“For the record, so can I.”
A ton of chaos seemed to take over the TV, and we looked to see Miley Cyrus commanding the stage in Times Square.
“It’s almost eleven. Past my bedtime,” Wren said, presumably looking for an out.
Me, being one never to fall for an out, especially when all the feelings were right there, said, “I’m going to kiss you, okay?”
Wren took a beat and nodded, and that was all I needed before my mouth crashed into hers. My body swiveled on its own and my palm came to her cheek and my lips knew exactly what to do.
Fuck my knee; it was fine.
Wren
We were kissing, my body melding into Daniel’s a tad bit more with every stroke of his tongue. It had been a while, in general, and two decades since I’d made out with the man of the hour. I blamed the former for how quickly my body was igniting.
Daniel’s hand slid up my arm, caressing my cheek, and back down again. My eyes were closed, allowing me to feel every sensation in its entirety.
We were making up for years lost, saying hello as adults and remembering our younger selves without any words. Until Daniel ran a thumb along my waist, making contact with the sliver of skin in between my jeans and top. Chills broke out along my spine and my breathing picked up pace.
Daniel broke free from the kiss and mumbled along my lips, “Dare I ask—do your panties say the day of the week?”
As he referenced the embarrassing moment in college, a wave of nostalgia came over me. We’d chuckled together back then, Daniel refusing to let me feel silly for one second. Now, with my forehead leaning into his, I laughed. At first it was hesitant and soft and then it became more of a giggle.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I teased.
“Oh, I would, but not quite yet. I’ve matured, and one thing I’ve learned as an adult is that the best is worth waiting for.”
“Hmm. Either that, or blow your knee out skiing.”
“Hey, I’m not too old to do any of that. Skiing, water or snow…”
“Oh, you’re a Peter Pan type?”
We were still snuggled on the couch, forehead to forehead, when Daniel tickled my side. “No Peter Pan complex. Just keeping my body young and spry. I’ll be back to skiing…”
“Good for me. Skiing pays a lot of the bills, especially when it comes to smug guys like you.” He served me another tickle, and this time I couldn’t help but jump up.
“Look, I can’t say no to Hollywood royalty. My reputation is always on the line.”
“I hear you, tough guy,” I said, lifting Rourke up. “I’m going to give the little man a potty break.” I glanced outside at the snowflakes falling against the dark sky.
Daniel’s gaze followed, and he asked, “Do you want me to come?”
I shook my head. “Make yourself at home. He won’t take long. Despite living in Boston all his life, Rourke is a warm-weather boy.”
I moved toward the kitchen and slipped out the back door after nabbing my coat off the hook.
I set Rourke on the small back porch and said, “Time to do your business, baby boy.” He looked at me like,Who you calling baby?
As he scampered down the steps and over to his favorite tree and lifted his leg, I wondered what the hell I was doing. Maybe that was what Rourke was thinking. We had a good life, wanted for nothing—I had a vibrator—and I was a successful woman among men. I didn’t need a man. Certainly not the one in my house, who had reappeared after a million years.
Yet as I made my way back into the house, Rourke leading the way, I found Daniel in my kitchen, setting a pot on the stove. “Hungry still?”
His deep laugh filled the air. “No, we ordered enough food. I’m making us something to toast the new year.”
Looking at my watch, I noted it was a quarter to twelve.
Of course Rourke, never one to be left out of the fun, shook his fur off and walked over to Daniel.
