Page 7 of Baby, It Snowed Outside

“If he finds the Jeep here. If he finds out I lied, we’ll both be in trouble.” She pleas.

“He won’t. We’ve never gotten caught before.” My words are reassuring. “What you need is to warm up. Come over by the fire and listen to it crackle. It’s hot enough for cocoa.” My voice is deep and calm. It whispers, begging for her to listen. Aspen’s body relaxes into mine and I offer her my hand, pulling her to the hearth.

I spin Aspen, wrapping my arms around her and rubbing them over hers as we lean into the warmth from the fire. This position has our bodies pressed together so closely I’m sure if she wanted to, she could easily brush against me and feel how hard I am. For a brief moment, I contemplate intentionally letting her in on my little secret, but then she falls against my chest, nuzzling into the crook of my neck with a sigh. “I’m glad you let me talk you into this.” I whisper in a husky voice as my lips accidentally brush against her ear.

“Me too but really, I should try to make it home. I shouldn’t have lied to my parents like that.” She’s feeling guilty, her body tenses in my arms uncomfortably.

My finger tips brush beneath her chin, tilting it up to look at me over her shoulder. I hold her gaze. “Beautiful girl, please don’t hurry home. I don’t want to wake up alone on Christmas.”

She swallows hard, not looking away. “Fine, you convinced me. No one should have to be alone on Christmas. How about making that hot cocoa you promised me?”

“One big cup of cocoa coming right up.” I drop her chin. “Why don’t you put another record on while I pour all the ingredients into the kettle?”

“Okay, but then I believe a change of clothes is in order. I didn’t almost freeze to death for nothing, you know.” Her eyes glow with mischief in the light from the fire.

“I guess that means I need to open your gift. I wonder what you got me this year?” I laugh and she joins in.

“I don’t know. I guess you’ll just have to open it and find out.” She teases.

This girl is making it impossible to keep from thinking about her in all the ways I shouldn’t be. Breck is going to kill me if he finds out about this.

From my place by the fire, I steal as many glances as possible at Aspen. She’s thumbing through the records, pretending like we both don’t know exactly what she’s going to pick. My lips curl up in an impish half-smile. I like predictable. It’s fucking sexy, and standing right within my reach, taunting me to act on these feelings I’ve been hiding for so long. The way I allow my eyes to linger over her body should be a sin. I admire the way my sweatpants swoop around the curve of her hips, barely hanging on, tempting me to slide them down her long slender legs. How I wish I could. I swallow hard, fighting back the urges in an attempt to maintain control. I could admire her for hours, my eyes gliding over her curves like the slopes of a snow-covered mountain. The truth is, I’ve been stealing long looks at Aspen for as long as I can remember.

She almost catches me staring, but I turn in time to slide the kettle onto the metal crane and pop it into the fire. Behind me, I can sense the way she’s analyzing my behavior. The way she’s staring, it’s like she’s luring me into looking back over my shoulder at her. The cocoa doesn’t take very long. I’m not sure I dare to get lost in those captivating eyes of hers. My chest is aching to know what it’s like to feel her lips against mine. Despite my better judgment, I look over my shoulder. Her eyes immediately trap me in a hypnotic trance. Neither one of us looks away. There’s a snap of electricity in the air as if the universe is pointing out a tether between the two of us, forcing an inevitable end where we lay tangled up in one another’s arms. I swear she feels it too. We don’t say a word. We don’t need to. Everything I’m feeling, she’s feeling too. My head swirls with a million thoughts, and yet every single one of them is about her. The way she smells like sugar cookies and crisp cranberries every year at Christmas. If lust had a scent, it could be named Aspen.

Behind me, the fire crackles and pops as the kettle hisses a warning demanding to be pulled out. Instinctively, I look away and reach for the pot holders. My hands work on autopilot while my brain attempts to catch up with what’s going on.

“The cocoa is ready. Bring your old soul over here, and I’ll give it a pour.” I holler over the soft jazzy Christmas songs crooning from the record player. Another one of her favorites, just as I suspected.

