Chapter 03 JESSIE
The photos were still glowing on Sadie’s screen. She was talking about edits and timelines, about when we’d see the final versions, but my brain couldn’t hold on to any of it. I hoped Danny was listening, because all I could think about was him.
Those intense green eyes. The way his stare almost felt like too much when it was fixed on me… and how I craved it the second it was gone.
This felt like something. I didn’t know what yet, but it wasn’t just attraction. There was more there. You could see it in the pictures, and it was coming from both of us.
So why did he pull away?
He’d asked me a million questions. He’d listened. He’d offered pieces of himself, only to refuse a kiss. It didn’t add up.
Maybe it was me. Or my job. Or the fact that I worked for his dad. Maybe I was just stuck in my own head. Nervous about my ridiculous crush on a twenty-two-year-old that was growing way too big now that I’d actually met him.
Fuck. This was stupid.
Danny brushed the sand from his shorts as he stood, leaning in to hug Sadie goodbye, and I shot up, dragged back into reality.
“Thank you for signing up,“
she said. “I loved meeting you.”
“Same,“
Danny replied, smiling. “I can’t wait to see them.“
His gaze flicked to me before he shifted his weight.
After I said goodbye and thanked her too, I watched Sadie walk away from us, her retreat quietly marking the real end of the date.
Everything felt off-balance.
What now?
Were we just supposed to go back to our lives, like nothing had happened, after spending the whole morning with our hands on each other?
“Do you have to go back to work?“
Danny’s voice pulled me out of it.
“No,“
I said too fast. “No, I… I got the day off. For this.”
Hope bloomed in my chest as he glanced down at his feet. Then he looked back up, lips curving into that devastating, playful smile. “Wanna hang out?”
I couldn’t stop my own smile from breaking through. “Where?”
He scratched the back of his head, his nose scrunching in an absurdly endearing way as he thought it through. “The hotel is a no, right?”
I grimaced. “It’d be weird.“
I was on friendly terms with half the staff and could already picture the looks, the questions. And wasn’t there some rule about not dating guests?
“So no hotel room,” he said.
My stomach dipped at the way he’d phrased that.
That little grin was back. “What about your place?”
“Oh—really?”
He shrugged, bouncing slightly on his feet. “We’ve been out in the sun all morning. We could go there, talk. A shower would be nice too.”
Oh. Right. Reasonable. Although…
“You’ve got a full house?“
he guessed correctly.
“Not really. Rory might still be there, but everyone else is working.”
“Perfect,“
he said. “We can order in. I’m starving.”
I grinned as we picked up our boards and started toward the parking lot, sand still clinging to our ankles. “I can cook, you know.”
“Yeah?“
His eyes lit up. “You’re going to cook for me, Chef?”
Heat crept up my neck that had nothing to do with the sun. “Yeah, I’ll cook for you.”
He slowed just enough to really look at me, that intense, curious stare settling back in. He shook his head a little, letting out a sound that was half laugh, half frustrated groan.
“What?”
“Nothing.“
He pointed ahead. “Is this your car?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll be right over.”
I grabbed his board, getting both of them up and strapped across the roof while he jogged off. Once they were secure, I wrapped a towel around my waist, stripped out of my wetsuit, pulled on my shorts, and tossed the damp gear into the back before climbing inside. The air was thick and warm, still faintly scented with salt and sunscreen. I cranked the AC, tossing a dry towel over the seat for him.
A moment later, the passenger door opened and slammed shut, and suddenly he was right there beside me—close enough that I could still feel the heat radiating off him. He dragged a white T-shirt over his head, the cotton clinging to his damp skin, then leaned back in the seat and set his bag on the floor. “Ready.”
I put the car in drive, checking the mirror as I pulled out. “It’s about a half-hour drive.”
“Cool,“
he said, his hand drifting to the radio.
The drive back felt entirely different. My stomach was still spinning, but for new reasons now. Danny hummed or sang along to whatever played between us, breaking off now and then to smile in my direction. Wind rushed through the open window, ruffling his hair as his sun-kissed skin glowed in the light. He seemed relaxed, even as he kept shifting every few seconds, that restless energy was clearly part of who he was—not just nerves.
