"Before I came home, after the New Year's party. We went back to his apartment, and I thought something else was going to happen, but then I broke up with him instead, surprising us both I think."
"Why?" he says, even quieter this time.
I lick my lips, breathing, watching the puffs of air flutter white before my lips, before evaporating into the black night. "I wasn't in love with him."
Ollie still doesn't move.
But I can't say this to the back of his wool coat. I need to see him. I need to look him in the eyes to know he hears me. So I reach out, slipping my fingers into his, and at my touch, he finally turns around, hope a fire in his crystal eyes.
"I love you, Ollie." His fingers tighten, but that's the only move he makes. So I do the only thing I know how to do when my nerves are at an uncontrollable level—I babble. "I love you, Ollie, and I'm sorry, so sorry I didn't say it before. Because obviously I love you, I never stopped loving you, even when I hated you. And believe me, I did hate you for a while there. But, I mean, let's not focus on that. Because you, me, we have another chance now, and I really don't think we should give it up. Not over a little thing like my being insanely stupid and not telling you this five minutes ago, because I'm here now, in below zero temperatures I might add, telling you I believe in us and I trust you and I want to give us a chance. We need to. Or, I don't know, we'll both—"
"Skye?" he says.
"Yeah?" I look up from the spot my eyes have found in the center of his chest to see Ollie is grinning widely, silently laughing with his eyes.
"Stop talking."
And then he takes my cheeks in both hands and kisses me. His lips are soft, almost hesitant. This is unknown territory for us, an honest space we've never been before. And I kiss him back, just as gentle, just as slow, exploring this new sensation gathering beneath my skin. For the first time with Ollie, our kisses don’t feel desperate or urgent, they feel tantalizingly untouched by time.
And though I don't want to stop, my toes are growing a little numb and I'm so cold that it's getting hard to move my lips without feeling somewhat like a fish.
"Ollie," I whisper.
"Hmm," he sighs against my mouth.
"I'm not wearing shoes," I murmur and he breaks away, eyes wide as they focus on the ground. "And, I'm sort of not wearing a coat either."
Ollie just shakes his head, lifting the corner of his lip. "So this is what I signed up for?"
I shrug, biting back a smile. "Guess so."
And before I can move, Ollie sweeps me quite literally off my feet, lifting me effortlessly into his arms. And you know what? It's not too shabby of a place to be. I curl into his chest as he walks us back inside. I don't even protest when he makes no move to put me down as we make our way into the elevator. Because his chest is warm and his muscles are firm beneath me, and my hands are too busy tracing lines across his chest, up his neck, across his face. I can't concentrate on anything else.
He doesn't put me down until we're back in the warmth of the apartment. We don't speak. Ollie slips his coat to the ground, and then his lips are back on mine and I don't want to think about anything else.
But because I'm crazy, obviously that doesn't happen.
A nagging sensation paws at the back of my mind and I can't help but notice how precariously close his coat landed to a candle. It isn't long before visions of a fire fill my brain, and really, that's the last thing I want to be thinking about right now.
Ollie stops moving. "Skye?" he groans.
"I'm good, I'm good." I shake my head.
He pulls back, eyebrows raised. "What?"
I bite my lip. "Nothing, it’s just…" My eyes flick to the coat. He follows, expression growing more amused. "It's just, it's close to the flames and really the candles are a fire hazard and—"
Ollie puts his finger over my lips. "You're probably the only girl in the world who doesn’t find this romantic."
"I do," I mutter against his skin, voice muffled. "It's super romantic. It's just super dangerous too."
He shakes his head. "That's just part of why I love you."
And then he steps away, circling the room to blow out each and every candle in the space. The space grows darker around me until only a sliver of silvery light remains—moonlight trickling in from the window. Somehow, it seems even more romantic to me.
"Anything else on your mind?" he whispers, stepping closer.
I shake my head, pursing my lips.
"Are the rose petals a tripping hazard?"
"No," I murmur.
"Is the room too hot?"
"No…"
"Too cold?"
"No…"
"Are you at all hungry?"
And now I know he's just completely making fun of me. So I don't give him the satisfaction of a response. I just reach out, grab a fistful of his shirt, and tug. It's a pretty effective way of getting him to shut up, and I smile against his lips, knowing this is probably the first time of many that I'll use the move against him.
But really, we're both winners here.
And the longer the kiss lasts, the more my mind finally shuts off. The passion that's always burned between us is still there, but for the first time, I don’t feel swept away and out of control. I ride it. And all that does is make the fire beneath my skin flare hotter.
Ollie's lips slip from mine, kissing their way across my cheek, down my neck. His fingers trail the path of my spine, slipping lower and lower, pausing at my hips to hold me closer, and then sinking to the edge of my dress. Mine slip beneath the folds of his T-shirt, finding the smooth skin of his abdomen, tracing the contours of his muscles, enjoying the way they constrict as I feel my way up his chest.
Both of our breaths turn ragged. But we don't speed up, if anything we just move slower, enjoying the fact that we have all the time in the world. Our hands explore first, then our lips. Ollie sighs and whispers my name. His love is a physical force, washing over me, cocooning me. And I realize, I've spent my entire life waiting. I don't want to wait any longer.
He senses the change. An electric snap heats the air around us. Suddenly his hands grip my waist, lifting me, and my legs wrap around him. And we’re moving, but I don't break the kiss to see where. Because I know. And there's no part of my heart or my body that has the will or the desire to say no.
Okay, so…you probably already guessed it, but, well—eek!—I'm not a virgin anymore. And you know what? The wait was totally worth it. Definitely. Sigh. Ollie is all mine. Please excuse me while I go melt into a puddle on the floor…
Soft yellow light is just starting to seep through Ollie's window, casting a soft glow across the bed. I trace the lines of his chest, watching the shadow of my hand flutter over his skin, marveling at how our bodies mold together. We're like two puzzle pieces that had to get ripped apart before we could see how perfectly we fit together. I almost want to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming, but I know I'm not, because you know, you actually have to go to sleep to be dreaming.
And well, Ollie and I had better things to do than sleep.
Trust me.
"What are you thinking?" he whispers.
I glance up, finding his twinkling turquoise eyes, still a little unable to believe they’re shining for me. "Nothing."