Bella and Marco crept back down the creaky attic stairs, their bodies still humming with the heat of what had just happened. The house was alive with laughter and chatter from the living room, where the rest of the family was gathered around the Christmas tree, piles of wrapping paper already scattered across the floor. Bella’s heart pounded as they slipped into the hallway, her cheeks flushed, her lips still tingling from his kisses. Marco stayed close behind her, his hand brushing against the small of her back, sending shivers up her spine even through the fabric of her dress.

“You good?” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, like he already knew the answer but wanted to hear it from her anyway.