Page 78 of Fake it 'Til Christmas
Soren doesn’t say anything right away, but his gaze.The way he looks at me—like I’m not dessert, I’m the whole damn meal.
His focus drops to my mouth.It’s so subtly, slowly, almost seductively.It’s as if he’s waiting for permission or a sign or maybe just the nerve to do what we both want, but maybe it shouldn’t be happening.
“You’ve got—” he says, his voice rough, thumb lifting gently to brush a bit of cheesecake from the corner of my lip.It’s innocent.Barely a touch.But my whole body goes still.Everything feels too loud inside me.
His thumb lingers.Just for a second too long.
“Thanks,” I whisper, though I’m not entirely sure what for.
Neither of us moves.The silence between us turns hot.Electric.Dangerous.
“You keep looking at me like that,” he murmurs, “and I’m going to stop pretending this is a game.”
I should laugh.Say something flippant.Diffuse the tension with sarcasm and plausible deniability, maybe even add some emotional imbalance.
But I don’t.
I just watch him because if I’m honest with myself, I want him to stop acting, too.
He reaches for my hand slowly, fingers grazing mine before he curls them around my wrist and stands, pulling me with him.
There’s no words between us until we’re in the room at the edge of the bed.
“Tell me to stop.”
“This is a bad idea,” I breathe.
“Terrible,” he agrees, already leaning in.
I close my eyes just before his mouth finds mine.
And when it does—everything else falls away.
ChapterThirty-Two
Soren
She tastes like cinnamon,cider, and the promise of every holiday I never knew I wanted.Sweet and sharp and too damn good to let go of.
I’m kissing her, but it’s not just a kiss.It’s a wish—wild and wordless, aching through every cell of my body.One I didn’t know I made until her mouth opened for me, until her tongue brushed mine like she was saying yes without needing a single word.
And when she doesn’t pull away—when her lips part wider and her tongue slides against mine, soft and slow and wanting—when her fingers fist into my shirt like she’s afraid I’ll disappear—I forget every reason I shouldn’t be doing this.Every rule.Every line we swore we wouldn’t cross dissolves under the heat of her mouth.
This kiss feels like gravity finally picking sides.As if the world tilted in her favor, and I’ve been stumbling toward her my whole damn life.
My hand finds her cheek, then buries into her hair, cradling the back of her head like she’s sacred.Fragile.Mine.
She leans in, melts into me, and when she sighs—low and breathless as if my kiss unraveled something deep inside her—something shifts in my chest.
Something so permanent it brands itself beneath my ribs.I’m already ruined for anyone who isn’t her.She’s in my arms.Warm, breathing, kissing me like we were always meant to find our way to this moment.
I am so fucking gone for her, it’s not even funny.
I pull back just a breath, enough to look at her.
Her lips are parted, kiss-drunk and stunned.Her cheeks are flushed.There’s this dazed, wide-eyed look in her eyes, like she’s wondering if this is happening or if she dreamed it.
I want to tell her everything I’m feeling.
