Chapter 15
Daniel
I woke at dawn, my nerves crackling with anticipation.
The kitchen needed to be spotless before Harald arrived.
Empty takeout containers vanished into the trash.
Dishes that had lounged in the sink found their way into cabinets.
The coffee maker sputtered to life as I wiped down every surface twice.
My phone buzzed. A message from Harald lit up the screen: "Good morning handsome. Can't wait to see you again."
My heart skipped. I typed back: "Morning! Before you come over, fair warning about my roommates..."
"Should I be worried?"
"Let's just say Jayda and Caleb are... unique. She's a goth punk rocker with a heart of gold, and he's the world's most sarcastic hipster. They're also ridiculously protective of me."
"After everything you've been through, I'd expect nothing less from true friends."
I smiled, touched by his understanding. "They might interrogate you. Especially after Alex."
"I welcome the challenge. I'll win them over with my charm and good looks."
"Cocky much?" I snorted, arranging fresh flowers in a vase - a touch Jayda would definitely notice and tease me about later.
"Only stating facts. But seriously, I promise to be on my best behavior. Your friends matter to you, so they matter to me too."
The sincerity in his words warmed my chest. "Just be yourself. That's who I..." I backspaced, hesitating. Too soon for that word. "That's who I like spending time with."
"Same here. See you soon x"
I tucked my phone away and surveyed the apartment one last time.
Everything gleamed. The coffee table magazines aligned at perfect right angles.
Fresh pastries from the bakery downstairs waited on a plate.
Now I just had to survive the next hour without completely losing my mind over what was to come.
The sound of Jayda's bedroom door opening made me jump. "Danny! Is that coffee I smell?"
Here we go.
"Okay, ground rules for breakfast." I planted myself in front of Jayda and Caleb, who lounged on the couch with matching smirks. "No embarrassing stories. No death threats. And absolutely no mention of-"
"Alex?" Jayda arched an eyebrow. "You mean the walking trash fire we warned you about?"
I winced. "Yeah. That one."
"We hated that snake from day one." Caleb adjusted his beanie. "Remember when he 'forgot' his wallet that time at dinner? And made you pay for his fancy wine?"
"Or how about when he kept blowing off our game nights?" Jayda's dark lips pressed into a thin line. "Always with some lame excuse about work."
The memories stung. They'd tried so hard to show me Alex's true colors, but I'd been too love-blind to see it. "I know, I know. I should have listened to you both."
"Damn right you should have." Jayda softened her tone. "We're just looking out for you, baby."
"Which is why we need to properly vet this Harald guy." Caleb grinned. "Make sure he's worthy."
"Please don't scare him away." I dropped onto the couch between them. "He's different. He actually listens when I talk. And he's genuine and kind and-"
"And we still need to test him." Jayda patted my knee. "That's non-negotiable."
"What kind of best friends would we be if we didn't put him through his paces?" Caleb nudged my shoulder.
I groaned. "Can you at least promise to be somewhat nice?"
They exchanged a look.
"We promise to be..." Jayda paused.
"Thorough in our evaluation," Caleb finished.
"That's not reassuring at all." But I couldn't help smiling. Their protective streak might be annoying, but after Alex, I understood why they needed to be sure. This time, I'd trust their judgment.
Harald
My palms feel clammy as I stand outside Daniel's door, the hallway's fluorescent lights casting harsh shadows.
The bouquet of fresh sunflowers I picked up this morning trembles slightly in my grip.
Back home, I've faced rooms full of dignitaries without breaking a sweat, but meeting Daniel's friends feels infinitely more daunting.
The door swings open. Daniel's face lights up, and my breath catches at the sight of him in a burgundy henley that hugs his chest and arms perfectly.
"You brought flowers?" His eyes sparkle as he leans in for a tantalizing kiss that leaves the promise of more later. "Come in, come in."
I step inside, hyper-conscious of my movements. Did I walk too stiffly? Should I have worn something more casual than this blue cashmere sweater?
"These are lovely." Daniel inhales the sunflowers' scent. "Let me grab a vase."
The apartment unfolds before me - mismatched furniture arranged with care, a wall covered in polaroid photos, the lingering aroma of coffee and something sweet baking. It's everything my stark palace quarters aren't - warm, personal, alive with memories.
Two people emerge from the kitchen - a tall man with close-cropped hair and a woman with box braids cascading down her back. Daniel's roommates. My throat tightens.
"Jayda, Caleb, this is Harald." Daniel's voice carries a hint of nervousness that matches my own.
