Chapter Three
The sound came from below, muffled noises that cut through the silence of his apartment. Dakota sat up in bed, his heart already racing. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and checked the time. Two forty-three in the morning.
Another sound, louder this time. Something heavy hitting the floor.
Dakota swung his legs out of bed and stood there for a moment, listening. The building was old, and sounds traveled through the walls and floors easily enough that he’d learned to tune most of them out. But this was different. This was coming from the taffy shop.
He pulled on his jeans from earlier, not bothering with a belt, and crept toward the door in his socks. His phone went into his front pocket. The hallway was dark when he opened the door, just the faint glow of an exit sign at the far end casting everything in red.
The stairs creaked under his weight no matter how carefully he tried to step. Dakota winced at each sound, his pulse hammering in his ears. Maybe it was just Kivani. Maybe he was working late. But why would he be making so much noise?
At the bottom of the stairs, Dakota paused at the door that led into the shop. Light spilled out from under it, golden and warm. He pressed his ear against the wood and heard movement inside, footsteps, something scraping across the floor.
He should go back upstairs. Call someone. Let someone else deal with whatever this was.
But his hand was already on the doorknob, already turning it slowly. The door opened with barely a whisper, and Dakota slipped inside.
The shop looked like a tornado had torn through it.
Display cases stood open, their contents scattered across the floor.
Boxes of taffy were stacked haphazardly on the counter, some tipped over with wrapped candies spilling out.
The copper pulling machine sat at an odd angle, like someone had moved it and not bothered to put it back properly.
Dakota’s eyes tracked the mess, his mind trying to make sense of it. Then he saw Kivani.
He was crouched on the floor near the back counter, gathering up wrapped candies and tossing them into a box.
His hair was disheveled, sticking up in several directions, and he wore sweatpants and a tank top that showed off his arms. He looked up when Dakota took a step forward, and his eyes went wide.
“Dakota? What are you doing down here?”
“I heard crashing.” Dakota looked around the shop again, taking in the full scope of the disaster. “What happened?”
Kivani stood up, brushing his hands on his sweatpants. “I’m doing inventory. Or trying to. I knocked over a whole shelf of stock boxes like an idiot.”
“At three in the morning?”
“Couldn’t sleep.” Kivani bent down and picked up another handful of candies. “Figured I might as well be productive.”
Dakota walked farther into the shop, stepping carefully around the scattered candy, looking at Kivani, who was watching him with an expression Dakota couldn’t quite read.
“This is a lot of mess.” Dakota’s voice was soft, swallowed up by the quiet shop.
“Yeah.” Kivani dropped another handful of candies into the box. “I’ve got it under control though. You should go back to bed.”
Dakota looked at the floor, at the hundreds of individually wrapped pieces scattered everywhere. Kivani would be down here for hours trying to clean this up alone. “I could help.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t have to.” Dakota pulled his hair back and twisted it into a knot at the base of his skull, securing it with the elastic he kept on his wrist. “But I’m awake now anyway.”
Kivani studied him for a long moment, and Dakota felt that same awareness from earlier wash over him, the sense of being truly seen. “Okay. Thanks.”
They worked in silence, moving around each other in the small space. Dakota started on one side of the shop, gathering candies by flavor and color, organizing them into neat piles on the counter. His fingers moved quickly, sorting and stacking, finding a rhythm in the repetitive motion.
Kivani worked on the other side and Dakota found his attention drifting, his eyes tracking the way Kivani’s shoulders flexed when he reached for something on a high shelf.
The way his forearms looked under the pendant lights, strong and defined.
The way he moved with such ease through the space, like he knew every inch of it by heart.
Face hot, Dakota looked away and focused on his pile of strawberry taffy.
They met in the middle of the shop, both reaching for the same scattered box at the same time. Their hands collided, and Dakota quickly pulled back. Kivani picked up the box and handed it to him, their fingers brushing again.
“Thanks,” Dakota mumbled. He took the box and turned away, his heart thundering.
The silence between them felt different now. Not comfortable exactly but charged with something Dakota didn’t want to name. He could feel Kivani’s presence behind him, could sense when he moved closer or farther away without even looking.
Dakota crouched down to gather a cluster of candies that had rolled under one of the display cases. When he stood up, Kivani was right there, close enough that Dakota could smell his soap, something clean and subtle. Dakota’s breath caught, and he took a step back, hitting the edge of the counter.
“Sorry,” Kivani said, moving to give Dakota more space. “Didn’t mean to crowd you.”
“It’s fine.” Dakota’s voice came out higher than normal. He cleared his throat and set the candies on the counter, arranging them in careful rows.
They kept working. Dakota organized boxes while Kivani restocked the display cases, and slowly, the shop began to look normal again. The floor was clear. The counter was neat. The copper pulling machine sat in its proper place.
