Page 113 of The Crush of Christmas Past
“I can’t wait until morning. If I do, I’ll talk myself out of it. Again. And I can’t. Iwon’t.”
I shut my eyes. If I don’t say it now, I never will.
“Do you know what it’s like to lose everything? To wake up and realize you have no one left? No backup plan? No safety net?” My voice catches. “When my parents died, that was me. My only worldly possessions? Two urns of ashes. I spent years thinking I was a burden on others. Too sad. Too needy. Too much.”
I’m shaking now, but I can’t stop. “I convinced myself I didn’t deserve happiness. That wanting more would only lead to losing more. So, I stopped asking—for love, for safety, even a future. Well…except that one time I asked for Theo. When I was nineteen and still naive enough to allow my heart to break. He said no, and I took that answer and turned it into a rule to live by.”
“Oh, Isla.”
“I’m done living in fear of pain. Because I want him, Ash. Not need—want. Pure, selfish, burning want.”
“That sounds—”
“Scary. If I let myself have this only to lose it, I don’t know how I’ll survive that kind of grief again. But I’m even more afraid of not trying. Of giving up and losing on themaybe.”
As I pause to wipe away a rogue tear, there’s a soft crunch of snow behind me.
Asher’s gaze shifts. “Thank fuck.”
“Deer or fairy?” I whisper.
“A fairy that’s about to save me from having to offer you a ride,” he says. “I really want to see the fireworks. The ones the town is putting on. Not whatever you two are about to create. I respectfully bow out of that soft-core reunion scene. Happy New Year, Ginger Snap.” He winks, then hangs up before I can reply.
“Hey! I thought we were done with the stupid nicknames!” I yell at the screen. “Also—what the hell? I still need your car!”
A gust of wind rushes through the trees, lifting the hem of my coat and scattering my breath.
I shove my phone into my pocket, still reeling.
And then I hear the sound again.
Closer this time, matching the rhythm of familiar, steady footsteps.
I know it’s him before I even finish turning around.
Theo emerges from the fog like some ethereal apparition. Or maybe a perfume ad model.
He’s wearing a long charcoal coat, its collar flipped up against the wind. Underneath it is a slightly rumpled—though fashionably tailored—dark suit. The top buttons of his black dress shirt are undone. He appears to have started the night as a CEO and is ending it as a man on a mission.
“What are you doing here?” I ask when he stops in front of me.
“I came to give a speech.” A small smile touches his lips. “The big, sweeping, cinematic kind that transcends time and space. Complete with metaphors, memories, and a grand final line that ties everything together with a callback to fate.”
“And what does that final, fateful line say?”
He lets out a rough laugh. “That’s the thing—I havenofucking clue.”
“You came out here serving Theo Darcy, but didn’t think to consultPride and Prejudice?” I tease. If I don’t lighten the mood, I might cry.
“Oh, I curated an entire presentation full of inspiration. Classicandcontemporary speeches from novels, plays, movies, and campaigns. Any and all remotely romantic lines. Even dug through my old swipe file. But none of it felt like us.”
He holds out his hands in front of him, palms up. “I’m here without a pitch, Sunshine. For the first time in my life, I don’t have a plan. The only thing I’m certain of is that I can’t stand being without you.”
Leaning down, he presses his forehead to mine, one palm cupping my face, the other gently curling around my neck. “I want you, Isla. Even if we have to build our relationship one day at a time. Even if it takes us forever to figure it out.” His thumb strokes along my jawline as his gaze brands me. “I’ll gladly take any and every version of the future—as long as you’re in it.”
He’s giving me aHow am I doing?look, and my entire body seizes up.
“You know, this could’ve been a text. You didn’t have to drive four hours in a blizz—”
