Chapter Six #2
“It’s a cultural institution, Knox. Jimmy Stewart. Zuzu’s petals. Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings.”
“I have no idea what any of that means.”
“That’s a crime.”
“Arrest me.”
The words drop an octave without my permission, and Hailey’s gaze drops to my mouth for just a second before snapping back
up. I watch her throat move as she swallows.
“Maybe I will,” she says. “Handcuffs and everything.”
Heat coils low in my stomach. “Is that a promise?”
“It’s a threat.”
“I don’t feel threatened.”
“You should.” But she’s almost smiling, and we’ve started walking again, close enough that I’m aware of every inch of space
between us. Washington Square isn’t far now, and the arch is visible ahead, lit with thousands of white lights against the
darkening sky.
The park is magic. There’s no other word for it. The Christmas tree in the center is massive, towering over the fountain,
decorated with ornaments that catch and scatter the light like stars. The arch glows behind us, and everywhere I look, people
are smiling and pointing at decorations and taking photos.
And as we stand there, taking it in, the first snowflakes begin to fall.
They drift down slowly, fat and lazy, catching the light as they spiral through the air. Within moments, the world transforms
into something softened and hushed.
Hailey turns her face up to the sky with her eyes closed, snowflakes landing on her lashes and melting against her cheeks.
She’s smiling, really smiling, and my heart expands until I can barely breathe.
I want to tell her everything. The months of watching. The observations I’ve written down like love letters. I want to lay
myself bare and let her see exactly how deep this obsession goes.
But I’m terrified that the truth will break whatever this is. That she’ll look at me with horror instead of warmth. That I’ll
lose her before I ever really had her.
“Knox.”
Her voice pulls me back. She’s watching me now, snowflakes caught in her hair, her expression curious.
“You went somewhere,” she says. “Just now. Where did you go?”
I take a breath. In my career, I’ve faced down armed combatants and walked into situations where the odds of walking out were
slim, but none of that compares to what I’m about to do.
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
She waits. Patient. Watchful.
I step closer. Close enough to touch her. Close enough that the snow falls between us like a curtain closing out the rest
of the world.
“I’ve been watching you.” The words come out rough. Fractured. “For months. Following you, learning your patterns, your routines.
Where you go, what you do, who you talk to. I know it’s not normal, and I know what it makes me.” My jaw locks. “But I can’t
stop.”
Silence.
The snow keeps falling and the lights keep glowing. Somewhere nearby, a child laughs at something.
Hailey doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. She watches me, and I can’t read what’s behind her eyes.
I’ve destroyed everything.
Then, slowly, she says, “I know.”
My entire body goes rigid. “You know?”
“I’ve known for weeks, maybe longer.” Her lips curve into something that’s not quite a smile. “I let you follow me, Knox.
I wanted you to.”
I stare at her. The snow falls around us, and the words don’t make sense. Can’t make sense. I’ve confessed to stalking her,
and she’s looking at me like I’ve given her a gift.
“Why?” The word is hardly a sound.
She reaches up, and her fingers brush my jaw. I stop breathing.
“Because I like it,” she says softly. “Because you make me feel protected and exposed at once. Because I’ve never felt more
seen.” Her eyes hold mine. “You look at me like I’m the only thing in the world worth watching. Do you have any idea what
that feels like?”
“Yes.” My voice cracks on the word. “I know exactly what that feels like.”
Because she’s looking at me the same way right now. Standing in the snow beneath Christmas lights, looking at me like I matter.
Like I’m real.
I kiss her.
There’s no decision to it, no conscious choice. One moment we’re standing apart and the next my mouth is on hers, one hand
in her hair, the other pressed against the small of her back. She tastes like apples and cinnamon, and when she makes a small
sound against my lips, I pull her closer.
She kisses me back hard, her fingers gripping the front of my coat and pulling me in, and there’s nothing gentle about it.
This is months of want made physical. Every look across crowded rooms. Every accidental touch. Every night I spent watching
her window and wishing I was brave enough to do exactly this.
Her mouth opens under mine and I deepen the kiss, my tongue sliding against hers, and the sound she makes shoots straight to my cock.
I’m hardening in my jeans and I don’t care, can’t care, because she’s pressing herself against me like she wants to crawl inside my skin.
My hand fists in her hair and she gasps into my mouth, and the small, desperate noise undoes something in me.
I back her up until she’s pressed against one of the stone pillars near the arch, my body covering hers, shielding her from
the cold and from anyone who might be watching. She hooks her fingers through my belt loops and pulls my hips flush against
hers, and when she feels how hard I am, she doesn’t pull away. She rolls her hips against me, just slightly, and I groan against
her mouth.
“Hailey.” Her name comes out like a warning.
“Knox.” Mine comes out like a dare.
I kiss her deeper, one hand braced against the stone beside her head, the other sliding down to grip her hip. She’s making
these small, breathy sounds that I want to memorize and replay for the rest of my life. The snow is falling around us and
we’re in public and I don’t give a damn about any of it.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard. Her lipstick is smeared, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright with
something that makes my dick ache.
“Well,” she manages.
“Yeah.”
“That was . . .”
“Yeah.”
She laughs, breathless. “We should probably do that again.”
“Definitely.”