I extend my hand, praying they can't see it shake. "It's wonderful to meet you both. Daniel speaks of you often."
The scrutiny in their gazes makes my skin prickle. They're protective of him - as they should be after what his ex did. I straighten my shoulders, channeling years of diplomatic training while trying not to seem too formal.
The sound of Daniel dropping something in the kitchen breaks the tension. "Shit! Don't worry, vase is okay!"
A genuine laugh escapes me, and for a moment, I forget to be nervous. This is Daniel's world - messy, real, wonderful. I want so badly to belong in it.
Jayda and Caleb exchange a look that speaks volumes - the kind of silent communication that comes from years of being in love. My heart pounds against my ribs as I wait for their verdict.
"Come help me with breakfast," Jayda says, jerking her head toward the kitchen. "Daniel's hopeless with pancakes."
"I heard that!" Daniel calls out, still fussing with the vase.
"You were meant to," Caleb shoots back, dropping onto their worn leather couch with a knowing smirk.
I follow Jayda into their compact kitchen, where the scent of coffee mingles with vanilla and cinnamon. She hands me a whisk and slides a bowl of batter across the counter.
"So, Harald from Denmark," she says, measuring coffee grounds into a filter. "What brings you to New York?"
The whisk moves smoothly through the batter as I consider my response. The truth - that I'm here specifically to see Daniel - feels both too simple and too loaded.
"Work, primarily," I say, which isn't entirely a lie. "But meeting Daniel has definitely been the highlight."
"Mhmm." Jayda's rings click against the coffee pot as she fills it. "And what kind of work do you do?"
Before I can fumble through an answer, Daniel swoops in and wraps his arms around my waist from behind. "Stop interrogating him, J."
"I'm just making conversation." Jayda's stern expression cracks into a warm smile. "Besides, anyone who brings flowers and knows how to properly whisk pancake batter can't be all bad."
"Thank you, I try." I keep my tone light as I continue whisking. "Though I must confess, my culinary skills are limited to breakfast foods and the occasional pasta dish."
"And what do you do when you're not making breakfast?" Jayda measures out another scoop of coffee, her dark eyes intent.
"I work for the family business in government administration primarily.
" The familiar half-truth rolls off my tongue.
"Lots of meetings, policy reviews, public relations.
Rather dull stuff, actually." I pour the batter onto the hot griddle in careful circles, grateful for something to focus on besides her piercing gaze.
"And your family? They're all back in Denmark?"
My hand tightens on the spatula. "They are, yes." I flip a pancake with perhaps more force than necessary. "Daniel mentioned you're into punk music? He showed me some of the bands you've introduced him to."
Jayda's eyes narrow slightly at my obvious deflection. She sets down the coffee pot with deliberate care, and I can feel her reassessing me. The kitchen fills with the sizzle of pancakes and an undercurrent of tension.
Daniel slides his arms around my waist again, resting his chin on my shoulder. "These smell amazing."
I lean back into his embrace, grateful for the interruption. The warmth of his chest against my back grounds me, helps steady my racing thoughts.
"You're right," Jayda says after a moment, though her tone suggests she's filing away my evasiveness for later consideration. "The Ramones are always a good place to start for newcomers to punk."
"The Ramones are classic, but I've always had a soft spot for The Clash," I say, flipping another pancake. "London Calling got me through some particularly tedious state dinne- meetings, I mean."
"Oh, we've got ourselves a proper punk fan here." Jayda's eyes light up, her earlier suspicion momentarily forgotten. "What's your take on Dead Kennedys?"
"Holiday in Cambodia is brilliant." The tension in my shoulders eases as we drift into safer territory. "Though I suppose it hits different when you actually work in government."
Daniel snorts against my neck. "Harald's got jokes."
"Speaking of musical taste," Caleb pipes up from the doorway, pushing his thick-rimmed glasses up his nose. "Have you heard the new indie folk band from Portland? They only released twelve copies of their album on recycled vinyl-"
"No." Jayda points her coffee mug at him. "We are not doing this. Not everyone needs to know about your obscure bands that recorded their albums in abandoned grain silos."
"It was actually an old lighthouse," Caleb mutters.
"Even worse." Jayda turns back to me. "So, The Clash? Tell me you've got Better Living Through Chemistry on your playlist."
"Of course." I plate up the last pancake, grateful that my hands have stopped shaking. "Though I have to admit, Spanish Bombs speaks to me more."