Chapter 25 Afterglow
Afterglow
Dylan
The next morning, Dylan pulled into the Rise and Grind parking lot and glanced sideways at Ali, sitting prim and proper in the passenger seat.
Hands twisting together and pulling at her hemline.
She looked like sunshine in her sleeveless Lilly Pulitzer dress— pink and green floral print, the kind that made her blue eyes look even brighter.
A white headband pushed her hair off her face, her soft golden curls tucked behind her ears, and she had on little pearl earrings that probably came from her mama’s jewelry box.
She was all buttoned-up Southern charm, but he knew what her mouth had done last night— and god, if that didn’t mess with his head a little.
He was undercover in a baseball cap, brim pulled low and a MBU hoodie. He would probably pass out from heat exhaustion in it, but he wanted Ali to get coffee with him before he left town.
“You sure you’re not gonna get coffee on your cute dress?” he teased, letting his hand brush her bare knee before she opened the door.
“I have Shout Wipes in my bag,” she said, then added with a smile, “and backup shoes in my desk. I’m not new at this.”
They stepped inside the café, the air cool and filled with the smell of espresso and baked goods.
She tucked into his side just slightly, almost unconsciously, and he loved the quiet way she leaned into him in public— like maybe she wasn’t ready to hold his hand across town, but she wanted to let him know she was his.
They waited in line, and Dylan took the opportunity to poke at her nerves.
“You always this weird the morning after? That’s changed since college.”
Ali blinked up at him, startled. “I’m not being weird.”
“You’re being shy. It’s cute.”
“I have a meeting at nine,” she deflected, smoothing the front of her dress like it might suddenly wrinkle.
He leaned down and whispered, “You’re glowing.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“Shut up.”
“You look like someone who had her mouth full last night.”
She gasped, eyes wide. “Dylan.”
He bit back a grin. “Just saying.”
She swatted his arm and finally laughed, her whole face softening. That sound always undid him.
They were next in line when the door opened behind them. The bell jingled, light and cheery, but his body stiffened before he even turned around.
Voices.
One in particular. His hand immediately went to her back. Protective instincts taking over.
“Well damn,” Daisy said sweetly behind them. “This is unexpected.”
Ali froze beside him. She didn’t turn. Didn’t speak. Her hands clutched the strap of her purse so tight her knuckles went white.
Dylan turned slowly, shielding her with his body.
Daisy stood a few feet back, sunglasses propped on her head. Laila beside her blinked, not yet realizing what she’d walked into.
Ali stepped forward to order, her voice too quiet to carry. Dylan stayed close, paid without letting her reach for her card, and handed her the latte.
Then Daisy spoke again.
“Ali.”
Ali didn’t look up.
“Ali, please. Just for a second—”
Dylan rounded on his sister, his voice low and firm. “No.”
Daisy blinked. “I wasn’t—”
“I said no. Don’t do this. Not now. Not here.”
Ali finally turned, shoulders back, chin trembling. “I have to get to work.”
She said it like she was trying to keep from shaking. Like if she just stayed on script— coffee, commute, meeting— she’d be fine.
Dylan stepped between them. “We’re leaving.”
Daisy looked like she might cry. “You’re not even going to let me say anything?”
“Not to her.” His voice was sharp. “If you want to talk to me, you know how to find me. But you keep her out of it.”
Laila stayed silent, watching all three of them like someone who’d just stepped into the middle of a play without knowing the script.
Dylan took Ali’s elbow gently, leading her out the door. She let him.
They didn’t speak until they reached the Bronco. He opened her door, helped her in, then got behind the wheel and just… sat there. Letting her breathe.
She stared out the window, coffee untouched in her lap. “Well,” she said, voice hoarse, “that was fun.”
He glanced at her. “You okay?”
“I don’t know.”
“Want me to drive you to work? I’ve got time.”
She gave him a tiny nod. “Yeah. I just kinda need my car.”
“Can Ash pick you up later?”
“Okay, yeah. Or I'll get Abigail to drop me off at home.”
He reached over and laced their fingers together on the center console. She didn’t let go.
Dylan pulled up to the curb outside the pastel-bricked building where Ali worked, his Bronco idling in the loading zone as early morning traffic streamed by. She’d been quiet the whole ride, fingers absently tracing her cup, her coffee untouched.
He hated seeing her retreat like that. Hated how fast she curled into herself when the past showed up and demanded space she didn’t owe it.
“I’m sorry,” he said, finally breaking the silence.
Her eyes lifted. “It’s not your fault.”
