She held my gaze, her lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, I thought she might turn and walk away. But then her lips quirked into a small, reluctant smile.
“You’re an i***t,” she said, echoing her earlier words, but this time her tone was softer.
“I know,” I murmured, my lips tugging into a smile of my own.
She rolled her eyes but didn’t move away. That’s when I noticed it—the mistletoe hanging just above us.
Blake howled in my head. ***Now. Kiss her. Mate her. Mark her.***
*Calm down, Blake,* I snapped back. *We’re not rushing this.*
But I couldn’t deny the pull, the way every fiber of my being screamed at me to close the distance between us. Amber noticed my gaze flick upward and followed it, her cheeks turning a soft pink when she spotted the mistletoe.
