Page 30 of Under The Meh-stletoe

We stood next to each other with interlocked fingers.

The corner of Daniel's lips curled up. "Listen. We're going to do it. This is your fantasy, isn't it?"

"It is, but— when people see it tomorrow…"

"It's going to be fine. This is chalk paint. It'll go away with the first rain. Considering where we live, it won't last more than a few hours. A day at most."

"Oh." Relief rushed through me. "That's different."

"So? Are we doing it?" He offered the can, shaking it in front of me.

His lips stretched into a smile. I grabbed the can and giggled. Damn alcohol.

Still holding his hand, I wroteXmas Suxin big letters on the pavement.

He laughed. "Yes! Good girl. Or should I say, bad girl?"

"Call me a good girl all you want."

"I like it when you're feisty."

He took the can from me and added an angry face next to the words. "There. Now I'm not just an accessory to the crime. I have blood on my hands."

Daniel offered the can back, but I shook my head. He put it in one of his pockets and hooked his thumb from it.

We still held hands; turning to face each other happened naturally. Being accomplices brought us closer, to a place where we could just exist. Him with his sharp disposition, me not caring. Me rolling my eyes at him, and him liking it.

"The town still doesn't have surveillance cameras, right?" I gazed up at him. "There's no recording of us doing this, I hope?"

"Nothing. No one will know but you and me." His voice deepened.

I resisted it. "It'll be the talk of the town tomorrow." I took a picture with my phone and put it right back in my pocket. "There. I'll always remember. Thank you."

"You're welcome." He stepped closer to me.

"I appreciate you doing this for me. And everything else. For someone who's irritable and always talks about wanting to be alone, you're quite kind with your fellow townspeople."

He got closer. I gulped.

He took my other hand in his. "I'm not kind with everyone. But it seems I'm kind with you."

"Why is that?" The words came out soft, barely held in the breath that left me at his proximity.

"I like being alone, you're right." He angled his head toward me. I couldn't help but align mine to his lips. "But I think I also like being alone… with you."

"It hasn't even been a week since we said we wouldn't do anything about this."

"I know."

And I don't care.

I heard the words clearly in my mind, but I didn't know if they were uttered in his voice or mine.

The touch of his lips flipped a switch in my muscle memory. Sensations burst and travelled through my body, reminding me of the kiss under the mistletoe, and how much more I had wanted at the time. He pressed his mouth to mine and it came right back, that want. It roared inside, a sudden rumble behind by breastbone, asking what else he could do; what more would I feel if I kissed him back.

I did. I opened my lips and glued myself to him, arms around his shoulders. His curls were silk against my fingers, as I dug into his hair. His tongue explored my mouth and he surrounded me with his arms. He pulled me close, and I went to the tip of my toes to reach him better. Leaning onto him, he held me as we kissed and kissed.

My glasses went askew. Our clothes were too bulky to get a proper feel, and yet I craved his hands all over. He must have been feeling the same way, because one of his hands started its way down to the back of my jeans… but he stopped.