When I pulled into the parking lot, self-consciousness crept back in.
The apartment was clean—there was no way it wouldn’t be, considering what we did for a living—but it was modest. Housing near the resorts wasn’t exactly generous on our salaries, especially at our level. And Danny… well, he probably wasn’t used to modest. Not when it came to anything, especially where he stayed.
But when we walked in, he looked at ease. Those green eyes took everything in without judgment, just open, genuine curiosity.
“Give me a second,“
I said, dropping my things by the door. “I’ll check if Rory’s still here.”
He nodded, that easy smile still in place.
I cracked our bedroom door as quietly as I could. The lump beneath the blankets told me everything I needed to know. Still out cold. I sighed silently and closed it again.
“He’s here, but you can still—“
The words died when I turned and found Danny right in front of me. “Hey.”
He stepped closer, and my back hit the wall, my heart slamming hard enough to knock the air from my lungs.
“Do you think we can pick up where we left off in the shoot?“
he asked, eyes locked on mine, unblinking.
My stomach flipped. “What do you mean?”
His hands came up to my neck as he leaned in. We were close enough now that our noses nearly brushed.
“I want to kiss you,“
he whispered, his gaze dropping to my mouth.
Oh. Fuck.
“I thought you didn’t…”
He did that restless thing again, rocking slightly on his feet. “I wanted it to be ours,“
he said, quieter now. “Not for the camera.”
That hit me square in the chest.
He wanted to kiss me.
I couldn’t get words past the tightness in my throat—not with him this close, not with my brain short-circuiting like this. My hands slid to his waist, solid and sun-heated under my palms even through his shirt, and I pulled him in before I could overthink it. Tilted my head. Closed the distance.
His lips were warm when they met mine.
We broke apart on a shared breath, then came back together again, slower this time. Softer.
The way he kissed—fuck—it was careful, unhurried, like he wasn’t trying to take anything I hadn’t offered. It left me unsteady in the best possible way.
More soft presses. More stolen breaths. That low, charged hum building between us.
And when our lips parted again and our tongues brushed for the first time, it felt like an explosion. Heat shot through me, all the way to my fingertips.
How could anyone taste this good?
My hands slid over his back, up between his shoulder blades, pulling him in. He was solid under my palms, all muscles and coiled tension. Danny’s arms looped around my neck, keeping the pace slow, drawn out. Every brush of his tongue, every press of his lips, every scrape of his barely there stubble against my mouth scattered my thoughts until there was nothing left but him.
When he finally rested his forehead against mine to breathe, I didn’t quite stop. As he eased back, my mouth followed, soft kisses along the edge of his lips, his cheek. I felt his smile against me.
“That definitely works,“
he murmured.
I let out a quiet laugh. “Definitely.”
His fingers traced the short hair at my nape. “So… how about that shower?”
I froze, my mouth still against his jaw.
“I wasn’t implying anything,“
he added quickly, laughing under his breath. “Just a lonely shower.”
I pulled back enough to look at him. “It’s not that I wouldn’t want to,“
I said honestly. “Because I would.”
His arms tightened again, just a fraction.
“I’m just not the fastest guy with things like this.”
Something flickered in his eyes—hopeful and uncertain all at once.
“You don’t do casual.“
It wasn’t a question.
I shook my head, hoping to God this wasn’t going to make him bolt.
But he only grinned as his hands fell away, leaving the air between us suddenly colder. “Yeah. I figured.“
His gaze softened. “You don’t seem like the type.”
I wasn’t sure how to take that.
My hand stayed at his waist, unsteady, my eyes dropping to it. “How about you?”
When I looked up, his expression had gone still, making my pulse trip over itself.
“I’m not that type either,” he said.
That surprised me enough that I opened my mouth to ask more—but he stepped back before I could.
“So,“
he said lightly, already turning. “Shower. Then food.”
I stood there for a second after, the echo of his mouth still on mine, my body slow to catch up with reality. My lips felt warm, touched. It wasn’t just the kiss—though, fuck, it had been good—it was the way he’d looked at me.
