Page 38 of The Crush of Christmas Past
This tranquil space has always been my refuge. After the loss of my parents, I spent hours here, hiding as the world collapsed around me. Crying. Wishing. Bargaining. Surrendering to darkness and despair.
We get to the food stall just in time to hear the vendor announce, “Last call!”
Theo steps up and orders two Snowy S’mores, his hand wrapping around mine when I reach for my wallet.
“I’m still your teammate for the night. Wouldn’t be right if I let you pay for your prize.”
“What’s going on?” I eye him carefully.
The easygoing attitude, the playfulness, the kiss proposal…
“What happened to years of stony silence?”
He doesn’t respond, just turns and heads toward the bridge.
Yes,thatbridge. The one with initials carved into its railing like a shrine to countless love stories.
With the sky starting to darken and the food no longer being served, the place has cleared out. We’re the only two people on the old, wooden structure.
A stillness—neither comfortable nor unpleasant—settles around us as we stand side by side, transfixed by the sun’s diminishing amber rays glinting off the water below.
To distract from the tension, I take a bite of my s’more. A low moan escapes my throat as the blend of warm chocolate, gooey marshmallow, and buttery graham cracker melts on my tongue. The peppermint coating hits next, a refreshing burst of cool flavor that balances the richness.
“These are life changing.” I sigh. “Totally worth forfeiting the trophy for a taste.”
When I glance back at Theo, expecting his usual scowl, I’m met with something far sharper. His gaze is fixed on my mouth, tracking its movement as I chew. The intense, possessive weight of it sends a shiver down my spine.
“You’ve got a little…” He gestures toward my lips.
I swipe at an arbitrary spot. “Did I get it?”
“No.” He lifts his hand. “Want me to…?”
I nod and he leans in, slowly brushing my bottom lip. The interaction stretches long enough to cross into undeniably intimate territory.
By the time he pulls away, he’s set fire to my skin. I’m burning all over. My pulse drums against the spot where he touched, demanding an encore.
Without breaking eye contact, Theo slides his thumb into his mouth, and my world narrows to that single provocative action—the flick of his tongue, the low growl in his chest, the way he takes his time like he’s savoring a forbidden taste.
“Definitely life changing.” His voice is rougher now, all grit and gravel.
“I’m starting to question if you even hate sugar,” I whisper.
His lips twitch. “Maybe the source makes a difference.”
Two times today, his fingers have found my mouth. I’m tempted to see where else a smear of chocolate might lead him.
I take a bite of my s’more, hoping the taste will be distraction enough to drown out that wild craving.
Nope. It only fuels my appetite.
“At least you can count yourself safe from confessions on Starlight Summit this year!” I blurt. “Isn’t that a relief?”
Theo scans the horizon as tension carves hard lines into his face. “You werenineteen, Isla.”
I blink, his statement landing like a slap, dragging me back to that mortifying Christmas Eve six years ago. “You make it sound like I was a child.”
Back when I was anactualkid, Theo wasn’t even on my crush radar. By the time I was a pre-teen, starting to see boys as interesting—albeit stinky—creatures, he was long gone from under the Thornes’ roof. Despite being around Asher my whole life, Theo and I hadn’t connected until after my parents’ passing.
