Sleighed Into Her Cookie

His to take

ASPEN



I walked back into the pre-wedding reception on legs that absolutely did not feel like my own. They felt wrung out, like they’d been spending way too much time wrapped around Arsen’s waist in my imagination.

My lips were still swollen, my pulse still racing. And my thoughts? Completely trashed. If Grayson hadn’t popped out of thin air, I would’ve let his uncle f**k me right there in the cold without a single rational brain cell left to object.

Fantastic. A new personal low unlocked even for me.

I slapped both hands to my cheeks, trying to cool the heat before anyone noticed I looked like I’d just made out against the wall outside the venue. Spoiler alert, I had. And now my thighs keep remembering it.

Amid all that transpired between Arsen and me, I know the universe clearly hates me because right as I tried to gather some dignity, my mother’s voice found me.

“There you are! Do you have any idea how worried I was not seeing you the moment you stepped off the plane?” she squealed.

I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly saw my past mistakes waving back at me. “No ‘how was the flight, honey?’ No ‘are you holding up alright?’ Just her usual immediate interrogation,” I muttered under my breath and my mom didn't give me a second to gather my thoughts before she rambled on.

“Honestly, Aspen, how dare you not find me the second you arrive? What the hell am I supposed to think?”

“That I was fine,” I snapped. “At least until you forced me onto that plane and into this circus.” Mom blinks at me like I’d just told her Santa eats children. Then she scoffed.

“Oh, get over yourself,” she said, waving a dismissive hand. “So what if your boyfriend proposed to your cousin? It’s done. You need to move on and at least act like you’re not here to ruin Noelle’s big day.”

Her every word hit like a slap and my mouth fell open. For a second, breathing didn’t feel like a thing humans could do.

So what if - Proposed to my cousin— Move on? Suddenly, Grayson and Noelle’s betrayal didn’t hurt as much as my mom’s words.

I was still trying to process the emotional knife mom had casually lodged in my chest when her sister, my aunt, swooped in and gave me a single scornful look, and that was all I got before she turned to my mom and linked their arms and began chatting about floral arrangements like I wasn’t even there. A second later, Noelle joined them and they huddled together.

I stood alone. I was just the loser ex who apparently should “get over” being stabbed in the back.

The room suddenly felt small and full of people pretending they weren’t secretly rotten. I decide in that instant I need air. Or whiskey. Or both. But before I could escape, instinct dragged my gaze across the room.

Arsen stood near the restroom hallway with his hands shoved into his pockets and watching me like he could feel everything I felt. It made my chest tighten.

I should’ve looked away. But I couldn’t, not with the way his jaw flexed when our eyes locked. A slow, hungry pull that made my skin prickle. Like interrupting us earlier hadn’t changed a single thing. Like if he crooked a finger, I’d go to him.

I swallowed hard, my face burning with desire and a thousand emotions I didn’t have a manual for. I didn’t want to run away from this place. I wanted to run straight to him.

So I did just that.

The instant I took that first step toward him, Arsen’s lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile that made my knees week. He stretched out a hand, and the moment my fingers curled around his, I felt like I was crossing some invisible line I had been circling all day.

“You have no idea how badly I hoped you would change your mind,” he murmured, his voice low and it sent a shiver straight through me. His thumb traced the back of my hand like he was memorizing the feel of me, and God, I didn’t want to pull away.

He led me forward, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him, the scent of him wrapping around me. We passed the restroom hallway, but the moment he pushed open a door, I realized this wasn’t the way to a toilet. Rows of soft almost intoxicating flowers, and a mix of Christmas decorations filled the room.

Before I could register how impossibly beautiful it was, Arsen slammed my back against the wall. The sudden force made me gasp, and before my lungs could catch up, his lips claimed mine.

The kiss was no longer tentative. It was a fire and storm all at once. His hands slid up to cup my face, pressing me flush against him, and I didn’t resist. My fingers threaded into his coat, my body molding to his as the world outside — my ex, my mother, the wedding— ceased to exist.

Every thought fled, leaving only the heat of him, the intoxicating brush of his lips, and the undeniable pull that had been building since I first met him. I was his, if only for this moment, and I had no desire to escape.