Chapter 04 DANNY
After a quick, not-so-discreet change of clothes, Jessie was still arguing with his roommate outside. His muffled grumbling still sounded furious from the other side of the door, while I sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on my knees, doing a terrible job of keeping the grin off my face.
He was unbearably cute when he was flustered. And, wow, did I have ammunition now.
Not to be cruel about it—never that. Mostly I wanted to tease him a little. And maybe let him know just how much everything his friend had said had lit me the hell up. Because, fuck, if he wasn’t the most perfect man I’d ever met.
I loved the contradiction of him. How, at first glance, he could read as rough—guarded, intimidating, even—but if you actually looked, really looked, the softness was right there. His cropped hair felt less like an edge and more like a habit. Neat. Practical.
That same care showed up everywhere else too. In his short, clean nails. In the order of his room—his bed perfectly made, photos framed on his nightstand, and a Queen poster hanging above it, like something chosen with affection rather than irony.
And the tattoos.
They weren’t threatening in the slightest. Birds in flight. The sea. Waves, turtles, fish. Then a knife, kitchen measurements, ingredients. A quiet map of the things he loved, etched into his skin. It was intimate in a way that made something flutter in my stomach.
And now this.
Yeah. We were absolutely going to talk about this.
Another irritated sound, then the door finally opened. Jessie stepped inside, eyes still wide, shock clinging to him like static. “Sorry about that,“
he said immediately. “About him. He’s a good guy, but he has zero filter. Like, none.“
He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “People love him, though. Tips are great. But fuck, he can be inappropriate.”
I just smiled and patted the bed beside me.
He paused, took a deep breath, hands braced on his hips. “Can we pretend you didn’t hear any of that?”
Not a chance. I shook my head.
He closed his eyes and groaned, long and miserable.
Laughing softly, I reached for his hand, tugging him down beside me. He came without resistance, shoulders tense, still bracing for impact.
I leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Sorry,“
I murmured, letting my lips linger. “I’m afraid that ship has sailed.”
“Right, so I should probably explain—”
“You don’t have to,“
I cut in gently. “But I’m dying to hear about this crush.”
“Oh, fuck me.“
He slumped back against the bed, hands covering his face.
I shifted closer, propping myself on one elbow so I could look down at him. “I’m, like, properly crushing on you right now,“
I said. “So you don’t have to be shy about yours.”
Lifting my knee over his thigh, I hooked my leg around his. Close, but not trapping. An invitation.
He dropped his hands, though his gaze still stayed just off to the side. “I noticed you when you came into the restaurant,“
he said. “The guys in the kitchen noticed too. They liked teasing me about it.“
A pause. “That’s all.”
Jessie had told me earlier at the shoot that he worked at ?āina Grill, where I ate more often than I probably should have—sometimes with my dad, sometimes alone. Still, I couldn't remember seeing him. The thought made something in my chest dip. How many times had I walked past that open kitchen, eyes fixed on moving hands and plated food, and missed him completely?
“I’m sorry I didn’t notice you,” I said.
Jessie let out a short, humorless chuckle. “Why would you?“
The words came easily. Dismissive. Like it made perfect sense that I hadn’t.
It didn’t sit right.
My hand came up to his cheek, thumb brushing his skin until he finally looked at me. “Here’s the thing,“
I said. “I know I can be a lot. I get told that constantly. And knowing full well this could absolutely kill your crush instead of fueling it—which is what I want—I’m going to let you in on something.”
His eyes stayed locked on mine.
“If I weren’t leaving in two days, I would’ve asked you to be my boyfriend after I kissed you.”
His lips parted on a soft inhale.
“I’m like that,“
I went on, the words coming fast now. “I move too quickly. Fall hard. I get my heart stomped on, and then I do it all over again.“
A small shrug. “But this doesn’t feel impulsive. There’s something about you—I don’t even know what it is—but it feels like your soul is calling out to mine.“
I let out a quiet, breathy laugh. “Maybe it’s just attraction. Maybe we’re compatible. But the fact that you saw me first? Wanted me first?” My thumb brushed his cheek again. “That makes it feel like fate. And I fucking love fate.”
I held his gaze, unapologetic. “So I’m about to get weird with you, man,“
I said. “Hope you’re ready.”
He stayed quiet. Long enough that my chest tightened. Long enough for doubt to creep in—for me to think I should take something back, soften it, make it less… me.
Then—
“I would have said yes,“
he said, stopping my spiral cold. “If you’d asked, I would’ve said yes.”
And there it was again. That sense of alignment. I threw my mess at him, and he met it without flinching.
“We should stay in touch after I leave,“
I said quickly. “We can do that, right?”
My heart kicked when he nodded.
“Yeah. Let’s do that. I want that.”
A laugh broke out of me—not humor exactly. Relief. “Why me?“
The question slipped out before I could stop it. Because I needed to know if this was fleeting or if I was already falling headfirst.
