Page 16 of Under the Mistletoe

“Bentley doesn’t see it that way. He’s afraid my father will end their friendship. I told him I’d talk to them when the time was right, but he wouldn’t hear it. He was fine with it at first.”

“That is probably because he wants to tell him. He wants to take the heat instead of you. Delaying telling them the truth will only lead to you getting into hot water with them because you didn’t mention it. Seriously though, you need to figure this out. You need to do what makes you happy, and if that is being with Bentley, then go and get him, but also allow him to sit down with you and your parents and talk to them. Now let’s get the rest of our shopping done, and no more sad face!” she said with a smile and a look of understanding as she reached over and gave me a hug.

It was a little past nine. Kelsey and I finished shopping, and she returned home with me, helped me wrap up a few gifts, and then we sat down and had dinner with my parents. She left about an hour ago, and since she’d been gone, I’d been lying in bed, watching TV, trying to come up with a plan on how to get Bentley to realize that we were good together, and so far I’d come up with nothing.

Kelsey was right. I was an adult, and it was time that my parents allowed me to live my life.

I slipped off the bed and went over to my closet, pulling out my favorite sweater and black skirt, and quickly got dressed. I put my hair up in a ponytail and grabbed my car keys off mydesk. I didn’t need a reason to convince him; I knew how he felt about me, and that alone should be enough.

I made my way downstairs to where my parents sat in the living room watching their usual Saturday night show.

“Where are you off to?” my father questioned. “You were out with Kelsey all day.”

“Heading over to Macy’s house, why?” I answered, feeling a little on edge that I was being questioned.

“Darling, your father only cares,” my mother answered, giving me her normal look whenever I questioned my father.

“I know. I’ll see you later. I’ll be home late, so don’t wait up.”

I grabbed my jacket from the closet and shot out the front door before they could ask me anything else. Twenty minutes later, I pulled into the parking lot behind Bentley’s bar and cut the engine.

The snow was falling softly, and I made my way around to the front of the bar. The lights flashed in the main window, casting a beautiful glow over the freshly fallen snow. I stopped at the window and looked inside.

Bentley sat at the empty bar. He held a glass in his hand and took a drink. He looked upset, almost lost, which made my heart ache. Was I the reason?

After watching him for a few minutes I made my way to the main door. Tonight, he closed up early, and I glanced down at my watch to see it was exactly two minutes until he locked the doors for the night.

Pulling the heavy wooden door open, I stepped inside the bar. The sound of Christmas carols floated through the air, and I softly smiled at the sight of him, only he didn’t look at me. He didn’t even turn around.

“Sorry, pal, bar’s closed for the night,” he barked.

Only I didn’t pay any attention. I quietly flicked the lock on the door and then made my way over to him. Once I was closeenough, I reached out and placed my hands on his biceps before leaning up against the bar, studying his face.

He lifted his eyes to mine. “Noelle, what are you doing here?”

I studied his eyes. They were hungry. I could see it the moment he looked at me. It was the same look he’d given me every time we’d been together, only tonight it was more intense than ever. It had been barely a week since he’d ended things with me, but it felt like it had been forever.

“I’m here because I’m not giving up on us. I’ve been miserable this past week, because I only want you,” I whispered.

“Noelle, you don’t know what you are doing,” he muttered as he drank down the last drops of what I figured were whiskey or bourbon in his glass.

“I know what I want, and I don’t give a shit what others think of us or our relationship. If it’s my dad that worries you most, then we will talk with him together,” I said, running my fingers over the stubble on his cheek.

He closed his eyes as I continued to play with the stubble on his cheek. Then he took my hand in his and removed it from his cheek and looked at me.

“Noelle, you should be with someone your own age, darling. I’m not equipped to deal with watching guys flirt with you or trying to put their hands on what doesn’t belong to them.”

I put my hand back on his cheek and leaned into him, pressing my lips against his. I wanted to get lost in his kiss again, to feel what it was like to be held in his arms and worshiped by him.

“You are the only man I want flirting with me and touching me. You are free to let everyone know it, let them know I belong to you and only to you,” I whispered, kissing him again.

I met his eyes, then I reached over and grabbed the bottle he’d been pouring from, picked it up, and tipped my head back, allowing the booze to flow into my mouth. I swallowed thegolden liquid, warming and burning the entire way down my throat. Then I licked my lips, knowing that the taste of whiskey would still be on them. I placed the bottle back down on the bar, squeezed my way between Bentley and the bar, and looked at him.

In one quick movement, his lips crashed into mine. I felt my body go numb as his hand fisted into my hair, gently tugging, as he pulled me in close, devouring my mouth hard.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he murmured, his tongue washing through my mouth.

He grabbed hold of me and lifted me up onto the edge of the bar, where he looked up at me as his hands ran down the sides of my legs.

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