My mouth was dry by the time I looked back at her face, and her cheeks had reddened with my obvious perusal.
I cleared my throat, my voice low. “You look amazing, Elizabeth.”
Stunning. Breathtaking.
One of her hands fluttered up to her neck, and she self-consciously toyed with a piece of hair that had fallen from the twist. “Thank you.”
Finally, unease seemed to cause her to tear herself away. She turned her back to me, leaving the door open.
“Come on in. Let me grab my purse and coat.”
The words rushed from her mouth in a tumble, an awkwardness rising in the air, tension that neither of us knew how to deal with. The click of her heels on her hardwood floor punctuated the nerves firing between us.
And I should have known it would be this way, that like Elizabeth had said, whatever this was could no longer be ignored.
The second I stepped through her apartment door, it all crashed over me—the way she had smelled, the way she had tasted, the way she had felt.
My body reacted, and I was picturing her up against the counter, could hear the sounds that had whispered from her mouth.
I squeezed my eyes and attempted to will it away. Maybe Elizabeth was right. Maybe I couldn’t be around her, because I could do nothing to control the desire from belting me now.
When she looked back at me, I knew she felt it, too.
Regret twitched her face as her eyes flitted to the same spot where my mind had just been, but then she turned away and pulled on a long, heavy gray coat.
She grabbed a small purse she clutched in her hand. “Are you ready to go?”
Forcing the reaction down, I smiled, and this time I made it a promise. I would do anything to ensure we were okay. “Yup. Let’s get out of here.”
I swung the door open and stood aside so she could go ahead of me before I followed her out the door. I jiggled her knob to be sure it was locked.
Our footsteps echoed as we carefully made our way down the stairwell. Elizabeth walked slower than normal, traversing the stairs in heels, her breaths short and rasped and filling up the enclosed space.
“Are you nervous?” I asked.
Slowing, she glanced over her shoulder, that same expression on her face. “Yes.”
My feet couldn’t move when she looked at me that way, and I gripped the railing and sucked in a breath when that feeling struck me again.
Elizabeth continued on, and cold air gusted into the stairwell when Elizabeth opened the door.
Ahead of me, she held open the door, fighting a shudder and dipping her head in an attempt to protect herself from the surge of winter blanketing the city that blasted into the stairwell.
Fumbling to a stop, she pressed her hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. She pushed the door wide and rushed out into the night.
What was she doing?
The door swung closed behind her, and I found my footing and ran down the last few steps to follow her out.
I froze just outside the door.
Elizabeth was there, in the middle of the sidewalk, her arms and face raised to the sky as she slowly spun in a circle.
I stuffed my hands in my pockets to block out some of the chill and stood there watching as little flecks of snow flitted down and melted on the soft skin of Elizabeth’s face.
It was one of the most meager shows of snowfall I’d ever seen, but to Elizabeth, it appeared to be the most magical thing she’d ever witnessed.
The smile on her face was enough to light up the whole town.
Enough to light up my life.
She spun around, looked back at me as if I hadn’t been the culprit of our downfall five days earlier.
Flashes of joy sparked in her eyes. “Christian . . . can you believe it? It’s snowing.”
She shook her head in awe and lifted her face back to the lights reflected in the stormy night sky.
Wrapped up in this momentous event, Elizabeth seemed to be more thankful than I had the capacity to make sense of because it was something I’d taken for granted my entire life.
Beauty.
It slammed into me so hard it nearly knocked me from my feet. At the same time, it felt completely natural.
Inevitable.
Simple.
I loved her.
My eyes dropped closed, savoring the truth soaking my body, my nerves thrilling in excitement while my heart beat with a steady content.
I loved her.
I opened my eyes to find her staring over at me, her arms held up just at her sides, as if she’d caught sight of me and had been trapped in that very spot. “What’s wrong?”
A breath escaped through my nose, manifested in the cold air, the space between us too great. “Nothing’s wrong, Elizabeth. Everything is perfect.”
Her nose curled up a little, and her head barely tipped to the side. I thought maybe she didn’t quite believe me and was searching for something.
A question piqued her gentle smile, before she turned her attention back to the fleeting white dotting the sky.
I wondered if she could she see it in me the same way I’d seen it in her. If she knew in that moment she’d unlocked something in me, and I’d never be the same.
She stole one last glance at the fluttering sky. “We’d better grab a cab or we’re going to be late.”
I shook myself off. “Yeah. You ready for this?”
Light laughter tipped from Elizabeth’s mouth, the sound echoing in the stiff winter air. “No, not at all.”
I came in close to her side, smiled down at the girl I loved. “Me neither.”
Elizabeth
The hushed winter pressed down from above. Flurries danced as they fell.
Expanding my lungs with a breath of freezing cold air, I struggled to quell the hammer knocking against my ribs, sought the peace found in the beauty of this night sky.
