I brush my thumb along her jaw slowly. “Probably because you brought me into your childhood bedroom.”
She laughs quietly. I lean down, pressing one last kiss against the corner of her mouth before forcing myself to step back.
“Now,” I murmur, dragging my eyes over her flushed face, “let’s go downstairs before I do something deeply inappropriate in front of your old One Direction posters.”
She gasps dramatically. “You leave Harry Styles out of this.”
I grin despite myself before grabbing our bags from beside the door and dropping them onto the bed.
“I have to admit something,” Alec says, setting a fresh pint down in front of me. I glance up from the table. “I was worried about you coming here.”
The pub around us hums with quiet life. Glasses clink somewhere behind the bar, football plays silently on the television above us, and a group of older men laugh loudly over a game of darts in the corner.
It feels . . . easy here.
Like people leave their problems outside and come together to relax and unwind. It’s nothing like the bars in London.
I take a sip of my drink before answering honestly. “I was nervous about coming.”
Alec studies me for a long moment over the rim of his glass. And despite every instinct telling me to retreat beneath the scrutiny, I don’t look away. Eventually, a small smile tugs at his mouth.
“You won Lucy over.”
I almost choke on my beer. “Did I?”
He chuckles quietly. “She’d deny it if asked directly, but yes.” He leans back in his chair slightly. “I think seeing you and Wynter together changed something for her.”
Relief settles somewhere deep in my chest. “I’m glad.”
“And if Lucy approves,” Alec continues calmly, “then so do I.”
The sincerity in it catches me off guard. I glance down briefly at my glass before admitting, “Me and Wynter . . .” I pause, searching for the right wording. “We haven’t really put a label on anything yet.”
Because despite everything between us lately, I still don’t fully know what we are, and I’m terrified to ask her in case it pushes her before she’s ready.
And I don’t want him thinking I’m making promises to his daughter that she hasn’t agreed to herself.
Alec scoffs immediately. “You kids are obsessed with labels these days.”
I laugh quietly into my drink.Kids.Christ. Nobody’s called me that in years. “You like her though, right?” he asks.
I don’t even hesitate. “Very much.”
“And she likes you.”
Something softens in my chest at the certainty in his voice. “I think she does,” I admit.
Alec snorts. “Trust me, son. She does.”
Warmth creeps unexpectedly at that word again. Before I can respond, movement catches my eye and Wynter appears beside the table carrying another round of drinks, her cheeks pink from the cold outside.
The second she slides into the seat beside me, something in me settles automatically. Like my body recognises her before my brain does. I drape an arm across the back of her chair instinctively, my thumb brushing absently against her shoulder. She leans into the touch without even thinking. And Christ. That tiny unconscious movement nearly destroys me.
“I hope you’re being nice,” she says suspiciously.
“I was just asking Ray what his intentions are towards my only daughter,” Alec replies casually.
Wynter’s eyes widen in horror. “Oh my god, Dad.”
