Page 55 of Hope and Hot Chocolate on Mistletoe Lane

‘Please come home with me.’

That simple sentence Paul uttered after our kiss had been too tempting to say no to. Especially now the winter wonderland was open and I would soon be leaving him. Even if I stayed for the tree-lighting ceremony, I would still be going back to the city this week. We only had a few days left together. Saying yes to him felt like something I had to do.

But first, we had to get off the ice, which was made easy by Paul gliding us across to the exit and then lifting me onto safe ground. Skating had been more fun than I thought it would be but that’s because I had Paul to hold me and guide me. I wondered why I’d been so reticent growing up to join him skating and when I wobbled and almost fell and he caught me in my arms, the answer was clear. Because I would have enjoyed him holding me too much. When we were young, I would have surely given my crush away on the ice and I’d wanted to keep it hidden.

But now that ship had finally sailed.

I regretted how much I had kept to myself ten years ago, and how we’d both been too cautious to be anything more than best friends. But maybe the time hadn’t been right back then. Maybe we’d had to part to become the people we were now. I just wished I knew if those people were meant to be together now or not. I had confessed to hoping he hadn’t got someone special in his life last New Year’s Eve. But I hadn’t confessed that my leaving ten years ago was partly because the thought of him being my soul mate had been too real and too scary. I couldn’t tell him that because it was still terrifying. And I kept telling myself it wasn’t true. But then our lips met and I started to believe it all over again.

‘Let’s put the fire on,’ Paul suggested softly when we walked into his apartment. I had closed up Mistletoe Lane and we’d covered the ice rink together and turned off all the lights, leaving Birch Tree Farm in quiet darkness. We’d made the journey back to the café in silence. It felt like we were both absorbing what we’d admitted to one another on the ice and we wanted to be alone at Paul’s place to talk again. The evening had turned cold so the suggestion was a very welcome one. We shed our coats and hats and boots until we were both just in jumpers and jeans.

‘How about some wine?’ he suggested. That was something I could also get on board with.

I went to the kitchen and found glasses and a bottle of red wine as Paul lit the log fire in the living-room area. He turned on one lamp and the room instantly felt warm. ‘You’ve made such a cosy space,’ I commented as I carried over the glasses to join him on the sofa, the fire starting to crackle in front of us. I thought back to some dates I’d been on and to exes whose places had been cold and uncomfortable, and I’d felt awkward being there but my body relaxed now on Paul’s sofa, as if it was made to fit me.

‘You like it?’ he asked, taking the glass I offered him.

‘I really do,’ I replied, thinking that he’d made it feel homelier here than I’d managed in my city apartment. I realised with a jolt that I hadn’t really missed my place at all. I missed Georgia but not my home.

‘Good. Here’s to old friends,’ Paul said, clinking my glass with his. He kept his eyes on me as we both took a sip of the rich wine, the fire burning merrily. Paul’s face was lit by the glow. He just looked warm to me. ‘Moments like these, I can almost hear you thinking,’ he said with a chuckle.

I ducked my head. ‘Sorry. I am in my head way too much; I always have been.’

Paul put a hand on my leg and rubbed the fabric of my jeans soothingly. ‘You don’t need to apologise. I just wish I could take some of your worries away.’

‘I’m not worried now,’ I said, meeting his gaze again. I sipped the wine, enjoying the warmth that was trickling through my body from it, the fire, and Paul’s presence. It had been cold outside on the ice.

‘Really?’ He looked sceptical at that.

‘Well, of course, I have worries about us,’ I said, wondering if using the word ‘us’ was too presumptuous. ‘But you’ve always been a calming presence. The world out there isn’t calm but in here, all that feels very far away.’

‘I want you to feel safe here with me,’ Paul said softly.

Part of me did but there was an edge of fear that had nothing to do with Paul but everything to do with the way he was making me feel.

‘It’s okay,’ he said when I couldn’t answer. ‘I know some of what you’re thinking. I’m thinking it too. But why don’t we act like our teenage selves tonight, huh? Just have fun being together without thinking about what it all means or what happens next or anything… adult,’ he said as he searched for the right word.

I giggled. ‘Being an adult isn’t as fun as I thought it was going to be.’

‘True – all you want when you’re a teenager is to grow up so you can do what you want, but then you realise life isn’t like that at all.’

I resisted the urge to tell him that all I’d wanted as a teenager was him. ‘Okay then, we shut out the adult world for the night. But does that mean we can’t do things we didn’t do when we were teenagers?’ I arched an eyebrow in what I hoped was a sexy way.

His returning laugh was husky so I think it worked. ‘I bloody hope not.’ He put his wine down and lifted mine from my hands. ‘I have to kiss you now,’ he said when I tutted at him taking my wine. ‘Is that okay?’

‘I suppose I’ll allow it,’ I joked although my smile faded when he touched my chin, tilting it up and showing me how dark his eyes were. My breath hitched as he looked at my lips then back at my eyes, leaning in slowly. It should have felt strange to be kissing my old friend but everything about it felt so natural. It made me wonder how we’d resisted for so bloody long.

On the ice rink, he’d kissed me urgently, like he couldn’t wait a second longer, and our kiss under the mistletoe had been fraught with tension but now, he was savouring the moment.

And I wanted to savour it too.

Paul dropped soft kisses down my neck, behind my ear, and on my collarbone, giving me goosebumps. He paused and leaned in towards my ear. He nibbled on my earlobe, making me shiver a little bit. ‘I want you naked on my floor,’ he whispered then. ‘Please, Hols.’

‘Yes,’ I whispered back, just as keen to be naked with him.

Paul got up and held out a hand, pulling me off the sofa and leading me over to the fire. He laid down a soft faux fur rug on the floor and then turned to me, stepping closer. Then he smoothed my hair away from my face. ‘I didn’t think you’d get more beautiful when you grew up but you did.’

I felt myself blush again. ‘That’s sweet but⁠—’