CHAPTER 12—DAMIAN
***
Alessandro: Man, I have news. Good news. Happy News. Call me Daddy Sandro x2.
Damian: I'm not calling you Daddy. Ever. Congrats!
THE BAR'S NOISE IS a dull roar in the background, but all I can focus on is the way Maddie's shoulder brushes against mine. It's like her presence is grounding me, pulling me out of the chaos in my head. She looked lost earlier, and seeing her like that twisted something deep inside me—something I'd rather keep buried. But now, she's here, focused, and it feels like the world's aligned just for a moment. I should be keeping my distance, but instead, I'm leaning in closer, like I'm afraid she might slip away again.
"A little non-Christmas question..." Jevonte's voice cuts through the din.
A collective groan ripples through the crowd. I straighten up, my body tensing slightly. This is my time to shine.
"Who said 'I remember everything' in Dawson's Creek?"
The answer slams into me like a linebacker. Mom and I, sprawled on her beat-up couch, binge-watching Dawson's Creek when I first moved in. I'd snuck out after bedtime, half-expecting to get my ass handed to me. Instead, she'd just smiled and said, "Can't sleep? Let's watch one more. This is your home now, kid. You're safe here."
I'd loved that show. It was my first taste of normal kid stuff, even if it was through a TV screen. I may have been too young to understand some of it, but knowing she wasn't kicking me out right here and there and then told me she trusted me to go back to sleep? It was everything.
I glance at Mom's table. She catches my eye, giving me a small nod. We'd hashed out the interview mess over coffee this morning. I can see the worry lines around her eyes, no matter how hard she's trying to hide them.
"Pacey!" Maddie and I blurt out together.
Her grin is electric, lighting up something in my chest I thought I'd switched off years ago.
"Another point for the Sparkling Team," Jevonte announces. Because of course, we're the sparkling team.
"Ready for more Christmas trivia?" Maddie whispers, leaning into me.
"Definitely," I say, my arm finding its way to the back of her chair.
Jevonte cranks up the Christmas tunes, and I swear my molars start grinding on their own. But then Maddie's enthusiasm rolls over me like a warm wave, her eyes lit up brighter than any Christmas tree. And I feel something in my chest loosen up a bit. This holiday season might not be a total disaster after all.
"Three of Santa's reindeer's names begin with the letter 'D.' What are those names?"
"Dick," I mutter to hear Maddie laugh.
"Nope," she grins, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
"Dickhead? Dickdeer? Deerdick?" I'm pulling words out of my ass now.
Maddie rolls her eyes before answering, "Dancer, Dasher, and Donner."
"And the Sparkling Team scores again!"
More groans from the crowd. Aunt Locelli looks ready to flip the table.
"What Swans Cove Christmas tradition started in 1989?"
"The Gingerbread Ice Cream," Maddie, Aunt Locelli, and I chorus.
I can't help but be impressed. "How the hell did you know that?"
Maddie shrugs, a smug little smile playing on her lips. "I work for the Swans Cove Gazette. I know things," she whispers.
And that makes her even hotter.
After ten more questions, we crush the trivia. Jevonte hands us the prize—a Swan sculpture with a Santa hat slapped on top. Tacky as hell, just like every other Christmas decoration in this town. But Maddie's grinning like she's just won a Pulitzer. Jevonte's all smiles, too, like he's proud of his handiwork. That's Jevonte for you—always finding a way to turn even the most ridiculous thing into something that makes everyone happy.
"Could've used you both at the Chamber of Commerce tournament," Jevonte says. "We won, but it was close. You guys dominated."
Maddie's smile hits me right in the gut. As our fingers brush, reaching for the statue at the same time, the damn thing slips and hits the floor with a thud. Shit.
"I'm so sorry," Maddie blurts out, her eyes wide.
Jevonte raises an eyebrow. "It's not broken. Only chipped. Even if it was, sometimes glue really works. Don't ask me how I know."
He heads back to Aunt Locelli's, my mom's and Paul's table with the second prize. Aunt Locelli glares at us, but there's a hint of a smile there too. Weird.
As the trivia high fades, reality comes crashing back like a hangover. The shit with my parents resurfaces, sitting in my gut like a lead weight. I should tell Maddie, but the words are stuck somewhere between my brain and my mouth, refusing to budge.
"Okay... So, I'm going to go back..." Maddie trails off, like she's avoiding the word 'home'. "Well, after I finish this food. These crab cake poppers are absolutely delicious."
"Before you go, I need to explain about yesterday."
Maddie nods, her fork hovering midair. I can see the worry in her eyes, like she's bracing for me to bolt.
