Page 37 of Touchdowns and Tinsel

“Three… two…”

The remaining seconds slip away like sand through my fingers, and my breath catches in my throat. I refuse to look back over at Cole, feel that familiar pull that sends a chill down my spine. What would it mean to start again? Would I even have a chance at finding something like I had with his father?

“ONE!”

Cheers erupt around me, glasses clink, and suddenly, the air is filled with shouts of “Happy New Year!” Hugs and kisses exchanged with abandon. I let my eyes flutter shut for just a moment, willing myself to soak in the chaos that surrounds me.

It’s then that I feel a gentle grip on my shoulder. Turning my gaze, I’m met with Cole’s bright eyes piercing into mine, brimming with an intensity that leaves me breathless.

“Happy New Year, Noelle!” he exclaims, and with that, he leans in, wrapping his arms around me in a hug. The scent of his cologne engulfs me, reminiscent of old feelings that threaten to push back through the icy walls I’ve built around my heart.

“Happy New Year, Cole,” I mumble into his shoulder, unsure of whether I should pull away or lean in tighter.

It's confusing, the way my body reacts to his touch, and an uneasy awareness washes over me. But it's all so familiar—a clue to a puzzle I've been trying to figure out for some time now. Is it crazy to think that Cole had something to do with my Christmasfantasy? Yes, Noelle, it's fucking crazy. It wasn't him. The little voice in the back of my head tries to tell me, making me even more confused.

Just then, the sound of fireworks explodes overhead, each burst illuminating the night sky with vibrant colors—a stark contrast to the emotional turmoil stirring within me. I see the faces around the fire lit up, joyous and carefree. Around us, the night is alive, yet here I am, drifting between two worlds, feeling every shot of exhilaration and tension in equal measure.

“Are you ready to leave behind everything that held you back?” Cole whispers, his breath warm against my ear, igniting a spark of uncertainty deeper within me.

Before I can respond, the intoxicating sound of Q’s voice suddenly echoes in my head—a haunting memory of our heated exchange, the electric connection we forged just hours before. His words, "You're fucking mine," reverberate within the chambers of my heart.

And as the fireworks burst one more time above our heads—a spectacular finale to signal the beginning of another year—the question hangs unanswered between us, prompting me to wonder how I might navigate this uncharted territory filled with unspoken desires, complicated loyalties, and the earnest pursuit of a fresh start among the ruins that still linger.

I guess I'll never know who was behind the kidnapping, and that's okay. At least I'll always have the memories of it and the free feeling I got from those twenty-four hours. In the end, that's all that matters, right?

The End

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