Always, in December(38)
“Better late than never.” She was surprised at how level she sounded, given the way her heart was beating right now.
His lips did that twitching that she’d recently decided was a smile as he ran his hand down the length of her arm. And then he was kissing her and without even thinking about it she hooked her arms around his neck, pressing herself closer to him. Dimly, she heard the door closing behind her and realized they’d walked back into it, that she was pressed between him and it, his hands now on her bare arms as she stripped off her coat. There was the sound of her keys dropping to the floor and she didn’t care enough to look for them, to make sure that the door was locked properly, because that would mean she had to stop kissing him. It was him who pulled away, and she was relieved that she was not the only one breathing heavily.
“The taxi is downstairs, waiting for me,” he said, his voice hitching a little. She felt her stomach drop, her throat tightening immediately, though she managed to press her lips together and nod. He didn’t try to move away, though, just reached out to touch her hair again, his eyes on hers the whole time. So, knowing that she may well be setting herself up for a sting, knowing that she shouldn’t risk it because she was already vulnerable and a rejection the night before Christmas might well send her over the edge, Josie took a breath, cocked her head, and smiled.
“Or you could stay.”
Max considered her for a moment, then gave her a slow grin. “Or I could stay.” She laughed, a tiny bit breathlessly, as he kissed her again.
Josie woke while it was still dark—or as dark as it got here, anyway. Max had rolled away from her slightly in the night, but she could still feel the heat of him next to her, his fingers lightly touching hers. His breathing was heavy, so it seemed safe to say he was still asleep. And under the duvet, he was very, very naked. As was she.
She blinked a few times, trying to wake her eyes up, then shifted her body carefully away from his, trying to create as little movement on the bed as possible. She hesitated at the edge of it, biting her lip as she watched the shape of Max’s body. He looked asleep, and she didn’t know why he’d be faking it. So she stepped lightly onto the lino floor, sucking her breath in through her teeth as the freezing temperature outside the protection of her bed hit her. She tiptoed as quietly as she could across the room, grabbing some leggings and a top along the way. When she made it successfully to the other side of the bedroom door she blew out a slightly shaky breath, then pretty much ran to the bathroom, wincing at the cold air on her bare skin.
It was a relief to switch the bathroom light on and see what she was doing as she quickly tugged on her leggings and top. She sighed as she looked at herself in the mirror. She supposed no one looked good the morning after, but it didn’t help that her mascara and eyeliner had smudged under her eyes, that her light layer of foundation had cracked in places, and that her lips were slightly swollen. She touched them lightly and grinned despite herself. That bit she didn’t have as much issue with.
She set to work on her face, washing it clear of last night’s residue and applying a light layer of BB cream to smooth out her skin, then attacked her hair and brushed her teeth before nodding to herself. Better. At least the evidence of last night’s indulgence wouldn’t be quite as obvious when she woke up now.
She tiptoed back into the bedroom, but there was no need—Max blinked at her through the darkness as she came in. “It’s cold without you here,” he complained, his voice groggy from sleep.
“Sorry,” she whispered, the dark and cold somehow impressing the need to be quiet, like somehow she’d wake the other houses up too early if she spoke at a normal volume. Though she supposed many would be up already, children running excitedly into their parents’ room with stockings, determined to start Christmas Day as early as possible. She only had vague memories of doing that, before the accident. She shook her head away from the memory. “I didn’t switch the heating on last night,” she said apologetically. “I forgot.”
He stretched out his arms above his head and she traced the movement, running her gaze along the length of his muscled torso. “Have to say, I enjoyed the reasons for temporary memory loss more than I would’ve enjoyed the heating.”
She didn’t switch the light on, unwilling to break the spell of darkness and catapult them into reality. She felt him watching her as she padded back toward the bed on bare feet, then perched awkwardly on a corner. She didn’t know if she should just get up, now she was up, wasn’t sure if he’d want to leave right away. He answered that question by grabbing her arm, pulling her across the bed toward him and putting an arm around her. “I told you,” he breathed into her ear, “it’s cold without you here.” She laughed softly. He kissed the side of her neck and a shiver went through her. “Bit one-sided though—you’re cheating.” He gestured at her clothes and she shifted a little closer, her back pressed against him, tracing her fingers down his forearm.
“Do you want me to leave, so you can get dressed too?” She was aware of the slight smirk in her voice, kind of liked the way it sounded.
He kissed her on the neck again. “No. I want you to stay so you can get undressed.” She turned her head to grin at him, and he brushed a feather-light kiss on the corner of her mouth. “Happy Christmas,” he murmured.