Snowflake Wishes by Maggie McGinnis

kiss the top of her head. He knew it was an intimacy reserved for somebody who was planning to stay, but he couldn’t help himself.
    When he let go, her eyes looked surprised at the affectionate move, but he could swear he saw a tiny smile poking at the corners of her lips. As she picked up her cards, he did the same, for the first time feeling a glimmer of hope.
    Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance he could break back through her walls.
    *   *   *
    â€œI’m not sure I want to admit this quite yet, but being snowed in at a run-down little diner in East Nowhere, Vermont, is actually kind of … fun.” Piper smiled at Noah across their booth, where they’d returned after she’d raked in three whole dollars in the poker game. She piled the pennies on the table, hoping Darla would let her trade them in for paper bills in the morning.
    Everyone had spread out into booths and corners, bound for a restless night of pseudo-sleep. It was almost midnight, and the storm was still in full roar, but they were tucked up in a warm diner with plenty of food, so in reality, it was as cozy as could be.
    It felt so natural being here with Noah, which had her waffling between feelings of comfort … and panic. In the car earlier, she’d tried to turn off her self-protection instincts and just go with the flow for the day, and it had worked beautifully. They’d laughed, they’d joked, and they’d reconnected in a just-friends sort of way that had her feeling all squishy inside.
    But when he touched her hand, or hugged her shoulders, or kissed her forehead, the just-friends feelings were quickly replaced by visions of sneaking out to the truck, or out to the back deck of the diner, or anywhere where they could be alone. Every time she looked at his lips, she could feel them on hers. She could feel them … everywhere, and the memories of hot days and hotter nights were assaulting her in a way that left her feeling all jittery and exposed.
    And now it was dark, the diner lights were turned way down low, and the last thing she wanted to do was sleep.
    She suspected she wasn’t the only one.
    â€œNoah? Want to go outside, maybe?”
    He looked up. “Right now?”
    â€œYeah.” She shrugged, pointing at the window, where the parking lot lanterns lit swirls of snow. “It’s slowing down a little.”
    â€œFeeling squirrelly, Pipes?” He smiled.
    She shrugged again. Squirrelly was an innocent way to put it. “I’m just not ready to sleep. And it’s beautiful out there. You can make the first tracks.”
    â€œOkay, but for the record, I think you’re nuts. It’s freezing.” He shrugged on his jacket, zipping it as he slid out of the booth. Then he held hers while she slid her arms into it and tried not to lean back against him like she used to do.
    He pushed open the front door as quietly as he could, holding it so she could follow him, and when they came out from under the awning, they both stopped and looked up at the same time. The flakes were huge, and Piper closed her eyes and remembered her mother dragging her out into a storm just like this when she was little.
    Look up, she’d said. Then close your eyes and wait for the angel kisses.
    â€œThinking about your mom?” Noah’s voice was gentle as he came up behind her and slid his arms around her waist, like he’d never stopped doing so. She leaned back against him, like she’d been doing it all along.
    â€œHow did you know?”
    â€œBecause you used to cry when it snowed. One day, you finally told me why.”
    She nodded, leaning her head back against his chest. “It was one of the rare things that made her happy.”
    â€œHey.” He spoke gently, reaching toward the railing to scoop a handful of snow. “When’s the last time you made a snowflake wish?”
    â€œIt’s been a long time.”
    Seven