Page 27 of All in December
“It just gets a little lonely sometimes,” he admits. “I’ve had a lot of good holidays with Sam, of course, and I love him to pieces. But sometimes I wish I had someone. I feel guilty for saying that because it should be enough, but I can’t help but want to wake up with a house full of good chaos. It feels like he deserves more, too, than waking up, opening his gifts in ten minutes flat, then sitting there alone while I cook for just us. Everyone else seems to be surrounded by love and family, and I just sometimes wish we had more of that.”
The weight of his words hit me. I reach across the table to take his hand in mine. I want to tell him we should have our own Christmas together, but I don’t want to make any promises I’m not one hundred percent sure I can keep.
“That sounds hard,” I say instead. “Even if it’s good in its own way. The years that the kids are with their mom, I feel the weight of that loneliness too.”
Caleb lets out a breath, eyes on the table. “Yeah. I always feel bad because we have everything we need, and still, I can’t help but want more.”
“Maybe this year will be different,” I say, hoping that I can figure out a way to make his Christmas better. “And you’re not selfish for wanting more. We’re human, and wecrave connection. You should never feel guilty or bad for that.”
“Thanks, Nash.” He gives me a small smile as I squeeze his hand.
After we finish and pay, I walk him to his car, hands shoved deep in my coat pockets as the cold winter air bites at our exposed skin. I want to kiss him, plan to kiss him, as long as he’s okay with it. He told me he’s never been with a man before, and the last thing I want is to make him uncomfortable.
When we get to his car, neither of us reach for the handle. We just stand there, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off each other in the crisp December air.
Caleb turns to me, eyes lifting, then dropping briefly to my mouth, and the tension between us is palpable.
“I keep thinking about you kissing me,” he murmurs, and that kicks my heart rate up.
I feel like I’m sixteen again about to have my first kiss. Except I’m not sixteen, and this isn’t just some silly crush.
“I still want to. Will you let me? Out here in the open?”
He swallows, taking a moment to steady himself, then nods his head just slightly. “Okay.”
I step forward, cupping his jaw with my hand, thumb brushing lightly against his cheek. His skin is cold from the air, just like my hand. He tilts his face toward me, breath visible in the winter air.
“I’ve wanted to do this all day,” I murmur.
He licks his lips as his eyes drop to my mouth, and I lean in slowly, giving him another second to back away. But he doesn’t, and when our lips finally meet, it’s like a silent explosion between us.
The kiss starts slow, but when I feel the sharp exhale helets out against my mouth, I deepen it, letting my tongue tangle with his. The peppermint from the mint he just had after lunch is thick on his breath. Caleb’s a bit more reserved, but he isn’t pulling away, and I think I know what he wants. I tilt his head back, fully taking the lead, and his whole body relaxes and coils tighter at the same time. The air between us shifts from tentative to electric the more I guide him. His body presses into mine, and I feel the heat of him through the layers. I groan into his mouth and he swallows the sound.
It’s hot to the point I barely remember we’re standing in the bitter cold, and then I remember other people exist.
It takes every ounce of strength I have to break apart from him, but we are in public, and I don’t want anyone to say anything that might make him want to hide away. He’s panting, and I lean my forehead against his, still craving that connection.
“Holy shit,” he whispers, feeling his warm breath against my cheek.
I smile, pulling back just enough to look at him. “Worth the wait?”
His eyes are darker now, cheeks flushed from more than the cold. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah, it was.”
“Good,” I murmur, brushing my knuckles down the side of his jaw. “I can’t wait till next time.”
His mouth twitches, that perfect blend of nerves and need. “Next time,” he echoes.
“I’ll text you when I get home,” I tell him, leaning in for another quick kiss before reluctantly letting him go. He climbs into his car with a dazed sort of grin on his face as I stand here and watch him drive away, already craving the next time I get to kiss him again.
CHAPTER 13
Caleb
The first kiss I’ve ever had with a man is also the best kiss I’ve ever had, and I don’t know what that means.
No, that’s a lie.
I do know what it means.
