He’d settled on a stool, one ass cheek on, one off, and cocked his head. “You look beautiful.”
“Daniel,” I whispered, “what are you doing?” I leaned my hip into the counter and stared at him. “What I mean is this has been an awkward reunion, and I’m not sure what you think will happen.”
He ran a hand through his hair and I noted it was long around the ears, likely from being detained in Boston with surgery and physical therapy.
“Let’s have a drink first? Before we dive into sentiments, yeah? It is New Year’s, too.”
“What would you like?” I asked without pushing for an answer, knowing he’d get his way anyway.
“Scotch?”
I moved toward the cabinet above the counter, next to the window, and opened the door, revealing my liquor stash. I grabbed a bottle of Lagavulin and walked with it to the cabinet with frosted glass on the outside, pulling out a lowball. “Off your pain meds, I assume?” I turned and asked before pouring.
“I don’t take that shite,” he stated.
It felt like I had to ask even though I knew he’d refused any pain meds during physical therapy.
I couldn’t help my laugh. “I see you still carry a little Scottish charm with you.”
“Can’t be helped.”
I poured him a few fingers straight up, knowing he wouldn’t water anything down, and handed it over.
“And you? Want me to open the champagne?” Of course he had to go and be a gentleman.
“I can. You’re the guest.”
I’d passed Daniel the tumbler and turned to grab a glass for myself.
“This okay?” he asked me, ignoring my offer to open the bottle, holding it up for me to see.
“Perfect,” I responded without even knowing what it was—I’d take any kind of bubbly to temper my anxiety.
He popped the cork, and I grabbed a glass. And before I knew it we were both seated with our drinks. And it was time to have a talk of sorts.
I decided to get right to it. “Now, are you going to tell me what you’re doing, chasing after me, after a million and one years? Seriously, it’s been decades. You went on to have your life, and I’m living mine.”
I watched him swallow, his eyes softening. “Honestly, I don’t know…other than I’ve been thinking about you a lot recently. Truth is, several of my friends have found love later in life, and here I am…living like a dumb-ass bachelor. You have been the only person I ever cared for. Sappy, yeah?”
He lifted his voice at the end as if he was asking me, and so I said, “Maybe a little?”
“When I got hurt, I took it as a sign to reconnect.”
“We could have reconnected any time, you know?” I couldn’t help it; the words slipped out of my mouth.
He took a swig of his scotch. “True. The thing is, we were kids when all that went down, and it was embarrassing. You were such a force, and I was being bossed around by my dad.”
“I wasn’t a force, more like a robot…”
Daniel stood, abandoning his drink, and strode toward me, Rourke trailing his feet. He came close, putting an arm on either side of me, bracing on the counter. “I was the robot. No more negative self-talk from you…” He started to lean in closer. He appeared to be breathing me in…
“Daniel, you’re my patient…”
“Was.” One word was all he gave before continuing to inhale me.
Unsure of what to do, I swallowed my pride and allowed him a beat to finish.
“I’m not going to try anything. I just can’t believe it’s you and I’m here. That you’re in front of me.” His hand lifted and hovered near my hair. “May I?” he asked, his voice unwavering and gaze wholly focused on me.
