Page 46 of Christmas Criminal

And I beam back at him.

Iwanthim to be proud of me. I want him to look at me like this, all the time.

He knows the story, but he doesn't trulyknow what I've been through. But he still looks at me like this moment has lit up his day.

It has me all sorts of gooey on the inside.

Nick tugs me closer, leaving a kiss on my forehead that has me jumping out of my skin.

He turns to Louis. "I hope one day you learn how to take accountability for your actions."

And if I know Nick as well as I think I do, that was his version of egging Louis Prince's house.

He nods once, quickly, and then steers us around the suddenly silent couple. Ahead of us is only a parking lot–Stacy and Louis must have just arrived–but we continue regardless.

We walk a few paces before his arm tightens around me, surrounded by only cars and the distant sound of Christmas music playing through the town square speakers.

"How did that feel?" he asks, his voice low in my ear as our pace slows. I recognize Nick’s car as we stop and he leans casually against one side. He makes no move to get in, and I find myself wondering if we were both just looking for a quieter place to exist with one another, where children aren’t screaming all around us and Christmas music isn’t on blast.

I turn to him, a grin spreading across my face. "To be totally honest, I have this feeling in my gut like I went too far. I get that, sometimes, when I stand up for myself. But my life was impacted significantly because of something he did, and yes, it was many years ago, but it felt good to say it. To put the onuson him for being the asshole, instead of myself for keeping quiet and pretending like it doesn't still hurt sometimes."

Nick puts his hands on my shoulders again, his fingers running through my hair. "You did good, Noelle."

"Yeah?"

He nods, and I can't fight the pull to him anymore. I crash into his chest, wrapping my arms around him and squeezing him tight. His arms wrap around my neck a moment later.

"I'm glad you were finally able to tell off the dickhead."

I laugh into his chest, nuzzling into him where his coat is unzipped.

He tightens around me, swaying slightly, and when I look up at him, he only stares me down, a slight smile on his face as his fingers drift through my hair.

And something about the way he's holding me, looking at me so gently, makes me stand on my toes, my lips brushing hesitantly across his jaw. I pause afterward, gauging his reaction, but he seems almost stunned.

His eyes search my face, his fingers still moving through my hair in a way that sends little tingles flying across my scalp.

And then he leans down and kisses me so lightly that I might actually start drifting through the air and fly away.

I grab at him, fisting his shirt in my hand and pressing my lips against his. A moan escapes me, betraying the warmth building in my abdomen. I press myself against him as his fingers move up higher in my hair, resting on the back of my head and pulling me closer. His other hand dips beneath my coat, his fingers impossibly warm on the small of my back.

A strangled sound escapes him as he twists us, pressing me up against the car. His lips move against mine, our delicate touch morphing into something more primal. He licks at the seam of my lips and his tongue enters my mouth, tangling with mine in a way that has me two seconds from dropping to myknees and freeing him from his jeans. My leg lifts, my heel finding the back of his leg and tugging him closer.

I'm desperate to feel him.

"Noelle," he mutters against my lips, his kiss slowing our frenzy.

"Nick," I say, and it comes out sounding like a moan.

"Noelle," he repeats, his mouth moving to my cheek, his lips brushing against the skin of my neck. "We can't."

I nod. "Right," I say, grabbing hold of his chin and pulling his mouth back to mine. "We can't."

He kisses me forcefully. Intentionally. He has me pinned against the car, his lips moving against mine as my hips search for friction. He makes a guttural noise deep in his throat as I dig my fingers into his neck, keeping him close.

"Noelle," he says, his voice sharp as he pulls away. He takes a step back, but rests his hands on the car on either side of me. His hair is all sorts of wild, his glasses askew. The dim light emanating from the fair casts one side of his face in shadow, like a hint of the caveman underneath the math teacher persona is showing through.

Because of me. I'm pulling out the man underneath it all. His weakness or his poison, I'm not sure.

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