His hand found purchase on my hip, tentative at first, then firmer.
“You’re so gorgeous,“
he said. “More than I could probably put into words. And it’s not just—“
He faltered, scrunching his face. “Not just how you look.”
I waited.
“It’s like there’s this light coming off you,“
he said finally. “When you laugh. When you’re serious. When you smile.“
His fingers tightened on my skin. “You look like sunshine, and I can’t make myself look away.”
“Wow…“
The word came out soft, awed—and something clicked in my brain. Whether he was ready for it or not. Whether it was insane or not. He was it.
I’d always loved that idea—that when you met your person, you just knew. It was so fucking romantic. And now, lying here with him, my heart already too far ahead of me—
I just knew.
And I didn’t want to waste a second of it. I leaned down and kissed him deeply, not bothering to ease us into it. Jessie kissed me right back, in that perfectly soft way of his. In one quick motion, I straddled his hips, keeping his face between my palms as I showed him exactly how much I wanted him, our mouths parting over each other again and again.
Then a tiny alarm bell rang in my head, making me break away just enough to breathe. “Do you want to slow—”
“No.“
Jessie pulled me back down by my neck, rougher than before, keeping me right where I was for a second longer—then he flipped us, pushing me onto my back and climbing over me. “Your lips are perfect,“
he said between kisses.
“Yeah?”
He nodded, fingers digging into the hair at my nape to keep me close. “I could spend the rest of my life kissing you.”
Fuck—let’s.
As things picked up, I lifted my hips, urging him to drop his weight back onto me, chasing the friction I was still craving from earlier. But he did the opposite, breaking the kiss and settling beside me instead. Still, his lips hovered a breath away when he asked, “Can I touch you?”
“Fucking everywhere,“
I said without hesitation.
His hand slid from my nape down my ribs, his mouth hungry against mine as his fingers slipped past the waistband of my shorts and closed around my already hard cock. The firm grip dragged a groan out of me before I could stop it.
He looked shaken by the sound, pleasure threading through his features. “You like to make noise, baby?”
Baby.
This guy was going to fucking annihilate me with sweetness.
I nodded as his hand stroked my cock, my whole body tilting toward him, instinctively offering myself up. I wanted all of him, wanted to give him everything.
“I like that,“
he whispered, his mouth sliding from my jaw down to my neck. I groaned again when his hand tightened around the head of my cock, and he sucked at my skin. “Fuck,“
he breathed. “The sounds you make.”
My hand slipped into his shorts, grabbing his firm ass, loving the solid heat of him under my palm. “Make me make more of them,“
I said. “Make me feel good, baby.”
His body shivered against mine. He liked that too.
Jessie moved his hand, pushing my shirt up and out of the way. I did the same with him, needing a glimpse of his bare skin before I had to say goodbye to it. We were clearly on the same wavelength, because he went for my shorts next, nudging his out of the way too at the lightest request.
His hand returned to my cock, and I forced my eyes to stay open. There were tattoos on his thighs too. Fucking gorgeous. Even his cock was pretty—thick and hard for me. I wanted to suck him off desperately, but I knew he wasn’t going to let me lead this time. He wanted one thing—to take me right to the edge, to prove that he could. He didn’t need to. I was already gone for everything he did to me.
Then he let go, only to press a hand to my shoulder and turn me away from him. I almost complained at the loss of his mouth, but his cock slid into the space between my cheeks, the angle of his grip on my own turning more certain. Pleasure rippled through me at the change.
“Wait,“
he said, moving his hand again, and I almost begged him not to stop—until he leaned over me to open his nightstand and pull out lube, effectively silencing me.
“Just to make it feel better,“
he added, his tone almost shy, like he thought I’d been expecting something else.
“I’m vers, baby. You can fuck me if you like,“
I said. “But I’m fine waiting too.”
His hand came back slick around my cock, and my eyelids fluttered closed at the sensation. He rocked against me again, the same slow friction, and I almost wished he’d do it—right now.
“Let’s wait.“
His hips kept moving against mine anyway, like he couldn’t quite help himself. “I want to know all of you. Savor it. I don’t want to miss anything.”
So fucking perfect.
I pushed back into him, and the tortured groan he let out was beautiful. One of my hands found his, still working my cock—not to stop him, just to make it more real, to feel him in more ways than one. My other hand slid to his nape, pulling him closer.
His mouth was on my neck, kissing—soft, then starving, then soft again. The roll of his hips, the drag of his cock, was maddening. My balls were drawing up, the edge starting low and spreading everywhere.
“Gonna come,“
I said on a moan.
“Yeah?“
His hand sped up; his hips followed.
“Yeah, baby. You’re gonna make me come.”
He groaned again, deep and rough, a sound I was already learning meant he was close too—and that he liked my mouth for more than just kissing. Perfect, because I’d never been good at shutting up, and sex only made it worse.
