Chapter 14 Liam
Liam
Why is there mistletoe here?” I demand, again. My coworkers’ cheers fade as they avert their eyes. It sure as hell wasn’t there earlier.
“Chill. I put it up after you both went down the hall,” Jasmine says as she holds up her hands in a calming gesture. “I thought it was going to be fun.”
Fun. Some cheap entertainment for their enjoyment. A kiss for them to cheer for.
My boiling anger isn’t just for them. I think about how many spectacles Henri has been expected to participate in for the sake of others.
She deserves better than this. What’s worse is that Jasmine knows that Henri will go to any lengths needed to sell our relationship and leveraged that for a practical joke.
“It’s not a big deal,” Henri says at my side as she holds my hand.
“It is to me. I think I’m done with this party.”
Henri doesn’t argue, but she does drop my hand as we head through the party, grabbing our coats before we take an elevator down. The silence between us is charged and nothing like it was when we were eating.
When we step outside onto the empty sidewalk, Henri pulls me aside, gripping the sleeve of my coat.
“Why are you so upset? It’s just mistletoe; we haven’t talked much about it but I’m assuming we’ll have to kiss eventually.
” Her eyes dart over my face, searching for an answer.
The falling snow starts to dust her hair, forming a white crown.
I shake my head. “I don’t want it to happen like that—in front of so many people.”
“But that’s the point. It’s not for us, it’s for them.”
“Why does it have to be for them?” I rasp. “Why can’t we have some of this for ourselves.”
“Liam, what are you saying? I don’t understand.” I think she does and maybe she’s just too scared to say it.
But I’m not. “If I’m going to kiss you, I want to do it right, not for some crowd. Maybe the rest of this is for the article, but would it be so bad to want something for ourselves.”
She drags her plush lower lip through her teeth. “And what is the right way?”
I take a step closer, my hand finding her lower back and pressing her closer to me. I’m practically vibrating with need.
“I take you out on a real date. You wear this ridiculous red dress again, even though it’s hard to breathe when I look at you in it.
I pay when you’re not looking so you don’t insist on splitting the bill.
” I cup her cold cheek in my palm and tilt her face up to mine.
Her lips are a few inches from mine. “And after, I kiss you in the snow because I can’t wait any longer. ”
“Liam, we can’t. We’re working together.” She’s right and I hate it. I wish there wasn’t so much depending on this article. If it was just about the article, I’d find another way, but she needs this more than me.
“Can we pretend for a second that I’ve just done all of that. And now we’re standing here?”
Her shoulders shake on a shuddering breath even as she leans closer, the tip of her nose brushing against my cheek. I can count the snowflakes on her lashes, and I think I’d give anything to stay here to count each and every one.
“One second?”
“Just one.” And then another and another after that, until the seconds extend into infinity.
“Fuck it.”
And then she’s kissing me. She’s fucking kissing me. Her hand snakes around my neck, pulling me in, mouth soft and hesitant against mine. Like there’s something she’s scared of breaking. Something precious at risk of shattering in the moment.
I pull away, but only barely, my lips brushing against hers as I say, “Let’s go somewhere. Anywhere. Give me one more second.” And then another and another. “We can go to my place and just be there, together.”
She stiffens and pushes away from me, already shaking her head. “We can’t do that. This was already too far. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said yes.”
“Henri.” Her name crawls up my throat as a plea.
“I need to go.” Her eyes remain on me as she steps up to the curb and hails a cab. The yellow car slots neatly into place, ready to whisk her away.
I’m frozen, as if the slush under my feet has crawled up over my shoes and solidified into blocks of ice.
Gripping the top of the door, she pauses, and for a moment I think she’ll turn back. But she doesn’t, disappearing into the back seat, leaving me out in the cold.
She’s gone. Just when I thought I had her.
But she was never mine to have.