Page 22 of The Boyfriend Material Novellas

“Then tomorrow we’ll get to the bottom of it.” His smile matches mine as his gaze drifts to the ceiling.

Curiosity takes mine there too.

A sprig of mistletoe hangs above the entryway at the end of the hall.

Oh hell, is that ever an invitation.

His eyes return to mine. “Should there be mistletoe at the party?”

“Shouldn’t there always be mistletoe?” I say by way of an answer.

“The thing about mistletoe,” he says, stepping closer, and my heart flutters, “is it’s not a surprise. It gives you a heads-up: kisses may happen here.”

“Are you giving me a heads-up?” I ask breathlessly.

“Do you want one?”

“I don’t need one,” I whisper. “I think I know what happens next.”

“The only thing I want to happen.” He dips his head, lowering his mouth, and dusts the softest, most tempting kiss against my lips.

I feel like I’m floating.

Like I’m flying.

For a few delicious seconds, he dives in, kissing with intent, leaving me with the promise of how his touch might be—thorough and attentive enough to make my toes curl.

He breaks the kiss, slides his hand around my head, and pulls me in close, inhaling deeply of my hair. “You’re incredible. And that should come as no surprise.”

We make our way out, and as he puts me in a car, he tucks my hair behind my ear and says in that sexy, raspy voice, “I don’t want to keep you in suspense, so I’m just going to tell you now—I’m counting down the hours till tomorrow.”

“Me too.”

* * *

“And then he kissed me.”

I take a sip of my coffee as I finish describing last night to my sister.

Amy sprawls dramatically in her chair at Dr. Insomnia’s, swooning and fanning herself. “This is the best story ever. It’s so good I don’t even need a vanilla latte today.”

“Seriously? Youalwaysneed a vanilla latte.”

She sits bolt upright. “I know, but a kiss under the mistletoe from a guy like him? Even better than a vanilla latte.”

“Imagine if it happened to you,” I say, since I’m feeling a little sass, fueled by Vaughn’s fantastic kiss. “That would be better than cakeanda latte.”

She narrows her eyes. “You are evil for taunting me with your romantic escapades and then mocking me for my single-tude. But you were always the mean one.”

“I’m awful, I know. But it was so wonderful.” I sigh, unable to help myself. “It was the best first kiss in the history of kisses.”

“I forgive you.” My sister echoes my happy sigh, but then she frowns. “But what happens next? I thought you were abstaining from love and romance and dating thanks to Clarke’s exhibition of epic douchery. Something about how you wanted to lock that organ up in a steel cage.”

“Iamoff of dating,” I say. Yes, my heart seems to frolic and sing around Vaughn, or even at the thought of Vaughn, but I’ve got this under control. With a solid plan A, I don’t need a plan B. “But he’s moving to Miami after the new year to open the offices there for Premiere, so we have built-in barriers. It can’t turn into something more, so my heart can stay in its cage.” I shrug, a little coquettishly. “A date here, a night there. What’s the worst that could happen?”

She arches a knowing brow and stares pointedly at me. “I don’t think you want me to answer that. Why don’t you just tell me about the kiss again?”

I grin and happily tell the story one more time.

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