Page 8 of Her Frosty Billionaire
Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “What, the great Noel Frost is afraid of a little chilly weather?”
The challenge in her voice was unmistakable. I set my glass down on a nearby table.
“Lead the way,” I said.
She handed her empty platter to one of her roommates—a blonde in a sequined sweater who immediately shot me a very obvious “I’m watching you” look—and headed for the doors. I followed.
The terrace was empty, lit only by string lights wrapped around the railings and the glow of the city below. The cold hit immediately, sharp and biting, but Hope didn’t seem to mind. She walked to the edge and leaned against the railing, looking out at the cityscape in front of us.
I came to stand beside her. “Better?” I asked.
She turned to face me, her breath visible in the cold air. “Much. I love parties, but sometimes you need a break from all the noise.”
“Agreed.”
We stood there for a moment in comfortable silence. The sounds of the party were muffled behind the glass doors—laughter, music, the clink of glasses.
“So,” she said finally, turning to look at me. “Why did you really come tonight?”
“I told you. Free food.”
“Liar.”
I met her eyes. She was watching me with that same open, curious expression she’d had when she showed up at my door. Like she actually wanted to know the answer.
I could lie. Make up something about networking or building community. But I didn’t.
“I wanted to see you again.”
Her lips parted in surprise. “Oh.”
“Is that okay?”
She nodded slowly. “Yeah. That’s…yeah.”
The air between us shifted, charged with something I couldn’t quite name. She was close enough that I could smell her perfume—something light and sweet, like vanilla and cinnamon.
Her eyes dropped to my mouth, then back up. “Noel?—”
“Hope—”
We both spoke at the same time, then laughed.
“You first,” I said.
She hesitated, then smiled. “I was just going to say I’m glad you came tonight.”
“Me too.”
The terrace door opened behind us, letting out a burst of warm air and Christmas music, and we both turned. One of the servers stepped out, glanced at us, then quickly retreated back inside.
When I looked back at Hope, she was shivering slightly. “Cold?” I asked.
“A little.”
“Want to go back in?”
She shook her head. “Not yet.”