"Eat, Mads. I'm not going anywhere." My voice comes out gruffer than I intended.
"Bossy," she mutters, but takes a bite. Her eyes meet mine, a hint of mischief there. "Just like on Halloween."
The memory hits me like a shot of Gentleman's Jack - hot and burning. Maddie against the washing machine, my voice rough as I ordered her not to move. The way she shivered when I growled "good girl" against her skin.
"You liked bossy then," I rumble, leaning in just enough that I can see the way her pulse jumps at her throat.
Her cheeks flush, and damn if that doesn't do things to me. "I did," she whispers, her voice softer now, like she's remembering more than she's willing to say. I should pull back, give her space, but instead, I'm leaning in closer, like I'm daring her to admit how much she liked it—how much she still does.
I force myself to focus, shifting in my seat. "Yesterday wasn't about you," I manage. "It's my parents."
Her playful expression vanishes, replaced by concern. "What happened?"
"They gave an interview. Acting like fucking saints, talking about reconnecting with their 'lost boy.' Imani sent me a preview, but they actually emailed me, wanting to reconnect." The words taste bitter, but there's a darker thought creeping in, something I can't shake. If they're willing to lie so easily to the public, what's stopping them from trying to worm their way back into my life? I've got a bad feeling this isn't the last I'll hear from them. And when the other shoe drops, I'll need to be ready. But right now, all I want to do is keep Maddie out of the fallout.
Maddie's hand twitches, like she wants to reach out but isn't sure if she should. "Have you talked to them?"
"No." My jaw clenches so hard it aches. "I didn't even reply to them. They never tried to contact me before. Now they're spinning this bullshit story, and no one's calling them out. No one gives a shit about the kid they tossed aside."
"I do," Maddie says softly, her eyes meeting mine.
The simple words hit me like a freight train, cracking something open in my chest. For a moment, I can't speak past the lump in my throat.
Maddie sits there, not trying to feed me any bullshit about how I'm better off now or how I found my real mom. The one who actually gives a damn. Who's been there through all the shit life's thrown at me. She listens, and somehow that's exactly what I need.
I take a deep breath. "There's more." But before I can continue, Aunt Locelli's heading our way, her cane clicking against the floor like a countdown.
"Congrats to the winners!" Her smile's tighter than my abs after a workout. "I mean, I always win this trivia. But... I guess one time. One year. It'll be okay. I'll be okay." She pauses, her eyes darting between us. "Also, Damian. Your friend Kellan is apparently at the Irish pub—the rumor has it, he's in need of a ride." She loud whispers, "But you didn't hear it from me."
My body tenses. Kellan. At the pub. Needing a ride. This isn't good.
"Thanks," I grunt, already on my feet. Kellan's been sober for years. If he's at the pub...
I turn to Maddie, conflict churning in my gut. I don't want to leave her, but Kellan...
She must see it in my eyes because she nods. "Go. Your friend needs you."
I remember Kellan after our last tour, the haunted look in his eyes. The nightmares that drove him to the bottle.
"I'll see you around," I say, hating how final it sounds.
Then, without thinking – like we do this every single day - I lean towards Maddie and plant a kiss on her cheek.
The softness of her skin under my lips, the little gasp I hear from her—it's like a jolt straight to my system. For a second, everything else fades away. I want to stay in this moment, to feel that connection again. But I can't—there's too much at stake. Kellan's been teetering on the edge for too long, and one misstep could send him over. I can't let him down, even if it means walking away from Maddie right now.
"Tomorrow, I'll see you tomorrow. That's what I meant to say," I mutter to Maddie, my lips still tingling from that unexpected kiss that somehow felt intimate, real, raw.
"Uh-uh," she answers and as I step an inch away, my mom gives me a knowing smile while Aunt Locelli's looking at me expectantly, tapping her finger against her cheek like a kid waiting for candy.
"I mean... if you don't mind," she says with a smile.
Fuck it. Why not? I lean in and give Aunt Locelli a quick peck on the cheek too. Her perfume hits me like a wall, making my eyes water. Did she bathe in the stuff?
I catch Maddie's eye as I pull back. There's a glint there, amusement mixed with something else. Something that makes my heart race.
"I really have to go," I rasp, the words heavy, like they're pulling me away from something I don't want to leave behind. As I turn, my mind's still on that kiss, the way Maddie looked at me—like she was seeing something more than just the guy with a fortress made of pain and fear around him.
But there's no time to unpack that now. Kellan needs me, and if I don't leave right now, I might not leave at all.