Page 80 of My Secret Snowflake
“I can’t write your parents a note,” I say.
“Yes, you can,” Sebastian says, his voice gruff. “I’ll explain that you wanted to say good-bye and I pulled you away. My mom loves getting handwritten mail.”
He stops in front of a white door. “Here. I’ll meet you in my bedroom over there.” He points to another door. “I definitely don’t want another cross-examination from my mom.”
“You can give her a banana in a baby sling.” I open the bathroom door.
He puts his hands on either side of the door frame and leans in. “I didn’t know you had such an evil streak, Iris. That’s very tempting.”
I’m tempted to kiss him. He’s inches away.
“Only as long as your mom has a good sense of humor,” I say.
“She does.” He backs up to let the door close.
I stare in the mirror. Am I really going to his apartment? Am I ready to start another relationship? And with a work colleague? And the best friend of Rupert? And Zeke? Do I really have to call my parents and tell them I won’t be home tonight?
Iopenupthedoor to his room. The walls are painted blue, with a single bed in the corner and a desk by the window. He’s leaning against his desk, outlined by soft lamp light.
I step in and close the door. The click sounds loud in the silence. He watches me.
“What secrets will this reveal about you?” I ask.
“Are we about to reveal secrets?” He grins and takes a step closer.
I back up.
Am I ready?
I pick up a trophy that stands on a bookcase. “Squash. And you read books.” I pick up another trophy. “Debate.”
“Makes sense, for a lawyer.” He stands there, watching me.
I think he can tell I’m nervous. But it’s also excitement. I can’t believe this man might be mine. And the fact that he’s waiting—that he’s letting me call the shots…
I swallow and take a step forward.
I put my hand on his chest. His heart is beating fast. My heart skitters.
He reaches up and caresses my face as he whispers, “May I?”
I swallow and nod.
He smooths a tendril of hair behind my ear, his fingers fanning out and then caressing the skin behind my ear and down my neck. My skin feels heated where his fingers skim. I can’t take my eyes off him. I don’t dare breathe.
“I’ve wanted to do that all night,” he says. “You’re so beautiful.”
He rests his hand on my shoulder and traces my collarbone. I tilt my neck, and he slides his hand back under my hair. He steps closer, backing me up against the wall.
“Can I kiss you?” he asks. “I wanted to wait, but I don’t think I can.” Outside, the muted sound of good-byes dims as party revelers leave.
“Yes,” I say, and I reach up to pull his head down. His lips are firm. He pulls me against him. His hair is soft. His other hand cups my face. Our lips slant as we explore each other. He tastes of red wine. Shivers are cascading through me as he holds me tightly. His fingers skate over the heated skin of my bare back, teasing. He growls, and I feel that guttural sound deep in my stomach. He presses little kisses down my neck, down to my collarbone. He looks up, and I think he trembles, need and desire etched into his face.
“I’m so into you,” he says. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. He closes his eyes and then opens them. He groans. “I really was very happy being single.”
I hold his face in my hands. “Let’s be happy being together.”
“Let’s,” he says. He sweeps me up and carries me over to the bed, stopping to lock the door on the way over.
