Chapter 4
Chapter Four
GAbrIEL
Noelle’s wearing a red coat and matching red lipstick. She’s standing in her doorway, cheeks pink from the cold, amber eyes bright behind her glasses, smiling like she has absolutely no idea that she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve seen all year.
“You look gorgeous,” I tell her.
Her cheeks go pinker. “It’s just the coat.”
“It’s who’s in the coat.”
She ducks her head, and my heart beats faster in my chest, warm and certain.
The drive to the rink is quiet except for the Christmas music on the radio. She’s nervous. Her hands keep fidgeting with that old, broken watch, and she bites her lip until I’m tempted to stop the truck and ask her what’s wrong.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Great! Perfect! Looooove ice skating!” The words come out too fast.
When I park, I circle around to open her door, offering my hand. She hesitates a second before slipping her gloved fingers into mine, and heat punches through me despite the freezing air. She looks up, and for a heartbeat, the whole world narrows to her beautiful eyes, and I can’t look away.
The rink’s busy but not packed, and the scent of hot cocoa and popcorn fills the cold air. Strings of colored lights crisscross overhead, casting glimmers of color across the ice.
“When’s the last time you skated?” I ask, handing her the rental skates.
“Oh, you know. Pretty recently.” She waves vaguely.
I crouch to tie my laces, watching her from the corner of my eye as she fumbles with hers, squinting at the loops. She’s so determined it’s adorable. When we step onto the ice, she grabs the wall like it’s a lifeline.
“Noelle? You don’t actually skate, do you?”
“I’m skating right now.” She pushes off, wobbles, and grabs the wall again. “See?”
I move closer, fighting a grin, and offer her my hand. “Trust me?”
She stares at my hand for a long second, then takes it. “If you let me fall, Gabriel Frost…”
“I promise, no falling.”
Her hand fits perfectly in mine. I guide her away from the wall, keeping her tucked close.
Her right arm loops through my elbow, and she’s pressed against my side, soft and warm beneath the layers of fabric.
Every few feet she wobbles, and I steady her with a hand at her waist. The contact sparks straight through me.
“You’re doing great. Just look at me, not the ice.”
“If I look at you, I’ll—” She stops, blushing furiously.
“You’ll what?”
“Nothing. Shut up. Skating is fun.”
I can’t stop grinning. She’s concentrating so hard, cheeks flushed, breath puffing little clouds between us. This close to her, the peachy scent of her shampoo makes it hard not to bury my face in her hair.
The music changes, and my chest goes tight. December Days. Felix’s band. I used to hear this song every night while I checked the soundboard and cables, half-drunk on dreams and cheap beer. Hearing it now, with Noelle’s hand in mine, is like coming home.
“Oh, I love this song,” she says quietly. “I used to play it on repeat when…” She stops, biting her lip.
“Yeah?” My voice roughens. “Felix would be pleased.”
She smiles. “I still can't believe your brother wrote this. F.J. Frost, the small-town boy who made the big time. This whole town was so proud when The Wolves hit the charts.”
“Not too big. He's back here for good now, grumpy as ever.”
“I remember when you left to tour with them.” She looks down at our joined hands.
I'm floored she remembers. “You followed the tour?”
“I maybe had a mild interest. In the music.” Her cheeks go pink. “And possibly checked the band's Instagram for tour updates.”
“For the music?”
“Yep.”
“Noelle Jolly, were you stalking me online?”
“Absolutely not. I was just… staying informed about local success stories.”
“For the town newsletter?”
“Exactly.”
“Except… you don’t write for the newsletter.”
“I could.”
We’re both grinning now, bodies swaying slightly as we glide. Around us, people laugh and skate past, but it feels like the song and the lights have wrapped around just us. The lyrics drift through the air: ‘Coming back for December, home where my heart belongs…’
“I need to tell you something,” she says.
A kid in a pink coat barrels into her before she can finish. She yelps, stumbles, and I catch her. Her body crashes against mine, her hands fisting in my jacket. My arms lock around her waist on instinct. For a second, we stare at each other, breath mingling in the cold. Her eyes flick to my mouth.
The kiss starts soft and tentative, but deepens fast. Her lips are cold and sweet. I cradle the back of her neck, thumb brushing her skin, and she makes a soft sound that nearly knocks me off my feet. She rises on her skates, one hand sliding into my hair, and the rest of the world falls away.
When she pulls back, her breathing’s uneven, lips pink and swollen from kissing. Her eyes are wide.
“I can’t,” she whispers. “I shouldn’t—”
“Noelle, talk to me.”
She shakes her head, backing away, unsteady. “This was a big mistake. I’m sorry.”
“Wait…”
“Please. Don’t say anything, okay? Just take me home.”
The drive back is silent. She stares out the window, fingers tight in her lap, like she’s holding herself together. I want to reach across, to touch her knee, to say you’re not a mistake. But something in her face stops me.
When I park, she’s out of the truck before I can move.
“Thanks for tonight,” she says, not turning around. “I’m so sorry.”
Then she’s gone, the door closing behind her, and I’m left staring at the porch light flickering in the snow.
My phone buzzes. Felix.
How’d the date go?
I don’t answer. How do I explain that I finally kissed the girl I’ve wanted for years, and she ran away like I broke her heart before I even got the chance?