Page 45 of Accidentally Under Your Tree

Running a hand down my face, I begged to a higher power for strength as I downed the glass of water in thirsty gulps.

I braced my hands on either side of the sink, glowering at my reflection in the window above it.

My smarter half was about to win out when an uncorked bottle of red wine on the counter caught my attention. From behind the basement door, came muffled Christmas music.

Even my smarter self fell quiet.

Lizzy

Four nights before Christmas

A slice of dim light cut down the stairs when Will opened the basement door. I knew it was him, like I knew the thrum of my pulse. My fingers tingled, remembering the strands of his hair between them, the press of his powerful body. I was foolish when it came to him—If we'd been caught making out behind coats…I wouldn’t survive the humiliation. I couldn't find it in me to care.

Not when leaving him had felt like deprivation.

My aching need grew with every detail I learned about him. He'd been so sweet in the car on the way to the stable, maneuvering the conversation to include me and Rose. Asking us questions about our favorite Christmas gifts, we had the same answer: a trip to Hawaii for our senior year spring break. We'd talked over each other, recalling hiking to waterfalls, and snorkeling, and laughing at our dad discovering he loved fresh ocean fish. Both of us doing our best impression of him repeating, "This is ridiculous."

Will's favorite gift was from his mom, his childhood dog, Scout. "She was a good dog," he'd said, his voice etched with reminiscence.

He had a comfort with vulnerability that most people struggled with—me included. But in the presence of his openness, I found my guard dropping—allowing the shattered pieces of my heart to fit back together.

And then the way he'd swooped in and handled Mitchell. Will's protective side was just as sexy as every other angle I'd seen of him.

"Hello," he whispered from the top of the stairs.

"Hi," I whispered back.

I barely heard him close the door over the softly playing music. His descent was near silent, each step punctuated my anticipation, amping up my excitement.

We were alone.

Finally.

Taking the last step, he planted his feet shoulder width apart. His white T-shirt was loose around his waist but fitted to his shoulders and pecs. His gray sweatpants sat low on his hips. He looked perfectly confident, except for his bare toes curling and uncurling on the carpet.

With the tilt of his head, he lifted the wine bottle I'd left upstairs. "Can I top you off?"

I resisted the corny urge to answer,Thought you'd never ask. Instead, I nodded and lifted my nearly empty glass.

"What are you doing down here in the dark?" he asked.

I jerked my head toward the laptop open on my lap. "Working."

Heat burned my cheeks as I realized that was what I intended, but I was actually scrolling through his Instagram. It'd lured me like a moth to the flame when I'd gone to the show's profile. The top post was the picture I'd taken earlier of him and Rose. In it he was looking at, or possibly just past, the camera with an intensity I recognized.

The top comment was from @iliketodoitmyself saying,If Bill looked at me the way he's looking at the camera I would combust.

Girl, same,I thought, but I didn't respond.

I sat my glass on the side table angling my computer away from Will. Judging by his lifted eyebrow, I didn't angle far enough.

"Is that me?" He leaned down, putting a hand on the back of the sofa, the knuckle of his thumb touching my shoulder. That one point of contact was enough for my heart rate to jump. My lungs wanted more air, but I was sure he'd notice if I started panting.

"It's pro bono work," I lied.

He lifted a skeptical eyebrow.

"Your social media presence is the bedrock of your advertisement efforts. Should you ever suffer from scandal or a change in algorithm, it'd be wise to establish a few other avenues to drive business."

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