As I led him down the hall, my pulse still off-kilter, I knew something had shifted. Even if I didn’t know what it meant yet.
By the time we were both clean and dry, the air in the apartment felt different. More comfortable. Lived in. But it wasn’t the place—it was us.
Danny sat on the couch, hair still damp, one leg tucked under him, the sandwich balanced in his hands like it was something fragile. He glanced up once, excitement practically vibrating off him, before digging in.
His eyes went wide as he chewed. “Fuck,“
he said around the bite. “That’s really good.”
A laugh slipped out of me as pride settled in my chest. “Yeah?”
Another bite, followed by a nod. Watching him eat made me take a second look at my own food, appreciating it through his reaction. Most days at home meant grabbing whatever was quick and ready—the curse of a cook—but this meal had been a fixation for months. Croissant rolls. Homemade smoked pork. Camembert. A tomato jam that leaned just a little too spicy. Perfect.
“Did you make all of this?“
he asked when he was halfway through.
“Everything but the rolls. Lani made those. We keep them frozen, ready to go.”
“Handy.“
He took another big bite, little flakes clinging to his lips and fingers, making a mess as he went.
That made me smile. I loved people who ate like this—no hesitation, no fuss, just enjoying the hell out of it. My leg stretched closer to his along the couch. Danny didn’t even look, just shifted naturally, moving closer too.
After wiping my hand on a napkin, I found the back of his neck. When his mouth curved into a smile, my fingers stayed there, absently playing with his hair as I finished eating.
“You’re a touchy person, right?”
For a second, I almost pulled my hand away—but one look at my face made him scoot closer instead, hooking his ankle around mine.
“That’s a good thing,“
he said. “In my book. I’m like that too.”
Something in me eased. My fingers skimmed his skin, my thumb brushing behind his velvety-soft earlobe. He made a low, content sound, and I wasn’t sure if it was still about the food.
As soon as he finished, he jumped off the couch and into the kitchen, taking the dish right out of my hand. Water started running behind me. I took a sip of my soda and watched him over my shoulder.
“Everything’s so neat in here,“
he called. “You should see my room. Or—actually—don’t. I’d be very fucking embarrassed right now.”
“We’re used to cleaning up after ourselves,“
I said. “Kind of necessary when this many people live here.”
“Close to the resort, too. Smart. I’ve heard most people commute, like, an hour.”
The water shut off.
“Yeah. That’s usually how it goes.”
By the time I wiped my hands, he was already bouncing over the couch and settling in beside me again.
Danny grinned—and then his hands were on my neck, his mouth back on mine. I dropped the napkin and kissed him back, letting him set the pace. My hands slid over his thighs to his hips, my mouth opening as the kiss shifted from asking to demanding.
“Come here,“
he said against my lips.
He leaned back into the cushions, and I followed, fitting myself between his legs, chasing his mouth like I didn’t know how to stop.
“Hey,“
he said softly, breaking away. His forehead stayed pressed to mine, just enough to keep me from diving back in.
“Yeah?”
“I feel like I need to tell you something.”
The smile was gone now, and that alone made my stomach knot.
“What is it?”
“I want to keep kissing you—for hours, if I can,“
he said, fast and honest. “But…“
He shrugged.
“What?”
“I’m leaving the day after tomorrow.”
Oh.
Oh.
My heart sank.
“I get it if you want me to fuck off now,“
he rushed on. “I know you don’t do casual. But fuck, I really hope you don’t, because I like you, Jessie. And I wasn’t expecting that. I wasn’t expecting you. I just—“
He looked up at me, helpless. “I want to drink it all up.”
I stayed there, breathing over him, trying to think. Of course he was leaving. I’d known that—guests always leave. I’d just thought we had more time.
And I wanted this. Him.
Images flashed through my mind—him laughing outside the restaurant, the way my neck always strained when he passed, the drop in my stomach every time I almost got caught staring.
He liked me.
That could be enough.
“I don’t want you to fuck off,“
I said. “Stay.”
His lips curved. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Let’s have today.”
He was already nodding when I closed the space between us again.