“I still hate that it happened. She shouldn’t have come over.”
Ali nodded but didn’t speak.
Dylan leaned over the console. “She’s leaving today. Headed back to Atlanta. With Laila and their kids.”
That seemed to land. Her shoulders dropped half an inch.
“I wouldn’t have brought you there if I thought she’d show up,” he added. “I meant what I said. You come first.”
Ali looked at him then, eyes big and glassy, like she was trying to believe him.
He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then rested his palm lightly on her cheek. “Hey.”
“Hmm?”
“I’m proud of you,” he said softly. “I know this morning sucked, but you handled it the best you could.”
Ali blinked fast. “You always say the right things.”
“Only when it’s true.”
She gave him a wobbly smile, then reached for the door handle.
“Wait,” he said, voice low.
She turned, confused, just as he leaned in and kissed her.
Not a polite goodbye peck. Not a quick, closed-mouth thing.
A long, slow, lips-parting, breath-stealing kiss.
The kind that made time slow down.
The kind that made her melt toward him, hand bracing against his chest, lips soft and sweet under his.
The kind that said you’re mine, without rushing her for more.
When he finally pulled back, his voice was rough.
“Text me when you’re done today. I’ll be back soon. I promise.”
She nodded, dazed. “Okay.”
He grinned. “And drink your coffee, Al. It’s the antidote to your little weird vibe you have going on,” he teased her.
She laughed a little, rolling her eyes. “There’s no weird vibe. And I forgot to grab a straw,” she finished, rolling her eyes.
“No problem, babe.” He leaned across the car and grabbed a straw from the glove compartment, “I got you.”
He watched her walk up the steps in her little dress and headband, confident again, like maybe the kiss helped her remember who she was.
Two meetings, three spreadsheets, one very weird office birthday cake. Survived.
You?
Stopped by my parents this morning to see my family before leaving town.
Interstate chaos, but I made it to Daytona. Just stopped to get gas.
Still thinking about that good bye kiss though ??
Oh, that wasn’t a good bye kiss. That was a “please don’t make me walk into the office feeling lonely” kiss.
Also… random question. Who’s Laila?
Laila?
Daisy’s wife. Why?
Wait— Daisy’s married…
…to a woman?
I didn't know that.
And they have kids?
Yeah. For about five years now. They adopted three years ago. A brother and sister. Liam and Lillie.
Wow. I had no idea.
I don’t mean that in a mean or like gossipy way— I just never heard anything about her life after I left MB. I guess I just didn’t care what she did after I left.
You’re not being gossipy. It makes sense you’d be surprised. It was a shock to me too at first, but Laila’s really good for her. Grounds her.
I’m glad to hear that. It’s just… a lot to process, I guess.
Yeah. There’s a lot about Daisy that people didn’t see back then.
Was she angry with me? For not seeing her? I mean, was it kind of my fault?
No baby. I won’t let you think like that. Nothing was your fault. Just because things may have been more than we realized doesn’t erase what you went through. I want you to know that.
Thank you.
It means a lot, honestly.
I’ve spent a long time wondering if anyone else remembered how bad it really was.
And I still don’t want to talk to her.
I remember.
And I hate that I didn’t do more to stop it.
But I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere.
I’m still getting used to letting myself believe that… but I know.
And you never have to do something you are uncomfortable with. Not ever. One day at a time, Al.
Deal.
Careful QB. You keep talking like that and I’m going to start thinking you want more than just wall things.
I’m counting on it. ??
He smiled at the screen, thumb hovering for a second before he finally locked it and tossed the phone into the passenger seat.
The pump clicked behind him, the tank full.
He returned the nozzle, slapped the gas cap shut, and climbed back into his Bronco, the familiar creak of the leather seat grounding him.
He could’ve flown back from Savannah— everyone asked why he didn’t.
But it was only five hours to Orlando. Less if traffic was light.
And truthfully, he loved to drive. The rhythm of the interstate, the solitude of his vehicle, the silence between playlists and pit stops— it gave his mind room to settle. Reset.
The sun was high now— hot, relentless. Daytona heat had its own kind of bite, different from the coastal softness of Peach Cove and Honeyshore. He wiped his palm across his brow, cranked the A/C, then reached for his phone again— it felt like a Brantley Gilbert kind of moment.
“More Than Miles.” Of course.
The guitar licks filled the cabin as he pulled back onto I-95, merging into traffic with one hand on the wheel and the other on the gearshift. He popped the sunroof open, letting the sky pour in. A long stretch of I-4 still lay ahead, but the road didn’t feel heavy.