Page 42 of Holiday Interference

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Just to feel more of him. Just to steal a little more of that heat.

But I stop.

My fingers flex where they’re curled under my pillow.

My chest pulls tight with restraint I don’t want to have.

If I move now—if I reach for him—I won’t stop at just curling into his side.

And I don’t think he’d stop me.

But this...

This means something. I don’t know how I know it does, but I know it in my gut.

And I’m not ready to touch what it means. Not yet.

So I stay still.

Not because I want to.

But because it’s the only thing that keeps me from falling all the way in.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Cal

The first thingI register is heat.

Not the kind from the vents or the weak morning sun clawing through the blinds, but from her.

Noelle’s curled into me, one hand resting near the center of my chest like it belongs there. Her breath fans soft against my skin.

Slow and even. Unaware of where she’s laying.

She looks peaceful. Content.

And it fucking guts me.

Because I’m not.

I haven’t been since the second my mouth crashed into hers last night and rewired something I didn’t even know was broken.

I don’t regret it. Not for a goddamn second. But it’s still rattling around in my chest, shaking loose things I thought I’d buried good and deep.

I study her in the pale morning light. The way her lashes fan out. The faint crease between her brows even in sleep, like she’s always bracing for something.

She’s wearing my shirt again—slipped on quick after last night, like armor. It’s too big, swallowing her in a way that makes my throat go dry.

That and the fact that I can feel the skin of her bare legs where she must have shucked my pants in the middle of the night.

I shouldn’t want this. Shouldn’t wantherthe way I do.

It’ll lead to nothing but trouble.

But I’ve never wanted anything more in my life. Not even on the ice.

Her fingers twitch against my chest, and I ease out from under them before I do something I can’t take back.

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