The kiss shed its patience almost immediately. Danny’s hands slid from my neck to my shoulders, my waist, searching like he needed something to hold on to. His lips parted, tongue asking for more, and I gave it to him without thinking.
And I wanted everything. To take him in. The way he moved under me, the heat of his skin, the rough edge of his breath when it slipped out.
Our bodies pressed closer, heavier. When the sound he made shifted—rougher, less controlled—my thoughts scattered completely. It wasn’t just his undeniably masculine scent or the sharp angles of him fitting against me.
It was his hard cock, pressing into my stomach.
Pleasure shot through me.
“Do you want to—“
he started, then trailed off.
I checked my watch. Almost noon. Rory could be up any minute. Could get called in early.
Fuck it.
“Yes,“
I said, and kissed him again before doubt could catch up. I lined myself up with him, our bodies rubbing together through our shorts, friction building fast.
“You’re such a good kisser,“
he whispered against my mouth.
The praise hit low, right at the base of my spine, heat flooding my body as he took my face in his hands and showed me exactly how much he meant it.
He felt so fucking good. It had been so long since I’d felt anything like this—hell, nothing had ever felt like this. Everything about him turned me on to an alarming degree, and whatever restraint I’d had dissolved completely with him.
His hands slid down, over my ribs, my back, until they caught at the hem of my shirt. My hips ground into his, keeping the motion going, and one rougher push tipped him over the edge, his hands slipping under the fabric, grabbing my ass hard.
“So fucking hot,” he said.
The friction between us climbed fast—a little too fast. His desperate kisses, the firm grip on my skin, the way his hands urged me to move more and more—everything blurred together, fanning the flames between us.
Then he rolled his hips up into mine, just a fraction quicker, and that was it. Pleasure crashed through me before I could even think to stop it.
“Oh, f-fuck—”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried—and failed—to hold back as I came against him. My hips stilled, and I buried my face in his neck, teeth clenched around a groan that still slipped out.
I stayed there, panting against his skin, while my body slowly caught up with reality. Thoughts crept back in one by one.
And with them, mortification.
Danny’s hands slid out of my shorts. “Did you just…”
Kill me.
“Come?”
Absolutely fucking end me.
A strangled groan tore out of me, my face burning as he chuckled.
“Hey, come here,“
he said, fingers brushing my jaw, trying to coax me up.
I shook my head.
Another chuckle—softer this time. It helped that he still sounded a little out of breath.
“Please?“
His voice dipped, gentle enough that I couldn’t make myself deny him.
I leaned my weight on my forearms and looked down at him, his hands warm on my cheeks. He didn’t look disappointed. Just flushed. Amused.
“Don’t be embarrassed,“
he said. “I was about two more grinds away from coming myself.”
My jaw clenched as I looked away.
“I wouldn’t lie to you.“
He nudged my chin until I faced him again. Those green eyes were open, earnest. “And it’s really hot how into me you are.”
The grin he gave me almost pulled a smile out of me too, my breathing finally starting to slow—
When my bedroom door burst open.
We both froze.
Rory stood there, one hand still on the handle. His pale blue eyes took it all in—Danny, our flushed faces, me still lying between his legs.
His lips twitched.
“Rory—“
I hoped he caught the warning in my tone.
He didn’t. The twitch turned into a full grin. “Oh my fucking god,“
he said, before bursting out laughing.
“Okay, yeah,“
I said, starting to push up, then stopping short, painfully aware of my shorts. “We’re kind of—”
“Yeah,“
he cut in, hands on his hips. “No. I can see that.“
He paused, tilted his head, and took us in like he wanted to memorize the moment. “Wow. This is what happens when you finally go on a date after a year of celibacy, huh?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake—”
“I’m just saying,“
he went on, spreading his hands. “We were all rooting for you. Like. Emotionally invested.”
My face burned hotter, my eyes begging him to shut the hell up for once.
“And then you come home,“
he continued, “with him. Daniel. Fucking. Harding.“
Rory glanced at Danny, then back at me. “So.“
A beat. “How does it feel to finally hook up with your crush?”
My mouth fell open, horrified.
Fuck.
My.
Life.