Page 15

CHAPTER 15

NATE

The truck’s engine purrs to life as I turn the key, and beside me, Caspian is practically vibrating with energy. Even in the dim glow of the dashboard lights, I can see his eyes sparkling as he talks animatedly about the party.

“Your family is incredible, Nate. I mean, Catherine’s baking skills alone are legendary, but the way she transformed that dining room into a unicorn paradise? Pure magic.” He turns in his seat to face me better, and I have to force myself to keep my eyes on the road. “And Lottie! She’s absolutely precious. The way she was so serious about the wish rules… I couldn’t handle it.”

A smile tugs at my lips, both at his enthusiasm and the memory. “She takes her wishes very seriously. Last year, she wouldn’t even tell my brother what she wished for until after her next birthday, just to be absolutely certain it wouldn’t jinx anything.”

“Smart kid.” Caspian laughs, and the sound does something warm and dangerous to my chest. “Though I have to say, the dinosaur-unicorn crossover story she came up with was pretty inspired. Maybe she’ll be a writer like Felix.”

Instead of taking the turn that would lead us toward our neighborhood, I make a left, heading downtown. Caspian notices immediately.

“Um, Nate? Pretty sure we live in the opposite direction,” he says, though he doesn’t sound concerned, just curious.

“We need to make a stop first,” I reply, trying to keep my voice casual even as my heart hammers against my ribs. “If that’s okay?”

He settles back in his seat, a small smile playing on his lips. “Mysterious detour? I’m intrigued.”

The snow has started falling again, fat flakes drifting lazily through the glow of the streetlights. The city park is mostly deserted because of the snowfall, exactly what I’d hoped for. I park the truck and turn to Caspian, who’s watching me with raised eyebrows.

“Trust me?” I ask, and my voice comes out rougher than I intended.

“Against my better judgment,” he teases, but he’s already reaching for his door handle.

The cold hits us as we step out of the truck, and I watch Caspian pull his coat tighter around himself. The snow crunches beneath our boots as we make our way across the park, past the darkened windows of Special Blend. Caspian’s eyes widen as he realizes where we’re heading.

“The Wishing Tree?” he asks softly, and something in his voice makes me pause.

“Felix mentioned it to you, didn’t he?” I smile at his surprised look. “I overheard him at the party, and from your expression, it seemed you were curious about it. I know you’ve been busy with Special Blend and might not have noticed it’s already accepting wishes.”

The majestic fir tree dominates this corner of the city park near the gazebo, its evergreen branches adorned with thousands of twinkling lights. Planted generations ago, it has become the heart of Maplewood’s festivals, but none more so than during the Winter Wishes Festival. Now, its strong limbs bear not just snow but hundreds of delicate ornamental balls, each containing someone’s written hope or dream, swaying gently in the winter breeze.

I lead him closer. “It’s a tradition in our town. During the Winter Wishes Festival, people hang their wishes on the tree. Some say they come true if you believe hard enough.”

Caspian’s eyes are fixed on the dancing lights, his face soft with wonder. “Do you believe that?”

“I…don’t,” I admit, leading him to the small booth where an elderly woman is bundled against the cold. “But I respect that others do.” I gesture to Mrs. Hamilton, who’s been staffing the Wishing Tree booth for as long as I can remember. “One wishing kit, please.”

Mrs. Hamilton’s eyes twinkle as she hands me a kit—a piece of paper, a pen, and a delicate decorative ball that splits in half to hold the written wish. “May your wishes be true to your heart,” she says, and while I admire her sentiment, I am living proof that wishing for something doesn’t make it happen.

Caspian’s fingers brush mine as he takes the paper and pen, and there’s a moment where neither of us moves, just standing in the gentle snowfall, surrounded by the quiet magic of the scene.

“So,” he says finally, his breath visible in the cold air, “do I say it aloud, or is this another ‘don’t tell or it won’t come true’ situation?”

I find myself stepping closer, drawn to him like a magnet. “That depends on what you’re wishing for.”

His eyes meet mine, and the intensity I find there makes my breath catch. “What if what I want to wish for goes against everything we agreed on?”

My heart is pounding so hard I wonder if he can hear it. The words I want to say—that being careful is killing me, that I want to throw our responsible agreement out the window—catch in my throat. Instead, I watch snowflakes catch in his dark lashes, aching with everything left unsaid.

He’s close enough now that I can feel the warmth radiating from his body, see the way his breath quickens. The piece of paper trembles slightly in his hand as he starts to write, angling his body so I can’t see the words. When he’s done, he folds it carefully and tucks it into the ornamental ball.

