Page 11 of Touchdowns and Tinsel

Trying to change the subject and ease the tension surrounding us, I offer a topic I know he loves to talk about.

"So, is there a game tonight since its Christmas Eve?" Grabbing the pot half-full of coffee, I pour a full mug, adding cream and sugar all while keeping my back toward him.

"Yeah, Noelle, there's always a Christmas Eve game," he snaps at me again. "And yeah, I saved your ass a fucking seat."

Twisting the cap onto my mug, I take a sip before turning around to face him, trying to think of a way to break it to him gently that I'm just not in the mood to go tonight. He stands up, grinning deviously, which gets my heart beating faster. Slowly, he walks over to me, his cup in his hand, and doesn't stop until he's right in my face, our noses almost touching.

"Dressed to head out, I see," he remarks, giving me a look that doesn't sit right with me.

"Yes, Cole. I have a few things to grab at the office." I swallow hard, knowing that he can probably hear the thumping of my racing heart.

He reaches out, his hand grazing my hip, and I shiver, frozen in fear, so that I can't walk away. He drags his fingers down the front of my jeans, tracing over my zipper. Something dark flickers in his eyes as the corners of his lips tug upward into another evil grin. He leans in closer, his mouth beside my ear, his breath skating like fire against my skin.

"Tell me that you'll be at my game, Noelle," he whispers, his fingers still running up and down my zipper, making me fully aware that I'm not wearing underwear.

The sensation, although highly inappropriate, feels so fucking good that I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from moaning.

And his ass knows it too.

"I'll try, Cole. I have a busy day ahead," I whisper in a breathy moan, trying my hardest to stay composed.

He laughs evilly, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth while running his hand up the front of my body, not stopping until his fingers dance across my collarbone, giving me the chills.

"You'll be there, Noelle—trust me," he snickers as he backs up and finally walks away, leaving me alone in the kitchen with soaked jeans and a dry mouth.

Trying to shake off another awkward encounter, I take another sip of my coffee, debating if I should go up and change or just leave.

Fuck it. I need to get out of here.

The cold air hits my face as I step outside, the crunch of snow beneath my boots grounding me amid the swirling chaos in my mind. The world is blanketed in white, a serene contrast to the storm of emotions brewing inside me. I inhale deeply, breathing in the crispness of the winter day, but even the fresh air fails to fulfill me.

I run through my plans for the day in my head—need to stop by the office to tie up some loose ends, swing by the grocery store for the holiday feast, and then find a way to avoid Cole's game without setting off any more of his predatory instincts. The tension between us is like a worn string, ready to snap at any moment, and I don’t know if I should be more afraid of thephysical confrontation or the fact that I’m undeniably drawn to him.

As I navigate the snow-covered streets of my neighborhood, my mind drifts back to the conversations we’ve had and the way his presence both excites and terrifies me. I can still feel his fingers ghosting over my body, the unwanted heat simmering beneath my skin. My thoughts spiral into that dark space again—my fantasies of danger twisted with the reality of how close I am to someone who feels like both a protector and a threat.

Rounding the corner, I see the office building looming in the distance, its glass façade shimmering under the softly diffused light of the overcast sky. As I approach the entrance, I catch a glimpse of someone familiar through the windows. It's Riley, my colleague and friend, busy at her desk. A wave of relief washes over me, and for a brief moment, I feel anchored.

“Hey, you!” she calls out as I step inside. “I didn’t expect to see you here. I thought everyone would be off for the holidays.”

I force a smile, eager to immerse myself in normalcy, to pretend that everything is okay, even for just a moment. “Just finishing up some last-minute stuff. You know how it is.”

She raises an eyebrow but surprisingly avoids probing further. “Want some coffee? I just brewed a pot.”

“Yeah, sure,” I reply, grateful for the distraction.

As she pours two mugs, I take a moment to collect my thoughts, reminded that outside this sanctuary lies Cole—his shadow looming larger with each second ticking down to game time.

We chat about mundane office matters, the usual office gossip, and the holiday plans of our colleagues. I let out soft laughs, engaging in the banter, thankful that Riley’s easygoing nature seems to keep my anxieties at bay. However, as much as I try to hold on to this feeling, the clock on the wall catches my eye, and my stomach sinks as I realize how much time has passed.

“I, uh, really have to get going,” I stammer, guilt creeping in for abandoning our conversation.

“Already?” Riley asks, concern flickering in her eyes. “Are you sure you shouldn’t just rest for a bit? You’ve been through a lot lately.”

I hesitate, biting my lip as her words echo in my mind. “I’m fine, really!” I force a laugh. “Just have a few things to get done before the game.”

She studies me for a moment longer before nodding, still clearly unconvinced but dropping it. “Alright, just don’t hesitate to reach out if you need to talk, okay?”

“Yes, of course. Thanks, Riley.”

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