Chapter 3
Lucy
I must be the clumsiest person in the world. And the most unlucky. Although, I suppose it’s a matter of opinion as to whether or not it was good luck or bad luck that had me landing in Samuel’s arms.
I don’t believe in any kind of luck, but I do believe in God, and I also believe that God has been very clear that every man that I’ve dated has not been the right man for me. I believe that because every man I’ve dated has broken up with me after one or two dates, saying things like I’m crazy, psycho, too cheerful, way too cheerful, annoying, that I talk too much, and on and on. You get the idea. I don’t need to go into all of my faults.
Anyway, Samuel might be an eligible bachelor, but he’s not really eligible for me. He’s my best friend’s older brother, and... Are there rules about that?
There are definitely rules about mistletoe. I’m not confused about what they are. I’m just confused about what a girl is supposed to do when she ends up underneath the mistletoe with a guy who does not want to kiss her. Not even a little. If the expression on Samuel’s face is any indication.
He’s looking at me like I’m some kind of roach that crawled out from underneath the wall, and honestly, it makes me want to scurry back to where I came from. Except, I’m not a roach, and the very fact that I have to remind myself of that fact shows exactly how flabbergasted the man has me.
He is strong, stronger than I expected, and hard too. I wasn’t expecting to fall into a chest that feels like a wall.
Or maybe those are his abs. I didn’t get particular when I ran into them. And when I was trying to push away from them, I wasn’t paying too much attention either.
So everything is hard, chest, abs, arms, even his face. His eyes too.
I don’t understand my infatuation with a man who has hard eyes. Except, I thought I saw a little bit of a smile there for a moment, and I am the endless optimist, knowing that I might possibly be able to bring that smile out again, if I just had the opportunity.
But now, we’re being forced to decide whether we’re going to do what the crowd is chanting: “kiss, kiss, kiss,” or whether we’re going to awkwardly deny them.
Samuel hasn’t said anything, but his head starts to lower.
Oh my goodness. I feel hot, then cold, and I want to fan myself. I do believe the man is going to kiss me.
All right, I can handle this.
I reach up, because yes, ever since I’ve been friends with Allison and met Samuel, I’ve dreamed about kissing him. Actually, I didn’t need to realize that Samuel was her brother in order to dream about him.
I’m not going to turn this down, although part of me says that I shouldn’t go around kissing guys who I know don’t have any affection for me at all.
I’ve studiously avoided mistletoe all of my life for that very reason. I don’t want to get stuck kissing some stranger I don’t know.
But Samuel... All right, I admit I want to kiss him. Normally I don’t go around doing whatever I want to do, but it’s going to be on the cheek and no big deal.
Except, as I reach up to him, tilting my head just a little, leaning to the side, assuming he’s going to peck my cheek, he tilts his head the same way, and I think he’s going in for a lip kiss, because our noses bump.
This is awkward. I swallow, feeling like I’m the reason it happens, and quickly tilt my head to the other side.
Only, he seems to have the same idea to fix this problem, and his head tilts to the other side just as fast. Our noses are in the way again.
My cheeks are flaming, and I want to die, but he seems just as cool as ever.
And maybe there is that twitch of his lips again and a small twinkle in his eye? I’m not sure, but I feel two warm hands holding either side of my face, and he says, “Let me help.”
If he wants to help, he could fan me, because my heart is racing, and I feel like I’m going to combust.
I don’t know what he reads on my face, but I know his lip quirks as his head lowers, and his lips touch mine. They’re soft and warm and absolutely perfect, and my hands go up to his shoulders, sliding around them, and my eyes flutter shut as I lean into him.
I’m not thinking it is going to be any kind of serious kiss, but somehow, one of his hands slides from my cheek to my hair, and the other one lands around my waist, and he pulls me closer as my hands bury themselves in his hair, and I don’t even remember letting go of his shoulders and wrapping them around him, but we are kissing, truly kissing, and I have completely forgotten that there is an entire room full of people watching us.
I think my feet might be off the floor, and I’m fairly certain it’s not because I all of a sudden decide to start levitating, although honestly, at that point, nothing would surprise me. Even levitation.
Then, ever so slowly, I’m lowering, sliding down his body as my feet slowly touch the floor, and he slowly lifts his head a fraction of an inch from mine, and his words, low and soft, breathe over my face. “I never liked mistletoe. But I just changed my mind.”