Christian’s fingers brushed down the inside of my arm before he wound them at the crook of my elbow. His fingertips pulsed twice at the sensitive spot, as if tapping out a message, before they settled and found a secure hold burrowed in my skin.
A flit of uncontained nerves rose as goose bumps along my flesh, and I bit at my lip to cover my reaction.
I didn’t know if I could ever feel better than I did right then.
A sense of awe sank down deep into my bones, softening the reservations I had about agreeing to attend this dinner with Christian.
Never before had I seen snow. The spots where it had fallen and melted against my skin still stung and burned, but the memory covered me like an embrace.
But it was Christian’s touch that had my head spinning.
I guessed when I’d agreed to this dinner, I thought we’d fight to get back to the place where we were just friends. I thought we’d shove our feelings down like we’d been doing for so long, and that those feelings would fester and grow until we found ourselves in a situation so much like the one we’d been in last Friday night.
I peeked up at him just as he looked down to catch my wondering gaze.
One side of his mouth lifted, his eyes soft as they traced my face, and he squeezed my arm a little tighter.
Going back didn’t seem to be a part of Christian’s intentions.
Something had changed from the moment Christian had shown up at my apartment door until he held onto me now, as if the beauty falling around us had the power to chase away all our unanswered questions.
He leaned in close to my face, his head tilted to the side. “I’m so glad you’re coming.”
He’d broken me down so easily.
Relief had come like the blaring horn of a freight train when I’d seen him standing outside my class, his beautiful face marred with the same affliction I’d drowned in for the last week.
I’d tried to resist him, to tell him why I had to be true to the decision I’d made.
But in the end, I’d missed him too much. The hole he left behind was too
great. There was nothing I could do but concede.
Being around him had become a risk I was willing to take.
“I’m glad I am, too.”
He pulled back a bit, and his smile widened before he turned to raise his free hand to hail an approaching cab.
Our breaths rose up and mixed in the crisp night air. The fingers loosened at my arm and glided down to take my hand as the cab pulled to the curb. Christian opened the door and stood aside.
“Scoot in first.” He pressed his palm lightly to the small of my back.
Energy sparked with the light contact. My heart leapt to my throat.
Being around Christian had thrown my nerves into overdrive.
I scooted all the way across the back seat. Adjusting my skirt, I pulled the seat belt across my chest and snapped it in place.
Christian plopped down beside me with a heavy exhale. “I can’t believe how cold it is out there.”
He puffed hot air from his lungs into the cup of his hands before he rubbed them together, then turned his face my direction.
Dim light from the streetlamps bled through the windows, illuminating the confined space. Chunks of black hair had come loose from the style he’d tried to tame it into, pieces sticking up in every direction they shouldn’t be.
His chin was held strong in an emotion I didn’t understand, his mouth twisted in a timid smile.
But his eyes . . . Was I wrong, what I saw there? The same thing I thought I’d glimpsed on the sidewalk when we left my apartment five minutes earlier?
I got lost there, in the expression of his face that conveyed everything I wanted him to feel.
Internally, I cautioned myself.
Images from last weekend sped in blips across my vision.
I thought of how I’d begged him with my body before I’d begged him with my mouth to feel the same way I did, and I was haunted by his expression when he’d walked out my door.
I had to remember the devastation that had made it hard to get out of bed in the days he’d been gone.
The truth was, I was so desperate for him that I would delude myself into believing this was something it was not. The cliff was so close, my knees weak and my feet fumbling as I struggled to balance, my heart on the line. I was one slip from complete destruction. Christian would own me with a flick of his fingers.
He leaned forward and grasped the headrest in his hands, giving the driver directions to the restaurant. His long body filled the small space, his knees pressed up against the back of the seat.
The driver nodded, and Christian sat back and adjusted himself into a comfortable position, pulling the seatbelt across his chest.
The car merged into traffic, the silence thick as the simmering darkness within the cab surrounded us.
I stole a glance to my left. Well, it wasn’t exactly stolen since Christian was already looking at me.
He rested one side against the door, his elbow on the windowsill and his head propped in his hand as he unabashedly stared. Streetlamps flashed through the windows in quick succession as the cab traveled down the road, illuminating flickers of the stark intensity of his blue eyes.
Heat rose to my cheeks and a gradual tingle diffused across my skin. If I could have, I would have turned away, but I was trapped, locked in whatever was happening deep in the recesses of Christian’s mind.
It was smothering, surged out in waves, a tide that seemed to break against us both.
I squirmed in my seat, and Christian wet his lips, the lump in his throat bobbing as he swallowed.
“Are you missing your mom today?”
His question jarred me from the turmoil tumbling through my mind, reminding me that, no matter what, Christian was my best friend. He cared about me.
“Yeah.” Although really, half the day had been spent worrying that I’d made a mistake when I gave in to him yesterday. Of course, the other half had been watching the clock because I couldn’t wait to see him again.
I cleared the surprise from my throat. “I talked to my mom earlier. My older sister, Sarah, and her husband are going over to my mom’s, and of course my little sister is there. I didn’t get to tell you . . . Sarah is having a baby. I get to be an aunt.”