Dakota was lining up the last few boxes when he felt Kivani’s eyes on him. He looked up and found the guy leaning against the far counter, arms crossed, watching with an expression that made Dakota’s stomach do a full somersault.
“What?” he asked, his hands stilling on the box he was holding.
“Nothing.” Kivani didn’t look away. “Just watching you work.”
“Why?”
“You’re very methodical. Everything has to be perfectly straight.”
Dakota looked down at the boxes he’d arranged, all lined up with their edges flush, labels facing the same direction. “Is that bad?”
“No. It’s cute.”
Heat crawled over Dakota’s face, over his ears, and down his throat. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear and tried to think of something clever to say, but his mind went completely empty.
Kivani pushed off the counter and walked over to where Dakota stood. He looked at the boxes then at Dakota, and his mouth curved into that smile that made Dakota’s knees feel unreliable. “You did a good job. Thanks for helping.”
“It’s no problem.” Dakota’s hands fidgeted with the hem of his sweater. “I wasn't sleeping anyway.”
“Bad dreams?”
“Something like that.” Dakota thought about Bennett’s phone call, about the way his hands had shaken at dinner. “My brain doesn't shut off very well.”
“I get that.” Kivani ran a hand through his already messy hair, making it stick up even more. “That’s why I’m down here reorganizing my entire inventory at three in the morning.”
Dakota smiled despite himself. “At least you’re productive when you can’t sleep. I just lie there and spiral.”
“That sounds miserable.”
“It’s not great.” Dakota looked around the shop, at the neat displays and organized stock. “But this helped. Gave me something to focus on.”
“Good. I’m glad.” Kivani’s smile was soft. “You should probably get some rest though. It’s late.”
“Yeah. Probably.” Dakota didn’t move. Neither did Kivani. They stood there in the quiet shop, close enough that he could count the man’s eyelashes if he wanted to. He very much wanted to, but forced himself to take a step back then another. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“See you tomorrow.”
Dakota turned toward the door, his heart beating too fast. He made it three steps before he felt Kivani’s fingers wrap around his wrist, gentle but firm. The touch sent electricity racing up Dakota’s arm, across his shoulders, then down into his groin. He froze.
“Dakota.”
Slowly, Dakota turned around. Kivani was still holding his wrist, his thumb resting against Dakota’s pulse point. Could the guy feel how fast his heart was racing? Could he tell what that touch was doing to him?
“Thank you,” Kivani said. His voice was quiet, sincere. “Really. You didn’t have to help, but I appreciate it.”
“It was nothing.” Dakota’s voice came out breathless. He could feel every point of contact where Kivani’s fingers pressed against his skin, warm and solid and impossible to ignore.
“It wasn't nothing to me.”
They stood there for another moment that stretched too long, Kivani’s hand still wrapped around Dakota’s wrist. Then Kivani let go, his fingers sliding away slowly, and Dakota felt the loss of that touch like a physical thing.
“Goodnight, Dakota.”
“Goodnight.”
Dakota walked to the door on legs that felt like they might give out. He didn’t look back, even though he wanted to. The stairs seemed endless, each step taking effort he didn’t have. His wrist still tingled where Kivani had touched it.
Inside his apartment, Dakota closed the door and leaned against it, his eyes falling shut.
His heart was still racing, his skin still buzzing with the memory of Kivani’s fingers.
He touched his own wrist, pressing his thumb against the same spot Kivani had held, trying to recreate the feeling. It wasn't the same.
Dakota pushed off the door and walked to his bed, falling onto it face-first. The sheets were cool against his flushed skin. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, watching shadows play across the cracked plaster.
He replayed the pre-dawn hours in his mind.
The way Kivani had looked crouched on the floor, gathering candies.
The way he’d smiled when he called Dakota cute.
The way his hand had felt wrapped around Dakota’s wrist, warm and confident and deliberate in a way that made Dakota’s entire body light up.
This was dangerous. This feeling building in his stomach, spreading through his limbs, making him want things he shouldn't want.
Dakota had come here to escape, to hide, to figure out his life without complications.
Getting involved with someone, especially his landlord, was the exact opposite of keeping a low profile.
But god, the way Kivani had looked at him. The way he’d touched him.
Dakota rolled onto his side and pulled his pillow against his body, hugging it tight. He could still smell the sugar-sweet scent of the taffy shop clinging to his clothes. Could still feel the ghost of Kivani’s fingers on his skin.
He had feelings for Kivani. Real, dangerous, terrifying feelings that were growing stronger every time they were in the same room. Dakota knew he should shut this down, should keep his distance, should protect himself from getting hurt again. But something told him it was already too late.