Chapter 2 #2
She considers this. "I don't know. Maybe all the times I made someone laugh when they were sad? All the social media campaigns that actually worked and helped the company grow? The times I was there for Alexis when she needed me?" She pauses. "What about you?"
"All the surgeries, I suppose. All the people who can walk without pain now, the kids who can play sports again." I look at her. "And maybe yesterday—taking in a beautiful, heartbroken woman and reminding her how extraordinary she is."
Nina's breath catches. "Joel?"
"It's true." I shift closer, unable to help myself. "You are extraordinary, Nina. You're brilliant and funny and warm, and you light up every room you walk into. If your ex couldn't see that, he's blind."
"Stop," she whispers, but she's leaning toward me.
"Why should I stop?" My hand comes up to her face, and I trace the curve of her jaw with my thumb. "Why should I stop telling you the truth?"
"Because you're looking at me like—" She breaks off, her eyes dropping to my mouth.
"Like what?"
"Like you want to kiss me."
"I do want to kiss you." The admission hangs between us. "God, Nina, I want to kiss you so much."
It's just us, snowed in together, and every reason I have for not kissing her feels flimsy in the face of how badly I need to.
I cup her face with both hands, my thumbs stroking her soft cheeks. She's so beautiful it hurts to look at her. I lean in slowly, giving her time to pull away, watching her eyes flutter closed in anticipation.
Our lips are a breath apart. I can feel her warmth, smell the wine on her breath, and I want this more than I've wanted anything in years.
Then I do something that surprises us both—I smile.
"What?" Nina breathes, her eyes searching mine.
"I've imagined kissing you about a thousand times." The confession comes out rough, honest. "And now that I'm finally here, I'm terrified I'm going to fuck it up."
Her expression softens, and she lets out a breathy laugh. "You're not going to fuck it up."
"You don't know that." I stroke her cheeks with my thumbs, memorizing the feel of her skin.
"I've been thinking about this for five years, Nina.
Five years of watching you walk into my house and trying not to stare.
Five years of listening to you talk and hanging on every word.
Five years of knowing you were completely off-limits and wanting you anyway. "
Her eyes widen. "Five years?"
"Since that first Thanksgiving. You wore a green turkey sweater and you laughed at all my terrible jokes and I thought—" I break off, shaking my head at myself.
"I thought, this is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, and she's twenty years old and my daughter's best friend. I'm the worst person alive."
"You're not—"
"I watched you date other guys. Listened to Alexis tell me about your boyfriends. And every single time, I hated it. Hated that it wasn't me. How fucked up is that?"
Nina's hands come up to cover mine where they're still cupping her face. "Joel, I've been in love with you since I was twenty years old."
The words hit me like a punch to the chest. "In love?"
"In love." Her voice is steady, certain.
"Not a crush. Not infatuation. I fell in love with you at that Thanksgiving dinner when you asked me about my art history class and actually knew what the hell I was talking about.
When you made your daughter laugh and looked at her like she hung the moon.
When you gave me seconds without making me feel like I should be eating less. "
Tears are streaming down her face now, but she's not sobbing—just letting them fall. "Every relationship I've had has been me trying to find someone who made me feel even a fraction of what you make me feel. And they all failed because they weren't you."
I'm completely undone. My heart is hammering so hard I can feel it in my throat.
"I'm not good at this," I admit. "My ex-wife left because I work too much, because I'm not exciting enough. I'm boring, Nina. I make pasta and do crosswords and listen to NPR. I'm in bed by ten most nights. You're twenty-five. You should be out with someone who—"
"Stop." She says it firmly, her hands tightening over mine. "I don't want someone exciting. I don't want someone my age who thinks going to clubs is a personality. My ex made me feel like shit about myself every single day."
She leans closer, her forehead almost touching mine. "You make me feel seen. You make me feel safe. You make me feel like I matter. Do you have any idea how rare that is?"
"Nina—"
"I'm not some kid with a crush on an older man. I'm a grown woman who knows what she wants. And what I want is you." Her voice drops to a whisper. "I've wanted you for five years, Joel. I'm not confused. I'm not rebounding. I'm not going to change my mind in the morning."
We're staring at each other, and I can see my own desire reflected in her eyes—along with something deeper, something that terrifies me because I feel it too.
"Alexis," I finally say. "God, Nina, what do we tell Alexis?"
"The truth." She doesn't hesitate. "That we have feelings for each other. That we're both adults who want to see where this goes. She might be weird about it at first—hell, she'll probably be really weird about it—but she loves us both. She'll come around."
"And if she doesn't?"
Nina's quiet for a moment. "Then that's something we'll have to figure out together. But Joel, I can't keep living my life afraid of what other people think. Even people I love." She pulls back just enough to meet my eyes fully. "Can you?"
And there it is—the real question. Am I brave enough to reach for what I want? To risk my daughter's anger and society's judgment and my own self-doubt for a chance at something real?
I think about the past five years. The loneliness. The way my house felt empty even when Alexis was home. The way I came alive every time Nina visited, how I'd find excuses to be in whatever room she was in.
I think about yesterday—the way she looked in my kitchen, the way she felt pressed against me while we made pasta, the way my whole chest opened up when she smiled.
"I've never wanted anything the way I want you," I say roughly. "It scares the hell out of me."
"Good." Her smile is soft, understanding. "I'm scared too."
"Yeah?"
"Terrified. You're Alexis's dad. You're this accomplished surgeon with your life together. I'm a social media manager who just got dumped and has no idea what I'm doing half the time. What if I'm not enough for you?"
"Nina." I pull her closer, until our foreheads touch. "You're everything."
We stay like that for a long moment, breathing each other in, neither of us brave enough to close the final distance.
Finally, Nina pulls back slightly. "So what do we do?"
I take a shaky breath. "We go slow. We figure this out. Alexis doesn't get back until the twenty-sixth—" I check my phone, pulling up her last text where she confirmed she can't get out until day after Christmas. "We have two days. Just us. No pressure, no rushing. We just... see what this is."
"And then we tell her? Together?"
"Together," I agree. "When she gets home. Honest conversation."
Nina nods slowly. "Okay. Slow. I can do slow."
"Good." I'm still holding her face, still close enough to kiss her, and it's taking every ounce of willpower I have not to. "Because I really don't want to fuck this up, and if I kiss you right now, I'm not going to want to stop."
Her breath hitches. "Would that be so bad?"
"Yes, because you deserve more than me losing control and taking you on the couch like I've been fantasizing about for five years." The admission makes her eyes go dark. "You deserve to be courted properly. You deserve—"
"Joel." She cuts me off, her voice firm. "Stop deciding what I deserve. I know what I want."
"Tomorrow," I say, and this time it's not a dodge—it's a promise. "Let me wake up on Christmas morning knowing this is real. Let me make you breakfast and give you the present I bought you months ago. Let me do this right."
She searches my face. "You bought me a present?"
"In September." I feel heat creeping up my neck. "I saw it and thought of you. Told myself I'd give it to Alexis to give to you, but I've been keeping it in my desk drawer, looking at it like an idiot."
Her smile is radiant. "You really are gone for me, aren't you?"
"Completely." I finally force myself to step back, to drop my hands. "So let me court you properly. Even if it's just for one day."
Nina stands there for a moment, looking at me with an expression I can't quite read. Then she moves closer, rises on her toes, and presses the softest, briefest kiss to my cheek—so close to the corner of my mouth it makes my entire body light up.
"Goodnight, Joel," she whispers. "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, sweetheart."
She heads upstairs, and I watch her go, my hand pressed to where her lips touched my skin.