Chapter 25
Chapter twenty-five
Sean
I didn’t dare blink, my gaze locked on Mel’s as I stepped closer. “You look…,” I started, then shook my head with a crooked smile. “Yeah. Like that.”
She smiled, and my brain drew a string of happy emojis.
I turned toward Jeff, who had also gotten up to meet Abby. “Meet my girlfriend, Mel. Mel, my brother-in-law, Jeff.”
They exchanged warm hellos.
I slipped my hand into Mel’s. “Should we head out?”
Mel’s fingers curled into mine, her eyes watching me as if she was memorizing me all over again. Between that look and how much I didn’t want her more than a breath away… tonight’s celebration only got exceptional.
A soft and beautiful exception.
We piled into Jeff’s SUV and made the short drive to Davis, the college town pulsing with weekend energy.
The bar Abby picked sat above a bookstore, its rooftop strung with lights and humming with music that spilled out onto the sidewalk.
Inside was electric, and casual, with finger food trays circling the room and a dance floor already warming up.
The place smelled cocktails and grilled sliders, with a hint of perfume. Laughter bounced off the walls, and the bass thumped low, filling your chest.
Mel walked in beside me, her coral top catching the light, her leather jacket slung coolly over one shoulder. We sat at a table near the railing, overlooking the street below. A server took our drink order—cocktails for the girls, beers for the guys.
When he walked off, another server arrived with a large platter of finger food Abby had pre-ordered. It smelled heavenly: sliders, garlic fries, skewers, and something Abby swore was a vegan taco but looked suspiciously like pulled pork.
Mel popped a fry into her mouth and grinned at me. “This is dangerously good.”
“Dangerous is the theme tonight,” I said, stealing a slider.
I barely heard half of what was said—my attention was fixed on Mel.
Those almond-shaped eyes snared mine, undoing every damn thought I tried to hold.
She’d laugh at something Abby said, tilt her head, and a strand of curled hair would slide across her cheek.
I’d track the movement without meaning to, the curve of her smile pulling me in until I reached for a drink to break the spell.
“You’ve been staring,” Mel said, lips curving.
I let out a low breath. “I’ve been trying not to.”
“And failing miserably.” She laughed softly.
The music shifted to an upbeat track, and Abby grabbed Jeff’s hand and dragged him to the dance floor without hesitation.
Mel turned to me, eyes playful. “The best dancer if falling behind?”
I grinned. “When I said at that Dallas plaza, I was better than you, it wasn’t a bluff.”
“You mean when you didn’t even know off-beat dancing existed?”
I stood, offering my hand. “Ready to lose?”
She took it with a smirk. “You wish.”
We stepped into the crowd, the lights spinning above us, the bass thumping beneath our feet.
And just like that, Dallas wasn’t only a memory, it had been the spark that lit this momentum. Mel and I met the disco beat move for move. She was good. I matched every step she threw at me, and we danced and laughed, inventing ridiculous moves to outdo each other.
Sweat glistened on her skin, her cheeks flushed, her smile wide and wild.
Then the music slowed, the tempo dipping into a sultry beat.
I pulled her into my arms. Her flowery scent mixed with sweat, drinks, and the faint tang of finger food—it was all intoxicating.
Nothing mattered but her swaying to the rhythm in my arms.
I bent my head and kissed her right there on the dance floor. It was one of the best kisses I’d ever had.
Mel blinked up at me, lips parted, as if she hadn't expected that. Or maybe it was too short.
“An encore is on order, I know. But not here,” I told her.
She blinked again, then laughed, face planting into my chest, the music swallowing her laughter. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re stunning,” I said, brushing a curl off her cheek. “I’m not even sure I remember how to dance anymore.”
“Me neither,” she said. “We can just sway and look good doing it.”
So we did. I barely noticed the cold sweat drying down my back. She’d stolen all my sensations. My arms around her waist, hers around my neck, her head rested against my shoulder—the kind of closeness that blurred the rest of the night into a few songs, until it was time to leave.
The drive back was in a charged silence, like the after-overtime win. Streetlights slipped across her face, catching the shimmer at the corner of her eyes when she glanced at me. My hand stayed in hers the whole way.
When Jeff pulled into the driveway, past midnight, he and Abby said goodnight to us and went inside.
I remained on the porch with Mel, slipping my arms around her from behind.