“You’re one to talk about old souls. You know just as well as I do you’re part of the old soul club.” She giggles at her own joke as she dances over to where I’m waiting.

I roll my eyes with a scoff, pouring the creamy liquid into two mugs. The steam twists through the air as the decadent liquid goes, sloshing into the cups. The rich, chocolatey aroma wafts into our nostrils. “Would you like to make a toast?” I ask, blowing on the cup before handing it to her.

“No, you can make the toast. I’m not good at that stuff.” She replies, shifting awkwardly.

It’s fucking adorable the way she’s so self-conscious. Not wanting to disappoint her, I grab my glass, buying a few minutes to work up the nerve to put into words what I am thinking right now.

I clear my throat and look deep into her eyes. “Cheers to another year spent exactly where the universe thinks we need to be. Merry Christmas Eve, Aspen. I hope I have not disappointed you as a host tonight. Thank you for, once again, making another Christmas mean something more than loneliness. You mean a lot to me. I’m glad I got the chance to be snowed in with you.” My voice is raspy as I finish the toast. Then, raising my glass in the air, I whisper, “Merry Christmas, Aspen.”

“Cheers,” she whispers back.

I start to pull her to the window seat so we can curl up and watch the snow, but she catches me by the arm and stops me. Our lips are dangerously close. My heartbeat quickens, and I drop my lips closer. There’s barely any space between us. If I wanted to press my lips against hers, I easily could, but I hang back, unsure if this is where she wants to go. I could never ask her to risk a relationship with Breck. I wish I could tell her I would rather lose my best friend than go another minute living without kissing her, but I bite my tongue instead. She has to want this. She has to break the rules, not me. We remain suspended in time, engaged in the most epic battle of tug-of-war. Neither one of us is ready to make the first move, and it’s only a matter of time before somebody caves. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, coaxing me into thinking she’s about to kiss me. I can practically taste her breath. We’re so close now. My eyes hood over and I count to three. I can’t believe Aspen is going to kiss me.

Chapter five

Aspen

What am I thinking? I pull away at the last second and trudge over to the window seat to curl up. This is one of my favorite spots in Zane’s entire house. I bet we’d love his bedroom even more. I squash my thoughts and snatch a soft chunky knit blanket from the basket between the hearth and the window seat. With a silent sigh, I climb into my favorite spot to sulk, avoiding Zane, because I can’t bring myself to even look at him. He’s probably standing right where I left him, looking as confused as I am feeling. I thought I had things all figured out earlier and my plan was going perfectly. Sitting on his lap like that took him by surprise—the way I knew it would—but then when it came time to kiss him, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I’m such a chicken. What am I so afraid of, anyway? You know exactly what you’re afraid of. You’re afraid of Breck finding out and it changing things. I sigh internally as I fight with myself.

I set my cup on the windowsill for a second, as I climb into my favorite spot. The plush pillows melt around me when I pause to wrap the blanket around myself. The snow falls heavy outside, making it easy to get lost in the swirling flakes. It captivates and mesmerizes my attention. I feel so fucking guilty for leading him on like that. If I can’t make the first move, it will never happen. I know him. Zane’s loyal to a fault, even if he feels the same way I do; he would never act on it like that. He would never betray my brother. I blow on my cocoa, then take a small sip. I can hear Zane rummaging around, and glance over at him in curiosity. He’s digging in the removable panel of the coffee table, which brings a smile to my lips. There’s no way, I internally smirk, but then again I guess I can’t really say I put it past him. If there’s one thing rich kids have in common, it’s the habits. We all have our vices, some of which the three of us discovered together the same summer we spent sneaking out and stealing the car.

When he surfaces, he’s holding an air sealed bag full of weed. I giggle. Breaking the awkward silence that formed when I stepped away, leaving him with his eyes closed, waiting for the soft brush of my lips.

“I knew it would be safe there.” He smiles mischievously and waggles his eyebrows at me.

I laugh because he’s right. His mother may be ridiculous, but her neglectfulness sometimes has its benefits.

“I put it in right before I left.” He offers, despite my silence. “It’s been a really long night. What do you say? Do you want to open it up and see if it’s still any good?”

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