“Are you sure you don’t want to make a wish?” he asks softly, holding out the pen.

I shake my head, gently refusing. “I’m not much for wishes anymore. They don’t really work out for me.”

I watch as he hangs his wish on a lower branch of the tree, the sphere gently swaying in the winter breeze. In the twinkling lights, I can see Caspian’s cheeks are flushed, whether from the cold or something else, I’m not sure.

The tension between us crackles like the static in the winter air. For a moment, I’m tempted to reach up and grab the ornament and read what he wished for, even though I have a feeling I already know. Instead, I shove my hands deep into my pockets.

“We should get back to the truck,” I say, my voice hoarse. “It’s getting colder.”

Caspian nods, but he doesn’t move right away. He’s still staring at his wish, swaying gently among all the others. Finally, he turns to me with a soft smile that makes my chest ache.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” he says. “I’ve been so busy I’ve only looked at the tree from afar.”

We walk back to the truck in companionable silence, our shoulders brushing occasionally. The snow is falling harder now, creating a dreamlike atmosphere that makes everything feel slightly surreal. Once inside, I crank up the heat, watching as Caspian rubs his gloved hands together.

“Better?” I ask, and he nods, though I notice he’s shivering slightly.

The drive home seems both too long and too short. Caspian is quieter now, lost in thought, and I find myself stealing glances at his profile, illuminated by passing streetlights. When we pull up in the driveway, we climb out into the softly falling snow. Our footsteps crunch in sync as we walk up the path together, stopping in that familiar space between our front doors.

“Do you want to know what I wished for?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

I reach out, brushing a snowflake from his cheek with my thumb. “I thought that was against the rules?”

His smile is soft and a little dangerous. “Maybe some rules are meant to be broken.”

Before I can second-guess myself, I step closer, eliminating the careful distance we’ve been maintaining. “If you break the rules about the wish,” I murmur, letting my hand slide from his cheek to cup the back of his neck, “what other rules might we break?”

Caspian’s breath hitches, his eyes darkening as they drop to my lips. “I wished,” he says softly, leaning into my touch, “that you would stop being so damn responsible.”

A laugh bubbles in my chest, part relief and part anticipation. “Careful what you wish for,” I warn, but I’m already pulling him closer, my other hand finding his waist.

“I’m really not feeling careful right now,” he breathes, and then his mouth is on mine.

The first brush of his lips is gentle, almost hesitant, like he’s giving me a chance to pull away. But I’m done with hesitation, done with being responsible. I deepen the kiss, drawing a soft sound from him that makes my blood sing. His hands come up to fist in my jacket, pulling me closer as he parts his lips beneath mine.

Snow continues to fall around us, but I barely notice the cold. Caspian is warm and solid against me, his mouth hot and eager as he kisses me back with an intensity that makes my head spin. I slide my hand into his hair, reveling in its softness, using my grip to tilt his head for a better angle.

He makes another one of those intoxicating sounds, somewhere between a gasp and a moan, and I feel it reverberate through my entire body. His tongue traces my bottom lip, and any remaining thoughts of being careful evaporate like steam.

When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing heavily. Caspian’s lips are slightly swollen, his cheeks flushed, and snowflakes are caught in his dark hair. He looks thoroughly kissed and absolutely beautiful.

“Well,” he says, a bit breathlessly, “I guess wishes do come true.”

I laugh, touching my forehead to his. “Maybe I was wrong about the Wishing Tree after all.”

He hums contentedly, pressing closer. “Or maybe some things are worth breaking the rules for.”

I can’t argue with that logic, especially not when he’s looking at me like this, snowflakes melting on his eyelashes and his lips still pink from our kiss. “We should probably go inside,” I suggest, though I make no move to release him. “Before we freeze.”

“Probably,” he agrees, but instead of stepping back, he rises up slightly to press another soft kiss to my lips. “Though I’m feeling pretty warm right now.”

I groan softly, tightening my grip on his waist. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”

“Says the man who drove me to the Wishing Tree on a snowy evening,” he teases, finally pulling back just enough to meet my eyes. “No more being responsible?”

“Maybe we can find a balance,” I suggest, stealing one last quick kiss before reluctantly letting him go. “Between responsible and reckless.”

As we part ways to our respective doors, the snow falling gently around us, I catch him looking back at me with a smile that makes my heart skip. Maybe there’s something to this wishing business after all.