Page 98 of Eight Days of Christmas
She whispered against his lips, “Leo? Don’t ever let me go.”
He kissed her gently this time, slow and sensuous, holding her face in his palms and tracing a rough thumb against her cheek. “Never again,” he said, before plunging into a kiss so intense, Isabella’s knees nearly buckled.
Maybe they were being crazy, saying these erratic things to one another—making promises in the middle of kisses like that. But she meant it. She didn’t want to leave Leo again. Thinking of going back to New York in less than two days seemed impossible.
Leo pulled back, running his palms down the sides of her neck. “I think we have something rare here, Izz.”
“Me too.”
He pressed his forehead against hers, his breathing fast. “I don’t want it to end.”
“I don’t either.” She peered up into his eyes, his dancing back and forth between hers, shimmering against the reflection of the lights. “But what can we do?”
Leo ran his hands over her back, caressing her. “Maybe we actually try this thing? Maybe we try long-distance for a while? You could come back for a visit? I could come there…to see you?”
Isabella’s heart squeezed in her chest. Leo had never been a fan of New York. He’d never had intentions to visit her there when she was in college. But now, he was seriously considering it. For a moment, she pictured Leo there, in the city that had become hers, flannel and Carhartts, beanie and scruffy jawline, and a bubble of laughter burst from her throat. Even as tears burned her eyes.
“Not exactly the response I was hoping for,” he said after a long exhale.
“I’m sorry.” She bit her lip. “Just thinking of you in New York, sitting in my favorite coffee shop, having a beer at my favorite corner bar, taking a walk in Central Park, tanning on the apartment rooftop.”
He stiffened in her arms. “I don’t fit.”
“No, no,” she said quickly, squeezing him tight. “That’s not it. The opposite actually. I’ve waited so long to see you in New York, for you to visit me there. To have two of my favorite things in the same place…it would make my heart so happy.” She threaded her arms around his neck, smiling up at him.
Leo’s lips curved, growing wider with each passing second. She wanted to kiss him there and never stop. But he nuzzled her neck and locked his arms around her.
When he pulled back slightly, his eyes glossy, she feared her heart might just burst straight out of her chest. She couldn’t remember being this happy, ever.
“So are we doing this?”
“I think we are.”
He kissed her smiling lips, lifting her off her feet and spinning her around while the grandfather clock in the living room announced it was midnight. Setting her back on her feet, he took her by the hand, pulling her back into the entryway. “C’mon, let’s go and we can bring in Christmas with a bang.”
She giggled, hurrying to put on her boots. “I can’t wait.”
Then they rushed outside, running across the snowy path, hand in hand toward the Hoffman house, the pink bunny pj’s glowing against the moon’s gleam.
Chapter Thirty
Isabella
The kiss goodbyethat morning was quick. They slept too late and now Isabella had to sneak back over to the Whitley house when the sun was already shining. As a teenager, she’d climbed out her bedroom window and across the roof to the porch, and then jumped down with ease numerous times. But as an adult, and dressed in her wedged ankle boots, it took a bit more maneuvering.
Dressed in the same clothes from the night before, she slipped out of Leo’s bedroom window, padded across the roof, and climbed down the trellis. When she’d almost reached the ground, her sweater snagged on a piece of the lattice, and she yanked on it to free herself.
She tugged too hard, and the next thing she knew she was falling backward, flailing her arms, a strangled cry leaving her throat. She closed her eyes, bracing for impact.
She landed with athudin the snow. Blinking, she groaned and stared up at the early morning winter sky. Thankfully, a snowdrift broke her fall, probably saving her a trip to the ER. What had she been thinking? It was Christmas Day and Norah’s wedding. There was no time for sneaking in and out of windows, falling into snowdrifts.
Just as she was about to push herself up, two faces hovered over her. Familiar and yet at the same time, not. Nana and Papa’s faces had aged since she’d seen them in person last. But they still had the same recognizable features. Papa and his red bulbous nose and black plastic framed glasses that had come into style again, and Nana with her thin bow-shaped lips and hair so gray it was white.
“Isabella dear, is that you?” Nana said.
Ice cold snow slid up the back of Isabella’s sweater, coming in contact with her bare skin and she squealed. She spit snow from her mouth and removed the coat’s hood from her head which had come up during her impromptu gymnastic flip.
Welp, it was too late. And not only had she been caught, but she was wet and cold.
