Meet Me Under the Mistletoe (Holiday Romance Collection #3)

20. Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

Noelle

T here was nothing in life that would have prepared me for waking up the next morning to the aftermath of sleeping with my best friend.

Theo and I have slept together too many times to count for it to be appropriate, honestly. Since we were kids, we’ve had sleepovers. Obviously they stopped for a time between middle school and graduating high school, but I can’t count the times we’ve fallen asleep together on the couch, watching movies or whatever sports game was on TV. Study nights that went late. In our college years—and admittedly even after—we went home together after parties or late nights out at the bar and crashed in the same bed to sleep it off.

Not once has it ever been awkward… well, for me at least. He’s always been my safe space, my rock. Even if we have always bickered like an old married couple and tormented each other mercilessly, he’s just always been… my Theo . My best friend, my confidant. My person, I guess. Our friendship has always just been easy, and the occasional sleepover with him was just a normal thing. I thought so, anyway. Looking back on the numerous times it’s happened over the years now, I’m sure if these feelings he’s finally revealing go back as far as he says they do, things had to have been at least a little awkward for him.

But waking up, naked and sore and deliriously sated, next to an also naked Theo…yeah, I could get used to this. I’m laying facing him, one of his arms draped over my waist and our legs are tangled together like a pretzel. He’s a furnace, and I’m a little shocked at how well I slept, because I’m fairly roasting now that I’m awake. And I have to pee.

The light filtering in through my bedroom window is muted and gray, which means it’s either very early, or still snowing. I can only imagine the amount of snow piling up on his car, in my driveway… the roads are probably a hazard to be out on if it is in fact still snowing.

As carefully as I can, I manage to unwind myself from him and slip out of bed. Tiptoeing to the dresser, I pull the first long sleeved shirt I find out of the drawer and shove my head and arms into it. It’s one of my dad’s old shirts that I’d pilfered when Mom had finally gone through his things and decided what to get rid of, and it’s far too big on me, so it hangs halfway down my thighs and the arms are about four inches too long. It’s a burgundy red, basic Glidden brand shirt with a pocket sewn into the left side and there’s a hole in one of the armpits, but it’s my favorite. It doesn’t smell like him anymore, but sometimes I take it with me to Mom’s and spray it with his cologne that I know she has tucked away in her bathroom.

I pluck a pair of tall socks out of the top drawer—Christmas themed fuzzy socks, Val would be so proud of me—and I hop on one foot, then the other, to shove my feet into them. Glancing over my shoulder at Theo, I ascertain that he’s still sleeping soundly, then sneak out of the bedroom to the bathroom, then make my way out to the kitchen, where I start a large pot of coffee to brew.

Once it’s ready, I pour myself a cup, spritz a little chocolate flavored whipped topping on it, then dust it with cinnamon. Walking over to the living room window, I look down at the crumpled, tangled mess of lights that Theo used to tie me up with last night, and my body burns all over again. Good lord the man’s game is top tier.

Outside, the world is nothing but a blanket of white. Everything is covered in over a foot of snow, and even the street doesn’t look like it’s seen a snowplow yet. I glance at Theo’s car; there’s no way it’s going to make it across town.

I bite my lower lip. Guess he’s stuck here with me for a little longer. I shiver with anticipation at the thought of being snowed in with Theo for who knows how long.

At the sound of my bedroom door swishing open, I turn, glancing over my shoulder as he emerges. He’s in nothing but his black boxer briefs, his long, trim legs encased in the stretchy black fabric. His hips and waist are trim and narrow, his chest widening slightly. His shoulders are wide, lean muscle shifting as he reaches one arm up to scratch at the back of his neck as he walks toward me. He truly is beautiful.

He whistles long and low as he reaches me, his gaze traveling out the window along the snow-covered street. “I hope you have food in the fridge, I don’t think we’re getting out of here today.”

I laugh, nodding as I turn back to the window. “Guess it’s a good thing I went grocery shopping the other night, huh?” He steps up behind me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, and rests his chin on the top of my head. I sigh, leaning back against his chest, careful not to spill my coffee still clutched between my palms. I press a kiss to the forearm that’s crossed over my sternum. He shifts, lowering his head so he can graze his lips over the spot behind my right ear, and I can’t help the smile that pulls at my mouth. My voice is barely a whisper as I say, “Good morning.”

“Hmm,” he murmurs low, squeezing me just a little tighter. “Merry Christmas.”

I let my head fall to the side, leaning into his caress. God this feels so right. So natural. Like this is how it should have been all along. “Merry Christmas, Theo.”

“Is there anymore coffee?” he asks, straightening. I give him a glare over my shoulder.

“No, I made just enough for myself.”

He laughs as he walks around to the kitchen. “You really don’t know how to not be a brat, do you?”

“Not when I’m awake,” I counter, my tone sassy. He glares at me from beneath lowered brows as he pours himself a cup of coffee. I wink, and he shakes his head with a light scoff.

“Don’t think being cute is going to get you out of trouble,” he grumbles darkly, raising the mug to his lips. Those intense, baby blue eyes of his are fixed on me.

“Maybe I like being in trouble with you,” I whisper. What I can only describe as a rumbly groan escapes him.

“You’re going to be the death of my sanity,” he grunts, shaking his head again. I grin over at him.

“Oh, how the tables have turned,” I tease, making my way around the living room to the kitchen. I set my coffee on the counter then step in front of him. He glowers at me from over the rim of his cup as he takes another sip, then he sets it down with a thunk next to mine. Wrapping my arms around his naked torso, I lean into his chest as he wraps his arms around me as well. Turning my head, I plant a kiss to the very center of his chest. One of his hands buries itself in my hair at the back of my head, holding me to him. Spanning my hands wide across his back, I murmur directly against his skin, “How is it that this feels so right, Theo?”

The hand cupping the back of my head tightens in my hair so that he can tilt my face up toward his. His eyes, those beautiful blue eyes, search mine. “Because this is where we were always supposed to end up. It just took us a little while to get here.”

My chest cracks open at his fervent, quiet words. “I wish you would have told me sooner.”

His other hand cups my jaw and cheek in his palm, his thumb swiping over my bottom lip, his eyes just a little sad. “I was too scared to take the chance of telling you and having you pull away from me, Noe. I was selfish enough to need you in my life no matter how it needed to happen, just as long as I didn’t lose you. I needed you too much, even if you never returned those feelings.”

I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. I don’t know that I return those same feelings that he has, not yet. I do know I love Theo, have always loved him. Just in a different way than he has… He hasn’t come out and said the words, thankfully, because I’m not entirely sure I’m ready for that yet.

He smiles gently, swiping his fingers along my cheek and tucking my hair behind my ear. The gesture is sweet and so tender it makes my heart ache. “I know you know, and I know you well enough to know you’re not ready for that, Angel. I won’t say it yet, but I think we both know how I feel. All I ask is that you give this a chance, maybe let us see where it takes us. One day at a time. Please, Noelle.”

My eyes bounce between his. God, he’s so perfect. “One day at a time?”

Both of his hands frame my face, pushing my hair back over my shoulders and then he dips down to press his mouth to mine. It’s a sweet, chaste kiss. Full of promise and beautiful opportunities.

“One day at a time,” he repeats, his lips moving against my mouth.

I nod. One day at a time.