His cock pressed harder, and I couldn’t help picturing it—how good it would feel to have him rock into me instead of just against me.
“Fuck,“
I gasped. “I want that cock inside me.”
His hand went frantic—pulling, stopping, picking up again in a rhythm that was about to send me over. One last twist of his grip over my crown, and I was done.
“Ah—fuck—“
I closed my eyes and rode it, his hand still stroking me as my cock spilled into his palm, over and over. My body shook with the aftershocks, and then I felt it—the heat of his own cum against the small of my back, the sharp inhale he couldn’t quite hold back. His chest was hard against my own, his heartbeat frantic against mine, our rhythms falling back into sync.
And then he didn’t pull away. Didn’t roll off me.
He wrapped an arm over my chest, fitting his body close, not minding the mess one bit, and pressed kisses to my nape.
“Danny,“
he whispered between them.
“What?”
“Nothing.“
He nuzzled my neck, kissed me again. “Just wanted to say your name right now.“
His arm tightened around me. “Like this.”
Fuck—this guy. How had anyone ever let him go?
“Did you have a bad breakup?“
I blurted, because I couldn’t fucking help myself.
He tensed behind me, then relaxed a second later, wiping his hand on the sheets before bringing it back to trail his knuckles over my chest. “Not really. We just wanted different things. She wanted to go back, and I—”
And he wanted to stay here.
The air shifted, thickening with something uneasy this time.
I shook my head and turned in his arms, catching his mouth immediately. Nothing was pulling me out of this moment. Nothing.
“I’m going to live in LA,“
I said. “I used to travel a lot, but I’ve got an internship now. A regular job. I have to stay put.“
I swallowed. “It’s only a two- or three-hour time difference. That’s nothing.”
His eyes moved quickly over my face, lips parting. His cheeks were still flushed, a sheen of sweat on his skin. “Why are you—”
“I want to stay in touch.“
I licked my lips. “I wasn’t kidding about that. We’ll figure out dates. I’ll come back. Maybe not right away, but—fuck, I don’t know. We’ll figure something out.“
I held his gaze. “Do you want that?”
He started nodding before I even finished. “I want that.”
I laughed, bright and unguarded.
His grin spread wide in response.
We were together the rest of the afternoon, into the night. His roommates came and went, but we stayed wrapped up in the bubble of his room, talking about everything.
I told him about the jumps—how much my parents hated them, how much I loved them.
I told him about my friends back home.
I told him I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life… even though that wasn’t entirely true.
Because even if I didn’t know exactly what I wanted, I knew how I was going to find out.
Because of him.
At midnight, he dropped me off at the hotel. We kissed like maniacs before we finally had to let go. When I shut the car door, the window was still down, and I leaned in for one last look, our fingers tangled together. “This is the best first date I’ve ever been on.”
He smiled. “Me too.”
Dinner was already halfway done when I finally told them.
“I had a really good day yesterday,“
I said, cutting into my food. “A good date.”
My mom froze first, fork hovering midair. Since I was leaving soon, we weren’t down at the restaurant tonight—we were having dinner in my parents’ cabin instead.
“A date?“
she echoed, careful not to sound overeager. Even though she totally was.
I nodded, pressing my lips together to stop myself from grinning too wide.
My dad glanced up from his plate. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,“
I said. “Really good.”
They exchanged a look—the quiet, married kind—and my dad leaned back slightly in his chair. “That’s good, son.”
I took a breath. “It actually made me think about something I wanted to talk to you about.”
Now they were both focused on me.
“I still want the internship,“
I said quickly, before they could make the wrong assumption. “But I don’t want to do it somewhere everyone already knows me.”
My dad didn’t interrupt.
“I was thinking LA,“
I continued. “Nobody cares who I am there. I’d have to earn it.”
My mom reached for her glass, listening carefully.
“And I was wondering,“
I said, steady now, “if you’d be okay holding my trust for a little longer. Not forever. Just until I figure out what I actually want to build with it.”
Silence settled over the table.
My dad was the first to break it. “You want to learn how to work for it.”
“Yes.”
“Not hide behind it.”
“No.”
He studied me for a long second, then nodded once. “That’s a good instinct.”
My mom smiled—soft, proud in a way that made my throat tighten. “You sound sure of yourself.”
“I am.“
And it was true.
I’d still do the jumps every once in a while. Not because I needed the danger, not anymore, but because they centered me. Because standing at the edge, feeling the wind, choosing when to step off reminded me that I was in control—that fear didn’t get to decide for me. I knew my limits. I knew my body. I trusted myself to walk away when it stopped being about joy and started being about escape.
But this way, I could focus on work too. On building something that lasted longer than a rush, something that didn’t disappear the second my feet hit water.
And it didn’t hurt that LA was closer to him.
I smiled to myself—because what was getting my blood going right now wasn’t adrenaline or chasing the next drop. It was planning for a future that might actually be mine.
Funny, right? How life can change on you like that.