Dairen studies the space as I close and lock the door behind him, crossing my arms over my chest and feeling nervous as he examines the pictures hanging on the wall. Most of them are me and Grandma Rose, but I’ve got some of my mom and I on various family vacations to beaches and amusement parks from when I was younger. And, of course, there’s a handful of images featuring Noah and I from the first year we met to present day. My apartment is a timeline of the most important memories I hold onto, and Daire seems to recognize that.
When his eyes swing around the open layout of my living room, dining room, and kitchen before turning back to me, there’s an arch to his brows. “This isn’t what I expected.”
I nibble my lip. “That’s because you assume everyone associated with your brother likes the same showy, expensive things that he does. I’ve always preferred a more casual style.”
His eyes trail to the writing on my shirt before smirking. “I can see that. What’s the job description for being Santa’s ho exactly? Because I know what you can do with those lips, and—”
My cheeks blast with heat as I cross my arms over the words sprawled across my chest. “It’s just a silly shirt I bought online that made me laugh.”
He chuckles. “I’m toying with you.”
I loosen a sigh. “What are you doing here anyway? I’m glad you and Noah talked, but I don’t think there’s anything left to say between u—”
“You were right,” he cuts me off. One of his hands goes to his pockets. “About Noah. About me. Him and I are a lot more alike than I like to admit. We’re stubborn and don’t like to admit when we’re being idiots.”
I make no attempt to disagree.
Daire walks over to the couch and sits, pulling his pantleg up to reveal an array of battered scars I hadn’t seen since they were fresh. My mind was otherwise occupied on other parts of him when we’d been naked together.
Walking over, I hesitantly sit beside him and stare at the healed wounds.
“No matter what, it’ll be his fault why I have these. I’ve got a steel rod in my leg, had a knee replacement, and four other surgeries from the accident to give me a shot at keeping my leg instead of having it amputated.”
My eyes widen. “That’s…wow.”
He hums. “Yeah. Wow.” Lowering his jeans back into place, he leans back on the couch and lifts an arm over the back cushion to rest it there. “I don’t mind where I’m at now. Took a while to see that. I’ll always miss playing and wondering what my life would be like if I hadn’t gotten hurt, but it gets me nowhere to live in the past.”
I nod in agreement, knowing from firsthand experience how draining it can be to hold onto things you can’t change.
Daire drags his tongue across his lips as he gives me a once over. “Look, I don’t like how we left things at the hotel. I used you to get back at Noah and it was fucked up, and you had your reasons to use me. And while I don’t regret it, I have the decency to feel a little bad that I put you in the position to feel like shit about something that you shouldn’t feel that way about. Especially when you didn’t trust me enough to tell me you were a virgin. How badly did I really hurt you?”
“I’m fine, Daire. It isn’t like we only did it that once unless the rest of that night was a dream. And let’s be honest, if it wasn’t you, it would have been somebody else. But it isn’t like anybody would has gone as far as you did. I’ve always turned them away, remember? It would hurt no matter who I decided to share my first time with.”
“But it shouldn’t have to.”
I give him a doubtful look.
“You asked me why I came,” he says, shifting his body toward me. “You were the first person I told when I realized I had to say goodbye to the NHL. You were the first girl who listened to me when I needed to vent and the first to stick with me in silence when I couldn’t find the words to express how I was taking it. I came here to thank you for helping me settle shit with Noah. To…” He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Him and I are never going to be best friends, not like you two. But we’re a lot better than we have been since the day I was taken to the hospital. That counts for something.”
“You don’t owe me anything for that.”
His eyebrows go up. “I beg to differ.”
My lips press together.
Daire’s long fingers reach out to brush hair out of my face, grazing my cheekbones with a small smile. “I was your first kiss. I took your virginity. I’m wondering what other first you’ll be willing to share with me.”
“Are you talking about…uh…”
He chuckles, clearly knowing where my mind is. “That too. But I’m talking about more. I want to be your first real boyfriend because I know you haven’t had one before. I want to be the first guy to take you on a proper date. I want you to come and watch me coach my high school hockey team. I want…a lot from you, Adelaide. More firsts.”
All I can do is stare at him. He wants all of that with me?
His smile is soft. “I want you to give me a shot. I know it’s not going to be easy because we live two different lives, but we can make it work. We can at least try. If the sex we already had is any indication, we’ve got the chemistry already. Let’s do something with it.”
I’m a little breathless when I study him to figure out if he’s being serious. When I see the growing bulge in his jeans that I stare a little too long at, I know he definitely wants something from me. “Does Noah know you’re here to proposition me?”
He snickers. “I may have said I wanted to see you and apologize for everything. He didn’t need to know the rest.”
We’re quiet for a moment.
Until I point out the obvious. “You live hours away from here. This seems…”
“Perfect.”
All I do is stare.
“You’re going to be busy with work, so am I. We meet up when we can on the weekends or whenever. We can call. Video chat. Whatever. That gives us space to live our own lives without disruption. I’ll come here. You can come to my place. It’s not a bad train ride. I think you’d like my house. It’s quiet there. The neighbors aren’t that close, which means you can scream as loud as you want while I’m fucking you.”
I slap my hand over his mouth, laughing at the mischievous glint in his eyes.
He leans forward, peeling my hand away, and brushes his lips along my jaw, then slowly down my neck until his tongue swipes along the skin. When I arch to give him more access, he asks, “What do you say? Date me, Addy?”
My fingers grip his shoulders, squeezing when his teeth nip above my pulse before moving to the sensitive spot just under my ear. “I-I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”
“That’s not a no.”
I close my eyes and relish in the feel of his lips on my skin as he convinces me with heated, peppered kisses. He’s meticulous. Methodical.
It’s impossible to tell him no.
Not when I’ve dreamed of him giving me this opportunity.
“Yes.”
He groans and pulls away, instantly weaving his fingers in my hair and pulling me forward until he captures my lips with a kiss. It’s heated and hungry and demanding and hot as he pries my lips open and tastes the sugar cookies I’d been munching on before he arrived.