He dried his hands on a dish towel and leaned against the counter, letting the quiet settle in.
It was strange how peaceful it felt here. He hadn’t been home since the night he’d left Ali at Bellamy Memorial Hospital, and yet the house welcomed him like no time had passed. His sister and her family were also in town, visiting for a few days, so driving over after the fundraiser had just felt… natural. Right. The rhythm of family life picked up without missing a beat— the familiar chaos, the playful teasing, the long-running joke about how he still liked his dinner rolls drowned in butter, just like when he was six.
It should’ve felt like slipping back into something simple.
But his mind kept drifting.
To Ali.
To her flushed cheeks. That nervous lip bite. The texts she sent, the ones she almost sent, the ones she deleted and retyped. And the ones that made his entire body lock up in anticipation.
“About my mouth.”
He let out a slow breath, jaw tightening slightly as the words replayed like a whisper against his skin.
He wanted her.
Not just physically— though god did he feel that, too. But more than that, he wanted to know what it looked like when she letgo. When she trusted him with more than her body. When she didn’t back off.
He could still see her pacing her bedroom floor, phone in hand. He didn’t have to be there to picture it. He knew her. That quiet panic she had when her feelings got big. The way she second-guessed herself even when she already knew what she wanted.
But she’d hit send anyway.
That mattered.
He ran a hand through his hair and looked around the kitchen. Same linoleum floor. Same humming fridge. Same old-school salt and pepper shakers shaped like lighthouses his mama bought at Tybee one summer.
And yet everything felt different.
Because this time, he wasn’t the same either.
Ten years ago, he let too much go unsaid. Let fear and family and unfinished sentences get in the way of something real.
But this time?
He wouldn’t.
A creak on the stairs pulled him from his thoughts.
Daisy’s voice followed. “Kids are down. Let’s play, old man.”
He pushed off the counter with a smirk. “Deal the cards, little sis.”
But even as he followed her into the den, his mind was still somewhere else.
Half in the past. Half on her lips. And all the way gone.
“You’re going down,” Daisy said with a smirk. Her dark hair was up in a loose bun, and she wore an old Sharks hoodie over sleep shorts. “I’ve been practicing with tiny humans all year. I’m ruthless now.”
He grinned, dropping into the chair across from her. “Bring it on, punk.”
Daisy let out a surprised laugh, tossing a yellow card on the pile. “And also, don’t think I didn’t notice you dodging the baby monitor earlier. Afraid of bedtime meltdowns?”
He held up his hands. “I know better than to get in the way of your kids' wind-down playlist and a melatonin gummy.”
They played in easy silence for a few rounds. Comfortable. Familiar. Like nothing had ever gone wrong between them. Like college hadn’t happened. Like Ali—
He shifted in his seat.