She braced her hands over mine, leaning back into my chest, fitting like a second heartbeat.
We stood there in the dark, looking out over the illuminated lawn.
The heavy stuff from this morning, her family drama, tried to crawl back in. But tonight, her laughing, flushed from dancing, leaning into me, I saw how far she’d come already. She wasn’t her mother’s shadow, she was her own light. And damn if that light didn’t make everything else dim.
“You can keep the house keys,” I said. The words landed heavier than I expected.
She went still, then turned to face me.
“You’re giving me your house keys?” she asked, voice small with disbelief.
“Yes, Cutie. So you can take a closer look at the Ducati, anytime you want.”
She looked puzzled.
“My bike,” I clarified, a faint smile tugging at my mouth. “Maybe hold off riding her till I show you the basics? Actually, what do you say we take our first ride after work tomorrow?”
“That’s dangerous.”
“Not when I’m at the handlebars. It’s like skating. You barely wobbled last time.” Another peck. “Same with being public. I liked how you laughed through that whole photo shoot.”
She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
I knew that look—half hope, half fear. I wanted to erase the second half, make her see how this for what it was, how serious I was about us.
Having her here all weekend, dancing with her…
it had rewired something. I wanted the next weekend too, and every weekend after that.
I brushed a thumb along her jaw, feeling her pulse quicken under my hand.
“Mel,” I said quietly. “The bike’s risky, sure. But you…” I searched her face. “You’re the one thing I don’t want to risk losing.”
Her breath caught, eyes softening as if she finally understood. She tightened her fingers around mine. “I don’t want to lose you either.”
I kissed her, a slow, steady press, letting her feel how much my action meant more than my declaration. She melted in, arms looped behind my neck.
The kiss deepened, and those breathy sounds started up, the same ones from round one this morning. They hooked under my ribs and pulled, and I let them. If she forgot we were standing under the stars, fine by me. Those soft sounds had become my personal victory anthem.
I slid my hands along her back, slowly rubbing, pulling her closer. Her mouth parted beneath mine, eager now. I liked that she let go and felt this too. I wanted her to trust me in everything.
Her fingers flexed behind my neck, curling in my hair, as her body swayed, trusting me to hold her.
I loved when she forgot to be composed, when she stopped calculating and simply felt.
I slowed the kiss, easing off so we could breathe.
Her lips chased mine on instinct, and I smiled against her mouth.
“You keep making those noises, Mel,” I murmured, “I’m going to start thinking you like my house key plan a little too much.”
She opened her eyes. “You really know how to mess with my heart.”
“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever messed with.” I pressed one more kiss to her flushed mouth, then her cheek, then the spot below her ear. Her pulse fluttered beneath my lips, making my heart beat a little faster.
“I don’t want tonight to end,” I murmured.
She nudged her nose against mine. “Same. But we both have to work in a few hours.”
I kissed her again. Quick this time, but still warm.
Then I took her hand, and we stepped inside. I helped her grab her things, still wrapped in the bubble of confession between us. Tomorrow could come fast—but tonight, we’d finally caught up to what had been brewing for weeks.
The next day was Monday.
I walked into Tahoe West HQ before eight, a well needed coffee cup in hand. The building didn’t show it, but it had been the storm’s eye for seven months—shootouts, overtimes, and the win that punched our ticket to the Stanley Cup Final.
Felix Wilson was waiting upstairs in his office. He stood when I walked in, which was rare. Saturday’s win got me into his exclusive club.
“Murphy,” he said, grinning as he gestured to the chair across from him. “Hell of a win. You earned that one.”
“Thanks,” I said, taking the seat. “The guys gave me something worth earning.”
“Your team’s not only playing well; they’re believing in each other. That comes from the top.”
I inclined my head, accepting the compliment.
He leaned back, studying me for a beat. “This is more than a win, you know. Cup Final, first in franchise history. You’ve got the locker room buzzing, the town on fire, and the investors smiling. This is what we built for.”
“The climb’s not finished.”
“No,” he said, “but we’re close.”
I nodded.
His gaze held mine. “When the last coach went down three years ago, the board wasn’t sure a thirty-something could carry this weight. But you’ve proven it, season after season.”
“I wasn’t about to let you down then, and I’m not about to now.”
Felix’s grin sharpened. “Good. The climb is steeper from here. Are you ready?”
“I was ready yesterday.”