But tonight wasn’t the night for unpacking generational trauma—hers or mine.
“First of all,” I said, nailing her with a pointed look, “it wasBelow Deck: Mediterranean.More importantly, you know that I’m a Salt Lake Cityfan.”
She laughed, just barely, and it hit me like a punch to the gut. “Does that mean you don’t have Carolina tonight?”
“We spent Christmas together, so she’s with her mom.”
My cock twitched when she nibbled her lower lip.Dangerous territory.That lip had been the beginning of the end for me more times than I cared to count.
“You could’ve at least brought a coat,” she said, voice quiet now.
“And you could’ve warned me you were dressed like that.”
I let my gaze drop just long enough to make her squirm. There it was again—that vulnerability that tugged at my chest and made me want to wrap my body around her like a shield and protect her from everything.
“Why did you come, Brooks?”
Finally, a question I knew the answer to.
“Because I missed you, kitten.”
There. I said it. The thing that had been weighing down my mind and heart since the second we’d called things off back in October. There was no point in pretending otherwise, not when my voice was tinged with yearning and my erection was tenting my pants.
The gravel crunched beneath my feet as I stepped toward her. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you. About us.”
She clung to the lapels of her coat, twisting the fabric between her fingers. Her eyes widened, as she was no doubt surprised by my raw honesty. That made two of us.
To say that I had never been much of a people person would be an understatement. I didn’t speak unless spoken to, didn’t share personal information unless it was pried out of me. Hell, I much preferred the company of my six-year-old daughter and her stuffed animals over people my own age most days of the week. But with Dani, the words came whether I wanted them to or not.
The silence between us stretched, thick and charged. I could feel it, the way she was trying to talk herself out of this. Out ofme.
So, I said what I needed to say.
“Because I didn’t want to start the new year wondering what would have happened if I’d come.”
She exhaled, shaky. “Brooks.”
My hand found her waist, fingers pressing into the curves I had spent hours committing to memory. Her breath hitched, but she didn’t pull away. If anything, she leaned in, like her heart had already made the decision her brain hadn’t caught up to yet.
“Did you kiss anybody at midnight?” I asked, voice rough.
“No,” she replied, barely above a whisper.
“Good answer, kitten.”
Thank fuck for that because the very thought of her kissing someone else—smiling against someone else’s lips while the clock struck twelve—was enough to make me see red. I was barely hanging on as it was.
With two fingers under her chin, I tilted her face up to mine. She came willingly, eyes locked on me. I was used to her looking up at me—she was nearly a foot shorter than my 6’2” frame—but this time, it felt like she wanted to.
“Five . . . four . . .”
Her hands fisted in the front of my shirt.
“Three . . .”
I lowered my head.
“Two . . .”
