Page 69 of 12 Days of Mistletoe

My bottom lip is caught between his teeth when the door beside mine opens up and we freeze in place, wrapped up in one another. I am sandwiched between Elliot and this wall. Even my lip is his prisoner.

Mrs. Bell peers at us, just two feet away from her open apartment door. Her long floral nightdress is wrinkled, suggesting she got out of bed to investigate the commotion.

I drop my heels to the ground and my lip slides out from Elliot’s grasp. “Good evening, Mrs. Bell,” I say, my arms still around Elliot’s neck.

Her dim eyes flick up to Elliot’s face. He clears his throat and blinks down at her, still holding me tight against him. “Hi, there.”

She rolls her eyes at him good and dramatic, as if she were a fifteen-year-old girl rather than what she is—close to a century in years and experience. Surely Mrs. Bell has seen a man kiss a woman before. Surely, she’s been kissed. She balks once more before heading back inside her apartment.

“Um,” Elliot says. His hand presses to my back, no indication that he’s letting go any time soon. “I should probably go.”

“Yeah, probably,” I say.

His neck bobs in a swallow and slowly, he loosens his hold on me. His fingers brush over the skin on my wrist, and his eyes stay glued to my face for just a second longer.

And then, he goes, our night at an end.

THIRTY-FOUR

bonnie

I amthe most distracted dog walker in all the world. Poor Mitzie. I keep pausing every four steps to send a text to my sister.

Meg: So, you just made out in the hallway, right in front of poor Mrs. Bell?

Me: All kissing stopped the minute Mrs. Bell came onto the scene. Talk about a mood killer.

Meg: So there was a mood? I thought you said it was practice.

I don’t need kissing practice. I’m a great kisser. At least that’s what my one and only boyfriend, Joey Saunders, always said.

Meg: Who am I kidding? We both know that was a lie. So, you’re crushing onyour fake boyfriend?

Me: Maybe.

Meg: Yes or no?

Me: MAYBE.

Meg: Do you often make out with guys you don’t like?

Me: Maybe.

Meg: Bonnie! What does Noel think?

I laugh and take six more steps just for Mitzie—she really wants to smell that light pole.

Me: Noel has been closed-lipped on the subject. Imagine that.

Meg: We both know your dog has more human reactions than canine.

I smirk and peer down at Noel, who is so much more patient with my distraction than Mitzie. I also feel a pang of longing and love for my sister for acknowledging Noel like she does.

Me: She likes him. They’re friends.

Meg: Well, there you go.

Me: There I go… where am I going?

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