Page 68 of 12 Days of Mistletoe

We reach my door—it’s a short walk—and for the first time in three years, I’m wishing it were longer.

“Okay. Would two work?”

Elliot nods, hands in his pockets. “Two sounds good.”

We stand there a second longer and I try to think of something else to draw this conversation out.

He waits—for me, I realize. I need to unlock my door and let him go if I have nothing else to say.

I fumble with my keys, taking twice as long as normal to open up the front door. With the door open wide, Noel trots inside, finding her spot on the couch, and I turn to face Elliot. Timefor goodbye.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” he says.

“Yeah.” I nibble on my unsatisfied bottom lip and give him one assured nod.

He turns, and there’s something about Elliot’s back—his warm coat, his dark hair, his long legs—something that my body can’t allow to leave.

It’s the UKB. It’s making me feel all crazy and do things I wouldn’t normally do.

I can’t watch him walk away. “Elliot!” I bellow—so much louder than intended.

He whirls, a startled expression on his face.

Darn. I was hoping for passion. He looks as though he may need to save me from a sudden intruder or something.

“Today,” I say, my words coming out heavy and breathless. “I was stupid.” I wobble my head in a shake and shift from one foot to the other, clutching my keys with both of my hands.

His brows knit, studying me, trying to follow my ramblings.

“I kissed you on the couch without any warning. I?—”

“Oh, it’s?—”

But I can’t let him finish. I can’t let him tell meit’s okay,not if I’m going to finish any business tonight. I move one step closer to him. “I smacked my face into yours like Hulk Hogan smacking his face into a wrestling mat.” I attempt a laugh, but it’s rocky. “It was clumsy,” I add, all while suppressing a nervous hiccup.

He’s watching me, brows lowered, not objecting or agreeing.

“I’m not great on the fly like that. It was lousy.” I laugh, humorless and breathless, and set my hands on my hips. I bring my eyes up to his, feeling as if I am bearing it all—inthe hallway. “I might… needmorepractice.” My chest pounds with my thundering heart. Because this is more than putting myself out there. This is begging the man to kiss me.

And that confused look on his face gives me very little confidence.

“Okay…” He nods, but those brows are still cinched. “Morepractice.”

“Yes.” The word comes out with all my breath. “More practice.”

He stares at me and I stare back, preparing to crawl into a hole and take my UKB with me.

“Um, like now?” he says, his brow, all at once, smoothing out its wrinkles.

I can be brave and nervous all at the same time. I know I can. My anxiety forces bravery from me all of the time. The difference is—right now, at this moment, Iwantto be brave. “Right now,” I confirm.

He drops his arms to his sides and strides to me in one quick motion—so much so he’s a blur. His arms thread around my back and he leans in until his cold nose brushes mine. My breath exhales with a tremor and my rib cage warms with his broad chest pressing against me. Ocean-blue eyes rove over my face just centimeters from his, his breath hot on my skin fills me with mint and sugar. And then, his lips claim me.

There is no need to explain myself more.

Practice makes perfect, and he’s on it.

I drop my keys into my pocket and wind my arms around his neck, lifting up on my toes. Elliot’s arms around me tighten as he holds me closer. Closer. He presses nearer until my backside hits the wall beside my opened apartmentdoor. My lips move with his, the warmth of his body and breath washing over every inch of me.

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