Page 7 of Mr. Mistletoe
I wish the floor would open up and swallow me whole. A thousand eyes are on me, and the weight tethers me to the spot.
And then, the stranger prods me with his elbow.
“What do you say?” he asks in that low, rumbly voice. “Should we give them what they want?”
My pulse stutters.
He’s watching me, his eyes bright and steady. His nearness pulls me in like gravity.
I should laugh it off. Shrug. Hide my face until the camera moves on.
But I don’t.
Instead, I want to do this. I tip toward him an inch—then stop. My breath catches.
I shouldn’t. I’m with Kyle.
I risk a glance at him, and the blue glow from his phone shines on his face. He doesn’t see me.
The crowd’s chant grows louder. His sister is clapping along, egging us on.
My gaze drops to his mouth.
He lifts his hand slowly, giving me every chance to pull back. When his palm cups my cheek, I feel the calluses of his fingers, rough against my skin. My entire body lights up.
The moment stretches taut. Too long. Not long enough.
I lean forward, just a little, my heart galloping, my lips parting on a shaky exhale.
And then he closes the distance.
Our lips meet, tentative at first, then lingering, as if both of us are afraid to shatter the moment. The pressure deepens, his mouth coaxing mine open, his beard brushing my skin in a way that makes my toes curl in my high heels.
The scratch of the short bristles feels just like I imagined—electrifying.
The arena erupts, but I barely hear it. There’s only the thrill of kissing him racing through me, pulling me under, making me forget anyone else exists.
Until a furious voice cuts through the haze.
“Jess! What the hell?”
Kyle has finally looked up from his phone.
Chapter Four
Clark
I havea name to fit the face now. Jess.
And suddenly, I want to know more. Everything.
I catch the edge of her argument with her sorry excuse for a date. The crowd roars around us, the squeak of sneakers against the court floor echoing in the distance, but even if the sound cut out, I’d still feel the tension radiating from her body. Whatever they’re saying, it’s not good.
How could it be when she just kissed another man?
Me.
And I don’t regret it. Not for a second. If anything, I want to do it again. As soon as possible.
