Page 81 of When in December

I am capable.

I was almost certain at some point I was going to see an affirmation that went something like,I can handle another day of working with this walking asshole who makes life hell.

“It sucks that you had to deal with all that. That you had to deal with other people who made you deal with all that,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

Poppy paused, studying me. It was as if she was unsure, or shocked I’d said anything at all.

At some point, we’d gotten closer to each other. I could almost feel the breath of her words on my cheek when she spoke. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me.”

She stared at me through tired, half-lidded eyes. “Thank you for taking my pain seriously. Thank you for takingmeseriously.”

“Anyone who didn’t would be a fool.”

I would know. I had been one.

Maybe I still was one. I couldn’t stop myself from looking at her. I couldn’t’ stop thinking about how soft her skin would be if I reached out and brushed my thumb over one of her rosy cheeks, which I’d thought was from her embarrassment or the cold, but it was just her.

And now, I didn’t move as my eyes turned from her jaw toward her mouth.

God, I had been looking at those lips for days. When she laughed and then opened wide to reveal her perfectly pearly teeth. When she pressed them together as she shook her head at me or, even better, when they pursed just so—not quite a pout, but not quitenotone either—and her cheeks got all red in a way where I was dying to know what was going on in thathead of hers. What in the world would this well-behaved little homemaker have to say to me that made her face so scarlet?

So angry.

Right now, her cheeks burned in a different way, a heady pink, as I leaned in closer. Her breath caught, parting those plush lips.

“You know what, Snow Angel?”

“Huh?” She looked down at my mouth.

I knew I shouldn’t do it. I wasn’t a complete idiot.

But I was starting to think,For Poppy Owens? Oh, yeah. I am an idiot for her.

“Being professional is overrated.”

So, it was no surprise when I leaned in that final inch and kissed her.

seventeen

. . .

Poppy

This isn’t happening.

I’d said it more than once in the past few days. But this time, I meant it more than ever before.

This cannot be happening.

But it oh-so clearly was.

Just like that, Aaron Hayes was kissing me.

Again.

This time was so different from the last kiss, when he had been slightly drunk and I was not. Now, we both tasted like the bubbly bottled beer, which I normally hated, but currently, I felt like it was everything I’d ever wanted and more. Shifting forward, he angled his lips over mine to take the kiss deeper. His hand cupped the other side of my face, keeping me still for his mouth to continue its delicate exploration.

---