Page 75 of When the Fake Snow Falls

I’ve never seen him like this, and I think I’ve been wrong about him. This missing puzzle piece somehow changes the whole picture. He was committed, then he was hurt, and then he tried to distract himself from that hurt. Nothing about that makes him a fuckboy.

I don’t know what comes over me, but I kiss him. I kiss him, and for the first time since meeting him, I let my emotions slip into it. I let myself feel everything. All the hope, fear, and straight adrenaline that comes with falling for someone new.

When we pull apart, Chase lets out a slow whistle. “Damn, Candace. If I had known you’d kiss me like that, I would have told you my sob story a long time ago.”

A light laugh leaves my lips, and I trail my finger down his torso until I gently hook it into the front of his belt. “Tell me all your secrets, Chase. There’s no telling what I might do.”

He blinks, his wide eyes dropping to my finger before jumping up to meet my stare. God, he’s beautiful. I’d pay money to see this turned-on look of surprise on his face every day.

“When I was fourteen, my girlfriend dumped me in front of my friends in the cafeteria.”

Placing my hand on his chest, I gently push him away from me with a laugh.

I walk toward the door, and he adds, “In college, my shorts somehow ripped, and I had no idea until my roommate pointed it out to me that night.”

I reach for the door handle. “Are you coming?”

“My ass was out all day!” he says as he starts after me. “I flirted with girls!”

I look over my shoulder at him. “Something tells me you still made quite the impression.”

He grips the side of the door as he follows me back into the party. “Of course I did. But that’s not the point.”

I shake my head. “So humble.”

“You want to see me humble?” His hand wraps around my wrist and he pulls me to him. We’re standing under the mistletoe again, and I can’t help looking up at it before I meet his gaze. “The fact that you’re here with me humbles me. The fact that you let me touch you, kiss you, and act like you’re mine at all, humbles me.” He hooks his finger under my chin, and I forget how to breathe. “Youhumble me.”

“This is you humble?”

He grins. “Believe it or not, yes.” He gently weighs his head from side to side. “Humble and a little determined.”

“Determined?”

“Yes.”

My lips twist. “Determined to do what exactly?”

A dangerous smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. “To make sure you have a great time tonight.”

I smile. “I am having a great time.”

“Good.” He kisses my forehead. “Because it’s just getting started.”

thirty-four

There aretwo additional people seated at our table when we return. A middle-aged married couple by the names of Dawn and Rick. His black hair is starting to turn salt and pepper, and her laugh lines are adorable every time she grins at him. They make a cute couple, and they’re pleasant to talk to. Even Chloe and Brittany are more agreeable after the initial shock of meeting me. They love the fact that I’m a hairdresser and have a million questions regarding the best products available to them without a license.

Chase keeps his hand on my leg, which is mostly exposed thanks to the slit of the dress. As much as I talk and laugh with the people around us, I can’t stop thinking about everything he said on that balcony. His past, how he doesn’t want to be here, how he’shumbledby me. For someone I’ve been talking to every day since meeting him, he’s different from what I thought. There’s more to him than the confident flirt of a man who makes me laugh, and I should have known that. I’m disappointed I didn’t dig deeper sooner. Who knows what I would have uncovered by now?

The conversation at the table shifts to a more work-relatedtopic, and I welcome the break. Taking a sip of my wine, I listen to the chatter and let myself enjoy the steady movement of Chase’s fingers tracing circles along my inner thigh. Heat settles between my legs, and every time his hand inches a fraction higher, my breathing halts. If he keeps this up, I’m going to be completely at his mercy. I’ve never been this turned on by an innocent touch, but every chance I get, I shift to give him more access. And every time, he takes it. It’s a secret dance we’ve been doing ever since we sat down, and it’s been wearing away at my restraint with every torturous brush of his fingertips.

He gives nothing away as he casually sits next to me with his eyes trained on the people in front of me. Occasionally he takes a sip of his drink, but his hand never stops working its way up my leg, and all I can do is sit here and try to keep my breathing even. He has to be at the top of the slit, but I don’t dare move my eyes to check. The table and linens hide anything he’s doing, but my heart rate spikes when his hand moves further. He’s so dangerously close to feeling how much he’s affecting me, and when his pinky grazes my hip, he chokes on his drink before looking me up and down with wide eyes.

He’s figured out I’m not wearing anything underneath.

A series of emotions flash behind those eyes. Shock, curiosity, and a molten heat all gleam before me in a matter of seconds before he tosses the rest of his drink back in one large gulp.

Keeping his voice low, he says in my ear, “Well, I’m getting another drink since you’re trying to kill me. Would you like one?”

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