Page 15 of Christmas With My Ex

As I wait, my heart beats a little faster. I don’t know why I’m so thrilled, but I am. Maybe I love crème brûlée as much as she does and I didn't realize it.

I know it isn't the dessert that has me all excited.

The bartender hands me the bag, and I grab it as I head toward the elevator. My pulse is racing. I still can’t believe she actually wants this. I shoot her a quick message before stepping inside the elevator.

What’s your room number?

The reply comes almost instantly.

412. Don’t be late.

I make my way to the fourth floor, my mind spinning with the possibilities. The elevator dings, and I step out into the quiet hallway, my footsteps muffled on the carpet as I approach her door.

I knock lightly, holding the dessert in one hand. For a second, I feel a flash of doubt. Before I can second-guess myself any further, the door swings open.

Rives is standing there on one foot, using the door for support. Her hair is slightly tousled and she is wearing a simple sweater and leggings. She looks even more beautiful now than she did just a couple of hours ago, and the sight of her nearly knocks the breath out of me.

She doesn’t say a word. Instead, she smiles softly, steps aside. Then, before I can react, she reaches out, grabs the front of my shirt, and pulls me inside.

The bag of desserts falls forgotten as our lips crash together. She leans into me for stability and I welcome her full weight on me.

Her warmth envelops me, igniting a fire I've tried to ignore for years. I cup her face, deepening the kiss as she sighs against my mouth.

"Rives," I breathe, breaking away to trail kisses down her neck. She arches into me, her hands roaming my back.

Remembering her injury, I gently lift her, careful of her knee. She wraps her legs around my waist, and I press her against the wall, supporting her.

"Nicholas," she moans, sending shivers down my spine. I've dreamed of hearing her say my name like this again.

My hands find the hem of her sweater, fingertips grazing the soft skin beneath. She tugs at my hair, guiding my mouth back to hers for another searing kiss.

The world fades away, leaving only us, our shared breaths, and the heat building between us. Every touch is electric, reigniting the passion that is very clearly still there.

The taste of her lips is intoxicating, a sexy mix of sweetness and the faintest hint of wine.

It's like I'm being pulled into another life, where memories and the present converge. Her curves mold against me, her hands weaving through my hair, pulling me closer, melding us into one.

I've imagined this moment, secretly, since I saw those beautiful blue eyes today on the mountain, seeing her there helpless and defeated. But I never allowed myself to believe it could happen. Yet here we are, the past and present colliding with a force that leaves me breathless.

My hands roam her body, relearning the contours that I once knew so well. Every touch, every sigh from her lips fans the flames of my desire. I want her with an intensity that's almost overwhelming, a need that's been suppressed for far too long.

But just as quickly as it began with her pulling me in, the world suddenly tilts on its axis. Rives hobbles back, breaking the spell. Her eyes are wide, a flicker of uncertainty passing through them.

"Nicholas, I—" she starts, her voice a whisper that cuts through the silence of the room. "I'm sorry, maybe this is a bad idea. I’m sorry.”

Her words hang in the air, heavy and unexpected. I'm caught in the undertow of my emotions, my heart pounding in my chest. The taste of her lingers on my lips, a raw desire to have them back on me consumes me.

I search her face, trying to understand, to find the words that might bridge the gap that's abruptly formed between us. I desperately want to convince her that it is an amazing idea, but I'm not sure it is.

But, God, I've never wanting anything more.

"Rives," I say, my voice steady despite the turmoil within me. "You don't have to apologize. We've both been caught off guard. It’s an emotional time.”

She looks at me, her expression a mixture of longing and hesitation. I can see the conflict raging inside her, a storm as fierce as the one that rages outside.

I reach out, hesitating before I gently brush a stray lock of hair from her face. "I want whatever will make you feel the most comfortable," I assure her, though every part of me is screaming for her, aching to pull her back into my arms. I want her to feel most comfortable in my arms.

Rives nods, a small, grateful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Thank you, Nicholas," she says softly. "For understanding. I'm so sorry I lost my mind there for a moment."

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