Page 48

Fox:

Snow’s a mess out here. Been on the road two hours already and I’m not even close. Going to grab a motel and drive up first thing in the morning. Tell everyone I’m sorry.

His reply comes within a minute.

Nikko:

Okay, big bro. Be safe and see you tomorrow.

The cars ahead of me start moving again. I inch forward.

Twenty minutes later, the traffic clears—it was a jackknifed truck, blocking one lane, being slowly winched back into position by a tow truck—and I’m free.

I take the exit that leads to Winterberry.

It’s almost midnight when I park in the semi-hidden spot my car has taken up the past two weeks on the street behind Finn’s apartment.

I get out, grab my overnight bag from the back seat, and then, because I can’t help myself, I dig through the front pocket of the bag until I find the sprig of mistletoe.

I go up the stairs and take a steadying breath before I knock.

There’s a pause and then footsteps before the door opens.

Finn is in sweatpants and a threadbare T-shirt. His hair is standing up on one side. He was clearly already in bed. He blinks at me.

“Fox?”

I hold up the mistletoe.

He lets out a small sound that isn’t quite a laugh as he steps back and lets me in without saying anything.

I drop my bag inside the door and kick it closed.

He looks at me for a long second, then he takes the mistletoe out of my hand, tosses it onto the side table, grabs the front of my coat, and pulls me toward him.

The kiss is not gentle. I had every intention of coming here tonight and claiming Finn. Show him with my lips and tongue what I can’t say aloud. Instead, I’m the one being claimed.

Finn’s hands go into my hair. I shrug off my coat and then find myself against the wall.

“Bedroom,” he mutters against my mouth. “Now.”

I don’t need telling twice.

He walks me backward through the apartment, both of us fumbling out of layers we don’t need.

By the time we hit the bedroom doorway, I have his hands pinned above his head against the frame, and he’s biting my bottom lip hard enough to break skin.

We fall onto the bed in a tangle. He’s under me, then over me, then under me again. We’ve woken up to each other for two whole weeks, so I’d have thought we got this out of our systems.

Not in the slightest.

The two of us are trying to eat each other alive because tomorrow morning, I have to walk into his family’s kitchen and pretend I don’t know exactly what sound he makes when I bite the inside of his thigh. Neither of us wants to think about that yet.

I get Finn’s sweatpants off. He gets my underwear out of the way. He turns me onto my belly and runs his hands down my back until they rest on my ass, opening me.

The next thing I feel is his warm, wet tongue working me open. I close my eyes and bite the pillow. My dick is so fucking hard, but I can’t move right now. I don’t want him to stop.

The bedside drawer opens, and moments later, I hear the cap of the lube bottle opening. Finn’s fingers are inside me before I fully register asking for it.