Page 69 of Fa-La La-La Land
“You know I’m very experienced in snowball fights, right? You sure you want to go there?” I look at him while also mentally scanning the potential battlefield in front of me.
Rhys answers by letting his grin grow wider before crouching down to scoop up more snow.
I dive behind the closest inflatable to me—a six-footsnowman—and quickly pack three snowballs. I poke my head around Frosty’s bottom half long enough to catch Rhys doing the same. I fire and hit him in the face.
He pauses long enough to wipe snow from his eyes, then darts after me. I toss my other two snowballs at him, missing both times before zig-zagging around inflatables, trying to lose him. I stop long enough behind Joseph to pack some fresh ammunition.
I stand and peek around Joseph, but Rhys is nowhere to be seen. Then I hear his footsteps and whip around to find him jogging toward me. I fire two rounds, hitting him both times, before he ducks down low enough to grab me around the waist and throw me over his shoulder.
He walks toward the house while I pound my gloved fists against his parka-padded back with little effect.
“You’re carrying me inside? Does this mean you give up?”
“That’s right. You’ve got me beat, Stella,” he says dryly. “Don’t…Stop…Don’t.”
I pause. “Are you telling me to stop or not to stop?”
Rhys kicks open the front door and sets me down inside, hovering over me. Lab gone, caged animal back, except this one is inviting me to free him. “You decide.”
I shiver again, but this one is heat-induced. Rhys’s eyes flash with a challenge. I answer by pushing the door shut before winding my arms around his neck and finding his lips with mine.
He returns my kiss, then deepens it while walking me out of the entryway toward the living room sofa. Between our kisses, we fumble out of our coats, hats, and gloves, leaving a trail of discarded winter wear behind us.
I lower to the couch, bringing Rhys with me.
“Is this how your snowball fights always end?” he asks, hovering overme.
I laugh and shake my head. “Considering most of them were with my brother and my cousins? No. They never ended like this.”
“Well, then, it’s a first for both of us,” he says before kissing me again, softer but with the carefulness of an explorer sure he’s about to find what he’s been searching for.
My pulse picks up speed, both nervous and excited. Gently, I place my hand on his chest. His heart races against my palm as I press him away. “Rhys, if we keep going…” My breath staggers. “It’d be a first for me in a lot of ways.”
He nods, then his eyes fly open. “Does that mean what I think it means?”
I nod.
He blinks a few times. “I don’t remember seeing ‘losing your virginity’ on your 30 Before 30 List.”
I shake my head. “I sort of lumped it in with number one: Don’t fall in love. I figure once I’m ready to fall in love, the other will go with it.”
Rhys pushes himself up and scoots to the opposite end of the couch. “And not falling in love’s still top of your list? No compromising there?” He glances at me, then hurriedly adds, “And that’s the only thing I’m talking about. Not gonna pressure you to do anything you’re not ready for, especially when it comes to sex.”
I sit up and tuck my feet under me, facing him. “I don’t know, Rhys. I haven’t decided yet. I know this thing we have—whatever it is—has made me reconsider falling in love. Obviously, I like you a lot.”
“Righto.” He scrapes a hand through his hair and scowls at the floor. “Best to put the brakes on until you know what you want. I don’t have any rules about not falling in love. Dunno if I can wait for you to decide without getting my heart broken.”
“That’s not my intent, Rhys. I just…” He hazards a glance at me. “I don’t know what to say.”
I swallow hard, fighting the urge to tell him how stupid my self-imposed rules seem now. Battling those words, though, makes it impossible to say anything else. A tense silence falls over us.
He stands, keeping his eyes down. “Reckon I’d better get ready for the show tonight. Mind if I hit the shower?”
I paste on a smile like he hasn’t said he’s afraid I’ll break his heart. “No, go ahead. You want me to make some hot chocolate?”
He puts on his own smile, and I wonder if mine looks as sad. “Sure. That’d be great.”
Rhys goes upstairs while I tread into the kitchen, replaying everything that’s passed between us in the last twenty minutes. The thing I fantasized about as a kid is happening. Rhys James is falling in love withme. I should be overjoyed. This is fantasy colliding with reality in the very best way.
