Page 30 of Unwrapped

I add a little winking emoji, feeling playful. It’s strange how easily I’ve fallen into this rhythm with him, teasing, flirting—it feels like a game, one I’m more than happy to play.

I finish up the baking and pack the gingerbread cookies into a small tin, wrapping it with a festive bow. It’s not much, but I know Asher will appreciate the effort. My excitement builds again as I get ready, slipping into something casual but nice—a sweater dress and some black thigh boots. It’s nothing too fancy, but it’s comfortable and feels like me. A step up from my usual jeans, plus it hugs my hips and paired with the boots, it gives me a confidence boost.

Before long, I’m out the door, the tin of cookies tucked under my arm as I make my way to Asher’s place. The snow has started to fall again, big, soft flakes that drift down slowly, coating the city in a pristine layer of white. The air is cold, but my heart feels warm, filled with the anticipation of seeing him again.

As I approach his building, my nerves return, but in the best way—the kind of fluttering excitement that comes when you’re about to step into something you’ve been waiting for. I buzz up, and almost immediately, Asher’s deep, familiar voice comes through the intercom.

“Hey, Ivy. Come on up.”

The door buzzes open, and I step inside, my pulse quickening. The elevator ride feels like it takes forever, and I take a deep breath, reminding myself to just be me.

When the doors slide open and I step out, Asher is already waiting for me. He leans casually against the doorway of his apartment, looking effortlessly handsome in a black sweater andjeans. His face breaks into a slow, warm smile the moment he sees me, and my heart stumbles over itself.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he says, his voice low and full of that teasing charm that makes my stomach do flips.

“I could say the same about you,” I reply, trying to keep my cool, though my insides are practically vibrating with excitement.

He steps forward, reaching for the tin in my hands. “Is this my surprise?”

“Maybe,” I say with a grin. “You’ll have to open it and see.”

He takes the tin from me, his fingers brushing against mine as he does, sending a warm shiver through me. His eyes linger on mine for just a moment longer than necessary before he opens the tin and inhales deeply. “Gingerbread. I love gingerbread.”

“I remember,” I say, feeling pleased with myself.

He reaches out and takes my hand, pulling me gently into the apartment. “You didn’t have to do this, you know,” he says, setting the tin down on the counter, “but I’m glad you did.”

There’s a softness in his voice that makes my heart swell, and before I can stop myself, I step closer, wrapping my arms around his waist. He doesn’t hesitate—his arms slide around me, pulling me tight against him, and for a moment, we just stand there, holding each other.

“I missed you,” I whisper against his chest, the words slipping out before I can think twice.

“I missed you too,” he replies, his lips brushing the top of my head. He pulls back slightly, his hand coming up to tilt my chin so that I’m looking up at him. His gaze is intense, but there’s something vulnerable in it, something that makes my heart beat faster. “I’ve been thinking about you… about us.”

I nod, feeling that same vulnerability rising up in me, but I don’t want to run from it. Not tonight. “Me too.”

Asher’s eyes flick down to my lips, and before I can say anything else, he leans in, capturing my mouth in a slow, deliberate kiss. It’s gentle at first, almost hesitant, but when I respond, when I press into him, it deepens. His arms tighten around me, and I feel the tension between us start to melt away, replaced by that electric connection we’ve had since the beginning.

When we finally pull back, breathless, Asher rests his forehead against mine, his fingers lightly tracing the line of my jaw. “Ivy… I don’t want this to just be a fling.”

His words hang in the air between us, heavy and full of meaning. My heart skips a beat, and I realize that I don’t want that either. This, whatever this is, feels real. It feels right.

“Neither do I,” I say softly, my voice steady, even though my heart is racing. “I’m not sure where this is going, but I want to find out.”

He smiles, that genuine, heart-melting smile that makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, I’ve found something real.

“Good,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my forehead, “because I’m not ready to let you go.”

And just like that, the excitement and nervous energy I felt earlier fades, replaced by a quiet sense of certainty. This is the start of something new, something I didn’t expect, but something I’m more than ready to dive into—cookies, nerves, and all.

The tension between us settles into something comfortable as Asher holds me close. His words—I’m not ready to let you go—echo in my mind, and I feel a flutter of hope in my chest. It feels surreal, like maybe the lines of reality and some perfect fantasy are blurring, but in the best way possible.

He releases me, but not entirely, his hand sliding down my arm until his fingers lightly hold mine. “Come on, let’s sit down,” he says softly, guiding me over to the couch. The room is litsoftly, the glow of the fireplace giving everything a cozy, intimate feel. It’s as if the rest of the world has disappeared, leaving just the two of us in this quiet, perfect bubble.

I settle onto the couch,my nerves easing the moment Asher sits next to me. He turns slightly, his knee brushing against mine, and I can feel the warmth of his presence radiating through the small space between us. It’s like a magnetic pull, drawing us closer, even when we’re already so close.

“So,” he says, leaning back, a playful smile tugging at his lips, “tell me more about this surprise. Should I be flattered that you baked for me?”

I laugh, feeling a bit more at ease now, the anxiety that had been bubbling under the surface slowly fading. “You should be very flattered,” I tease, nudging his knee with mine. “Not everyone gets special gingerbread cookies from me. Consider yourself lucky.”

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