“That sounds like a great plan to me, darling,” Mom says, taking my hand. Not wanting to be left out, Lottie takes my other one and squeezes. My smile then comes from the inside, up through my chest and across my face. I’m sure it touches every part of my body as an actual feeling rather than an action.
This is what happiness really feels like.
A waiter arrives at our table with a bottle of champagne and six crystal glasses. Denham flashes me a wink as he takes the bottle from the waiter. Skilfully twisting and letting the cork out with a soft pop, he pours the champagne into the glasses. Hehands me the first one and purposefully brushes my fingers with his, before making sure everyone else has a drink in hand.
“I’d like to propose a toast.” Denham clears his throat before proceeding “To Arianna, new beginnings and a happy future.”
Everyone agrees and we chink glasses, then Lottie announces, “To my bestie. Thank god I got you back. All my other friends suck!” Everyone bursts with laughter.
It feels weird. Good weird. It’s surreal to be here, drinking a toast to what’s to come with my nearest and dearest and new friends that look set to be part of my future. It’s a situation I never allowed myself to dream it could happen. For as long as I can remember, I’ve held very little hope for the happiness of my future until now.
I’m overwhelmed and I feel my eyes start to gloss over. For all of the days I’ve had that are worth forgetting, this is, without a doubt, one to remember. I wipe away the stray tear that is sliding down my cheek, and it triggers a hug response from the women either side of me. I’m squashed between them, their arms wrapped around me, and it’s the best feeling a girl could wish for.
“It’s just the beginning for you, Ari,” Lottie murmurs.
I nod in agreement. I hope so, I truly hope so.
I feel a foot against my leg under the table and look up to find a gentle smile from Denham. I lift my foot to tangle with his and he breaks into a sexy grin. I want to kiss him. I want to kiss his handsome face and tell him how happy he’s made me. I’m not even sure if words could explain how I feel about what he’s done for me, not just this evening, but for the small time I’ve been here. He’s healed some of the cracks. They may only be little cracks, but they’re healing nonetheless.
I realize I’ve been holding his gaze and the intensity of our exchange starts to pick up. Neither of us wants to look away, but it’s not appropriate for us to be looking at each other like this incompany. He breaks first, pulling his shoulders up and downing the last of his champagne.
“Who would like more drinks?” he asks.
My mom loosens her grip around me and places a hand on Brent’s knee. “That’s very kind of you, Mr. King, but we really should be going. Leave you kids to your evening.”
“Please, no formalities. Call me Denham.”
“Thank you, Denham,” Mom says with a genuine warmth in her voice. “It’s been a wonderful evening.”
“It’s been my pleasure. You’re welcome here anytime, both of you.” Denham dips his head toward both my mom and Brent, but I don’t miss the tightness in his smile when his eyes settle on Brent. The pissing contest is obviously not over yet. It’s touching that they both feel like they need to take care of me, but I need to learn to take care of myself first.
We say our goodbyes and, of course, there is a disagreement as to who will pay the bill—Brent or Denham. Both insisted, but Denham won. Brent only relented after insisting he return the favor sometime very soon, which I have no doubt that Denham will not allow him to do.
I’m reluctant to let them all go home, not being used to having them so close at hand, but knowing I can see any of them at any time is enough for me to be content with them leaving.
When we arrive back at the penthouse, Denham and I find ourselves in the same place as we were two nights ago. I’m backed into the door with Denham’s hands resting on my waist. I feel like a teenager on a first date, not knowing if the boy is going to kiss me or whether I should kiss him.
I should kiss him. I want to. I’ve wanted to all night.
It’s not like we haven’t shared kisses throughout the day, and we’ve both given them freely. Hell, we both shared a bed last night so kissing shouldn’t be awkward.
“Denham I—”
“Arianna—”
We’re both nervous for some strange reason and start to speak at the same time, halting each other in our tracks and breaking out into giggles.
“May I go first?” Denham asks. I nod. “Arianna, I know a lot of things have happened to you, and I know yesterday was hard for you. Hell, the last eight years of your life have been hard.” He pauses, seemingly trying to steer the direction onto a more positive path. “I’m just trying to say that I know you have things to work out, but I’ve had an awesome day today and I really want to do it again soon, but only if you want to. Don’t feel like you have to just because you’re staying here because our agreement still stands even if you don’t—”
“Denham …”
“Yes, Stunner?”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
I give him no time to think or answer as I close the distance between us. He meets me halfway, and our breath meets and mingles before he nudges my lip with his. I need no encouragement to open up to him. My tongue darts out to wet my lip and catches his at the same time. It elicits a deep groan from his chest as he covers my mouth with his. He kisses me with the fervor of a desperate man, and each time it’s like we’re kissing for the very first time, exploring each other like our lives depend on it and making every second count. I’m pressed tight against the hardwood door, his hands tangled in my hair and mine in his. His tongue sweeps the roof of my mouth and I think I’m going to melt.
This man can kiss.
