urgency builds.
Time seems to stretch and bend in the space of this type of kiss. It’s a swirl of surprise and unspoken promises. I lose myself in the taste of him, the scent of cedar and something distinctly him— a familiar, comforting scent that makes my heart race.
The world fades, and I forget about the office, the work, the holiday chaos outside. It’s just us. Wrapped in our own bubble of warmth, laughter, and what feels like it was meant to be.
As we pull back, breathless and wide-eyed, his gaze meets mine, sparkling with something profound.
“Well,” he says, a playful smirk dancing on his lips, “that definitely wasn’t just a peck.”
“No,” I reply, laughter bubbling up again, my heart full of mischief and newfound possibilities. “Maybe we’ll have to explore this holiday cheer a bit further.”
He opens his mouth to say something, and there’s nothing I want to hear more.
“Hey, boss,” Jenna from HR slips around the corner and her heeled boots come to a clopping halt. “Um… I… I’ll come back later.”
Shit.
His eyes widen, and with her appearance the moment shatters like a glass bulb on a wood floor. He clears his throat and takes a giant step back, the wall of ice surrounding his heart becoming a glacier. His hands drop from my waist. I miss them.
Jenna spins on her heels and head back to her cubicle.
“We should stickto cards and glitter,” he says firmly.
I back away. “Alright, Mr. Grinch, but you know where the mistletoe is now. Be careful.”
With a small but stubborn grin, he watches me return to my group and I can’t help but feel the heat of the unexpected tryst lingering in the air. The office may be filled with glitter and cheer, but it’s the simmering tension between us that truly defines this holiday season for me.
The day rolls on, filled with laughter, friendly sabotage from Brinker, and a spirit of mischief all around. And amidst it all, I can’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, this year’s holiday cheer might crack through Brinker’s icy exterior after all.
Challenge accepted…
5