With the thought, a big smile pulled up at one corner of my mouth. I felt bad that I hadn’t taken enough time to think of my sister, how amazing her news was, that she was bringing a child into this world.
I couldn’t wait to see that baby’s precious face.
Christian’s face murmured a smile. “Yeah? That’s awesome, Elizabeth. I bet you wish you were there right now.”
My shoulders rose in an uncertain shrug. Did I? I knew I should. But right then, I felt like this was exactly where I was supposed to be.
One side of his mouth quivered. “Does it make me selfish that what I’m giving thanks for today is you being here with me?” He shifted and fidgeted with a button on his coat. “I don’t know where I’d be right now if it hadn’t been you in that café at the beginning of the year.”
“Christian.” Unrecognizable questions wove into my tone, so much contained in just his name.
My pulse spiked when Christian slid his hand slowly across the seat, the movement calculated. His chin tipped to the side and he flipped his hand so his palm was up. This time, he didn’t just take my hand or guide me into what he wanted.
He waited.
It was an invitation, one subject to a decision from me.
My eyes flicked from his hand to his face. I wavered, a gush of air suffusing into the cab as I deliberated.
I wanted to ask him, what does this mean?
I wanted reassurance. For him to ease the ache that had bound itself to the beat of my heart, for him to say he wanted me in the same way I wanted him, and that I wasn’t making the biggest mistake of my young life.
Instead, I wove my fingers through his.
As if he found as much relief in the contact as I did, a sigh fluttered from Christian’s mouth, and he squeezed my hand.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said again, shaking me up more.
The cab came to a stop, bringing an end to whatever Christian and I had just shared.
Even if that was it, if we shared nothing more, I’d cherish it, because I would swear, for a few seconds, Christian knew he felt more, even if he didn’t know how to admit it.
Venting a sound of frustration, Christian wrenched a hand through his hair when the valet opened my door. He seemed as opposed to leaving the safety of the cab as I was.
“Looks like we’re here,” he said, stating the obvious as he pulled his hand from mine.
Inclining his head for me to go on, I accepted the help of the doorman and stood from the cab. For a moment, I was alone, fidgeting as a new dread came to settle in the pit of my stomach.
My nerves rocketed as I absorbed my surroundings. Christian was right. The last people I wanted to spend Thanksgiving with were his parents, and the last place I wanted to spend it was somewhere like this. No question the building was beautiful, but pretention poured from its walls, an excessive display of glass and marble and brass.
What the hell was I doing here? I normally wasn’t one of those girls who felt ill at ease in their own skin. I liked who I was. But here, I had no place.
Christian sidled up to me. Like it belonged there, his hand went straight to the small of my back. “Let’s get you out of the cold,” he encouraged, turning us up the runner.
The attendant opened the door and stood aside with a clipped nod of his head.
I lifted my gaze to Christian to find a slight grimace when he turned his chin down to me, an apology, as if he knew how nervous this all made me. I didn’t even know what we were anymore, and now I had to face his parents with all those dizzying questions mucking up my mind.
We checked our coats, and Christian led us to the podium where the maître de stood. “Reservation for Richard Davison.”
The man scanned his book. “The rest of your party has already ar
rived. Right this way.”
Subdued conversations created a dull hum in the overly elegant space. Waiters in tuxes balanced silver trays, flitting silently around the room. Light clatters of silverware seemed the most distinct sound.
I tensed amidst it all.
No.
Definitely not a place I wanted to spend Thanksgiving. It wasn’t as if I’d never been to a nice restaurant before, but this place was over the top.
Christian leaned in close to my shoulder and mumbled, “I told you this would be miserable.”
I faked a smile. “It’s fine. It’ll be great.”
He laughed under his breath. “You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met.”
His hand dropped from my back and found my hand, weaving our fingers together. Part of me wanted to jerk away, to stop the flow of confusion I felt from the overt gesture, to hide whatever this was from his parents, to cut off the longing it ignited within me, but I couldn’t let go.
Christian’s hand constricted on mine when the maître de stopped in front of his parents’ table.
The man dipped his head. “Your party.”
Christian said, “Thank you,” but I found I could give no response as I fixated on the couple in front of me.
Oh God. What had Christian dragged me into?
Two of the most beautiful people I’d ever seen sat looking up at us. My gaze waffled between the two of them, shocked by the striking resemblance Christian bore to his mother and stricken by the coldness in his father.
There was something about his hard stare that made it difficult to look away, although the man’s contemplation easily jumped between Christian and me.
There was little semblance between father and son other than the thatch of black hair perfectly tailored on Mr. Davison’s head.
His mother was waif thin and wore a silk two-piece skirt suit. Jewels dripped from every exposed surface of her body. I could only guess the long hair she had in a stylish coif had been dyed blonde, and she wore her chin permanently lifted in an elevated air of self-righteousness.
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