Page 35 of Oh No, My Best Friend Hates Christmas!

Baz’s footsteps pound behind me, following my path up the stairs.

“I’m serious!” I cry out. “One second!”

I make it to the bathroom door just as he crests the stairs. I squeal and slam it shut, twisting the lock right as he reaches it.The door shakes as he slams into it.

“Heidi!” he calls through the door. “You have thirty seconds! Then I’m coming in.”

The lock jiggles, and I figure that Baz’s thirty seconds is not the same as my thirty seconds.

I move quickly, setting Frank in the bathtub where she can’t cause any trouble, and turn to the sink.

I barely have time to douse my face in cold water before I’m being grabbed from behind and spun.

Lips are on mine – one hundred percent! – and I’m backed up against the sink. Baz’s large body presses over me – into me.

My eyes fall shut. His hands find their way into my hair while mine land on his strong, broad shoulders, then wind around his neck.

His lips are firm against mine, then soft. Pressing in, pulling back. Chasing and retreating. Over and over and over again until I can’t breathe or think or–

He pulls back, and I groan, following him, begging for his lips to come back to mine.

“Breathe, baby,” he rumbles, accent thick.

I groan again. I don’t want to breathe. I want to kiss.

He chuckles, then pecks my nose. I tilt my head up.

Not there, silly boy,here.

He does not oblige.

“Breathe,” he repeats. I try to open my eyes to glare at him but find that my eyelids don’t quite agree with that course of action. They refuse to do more than lazily sprawl over my eyeballs, giving me naught but slits to see through.

I suppose, in the absence of a good glare, I could try doing what Bazzy says. Maybe if I obey, he will give me a treat.

More kisses in mind, I inhale. Exhale. Do it again.

See me, Baz? I am breathing. I deserve much goodness, yes?

Through my lower lids, I watch him take his own breaths, hotchocolate eyes locked on my lips. I smile.

Yes, yes. Look at my lips. Don’t you want to kiss them?

I lean forward, and my heart races when he does too. His arms encircle me, closing the space he’d created between us. Our faces inch closer. My air becomes his air, my breaths his breaths. His lips ghost against mine, and then–

“Meow!”

I jerk back, my head whipping to check on Frank. That wasnota good meow.

I find her tangled in the shower curtain, her tiny mustached face peeking out from a cut she appears to have fashioned for herself in the fabric.

“Frank!” I exclaim, untangling myself from Baz. “Oh, you poor thing! Here, Mommy will help you!”

We spend several minutes working her free. It takes Baz retrieving a knife and cutting through the curtain to finally liberate her completely, but soon enough, she is safely cocooned in my arms.

“I’ve got you,” I coo. “You’re safe now, sweet babe. Nothing will hurt you.”

Baz’s finger reaches in to give her a head scratch. She closes her eyes, purring at the touch. I understand the urge; I, too, could purr at Baz’s touch.

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