9. Sienna
9
Sienna
I stare at the ceiling, heart still hammering in my chest, as the sunlight filters in through a crack in the curtains. My whole body feels languid, heavy in the aftermath of what just happened. The sheets are warm against my skin—and they smell faintly of Dane’s cologne, that subtle, woodsy scent that makes me feel safe and alive all at once.
I let out a slow breath, replaying everything in my mind. Just hours ago, I never would have believed I’d be lying here like this, tangled up in my sheets. He’s gone to fetch something—maybe a towel or a glass of water, he said. And I’m left alone with my thoughts, which are running wild.
We slept together. The realization hits me again and again, a thrilling, terrifying echo. I’m eighteen; I’m an adult. There’s nothing illegal about it. But that doesn’t stop my heart from pounding with worry. Because what will my parents think? Mom might be heartbroken at the idea of me with someone so close to her age—someone she’s known for years as a family friend. And Dad…
I swallow hard, shutting my eyes against the wave of dread. My father has always trusted Dane. They’ve been business partners, confidants, practically brothers in everything but blood. How on earth will Dad react to the news that his best friend is now with his daughter?
My heart races just imagining that conversation. The last thing I want is to come between my father and someone he cares about. I can’t bear the thought of ruining their friendship, of causing a rift in my own family. And yet, here I am, feeling more certain than ever that I love Dane. That I don’t want to be without him.
It’s a hurricane of fear and longing inside me. I press my palms over my face, as if I can hide from the world—and from the consequences. But even as my worries crowd in, a flutter of warmth spreads in my chest. Because despite it all, I do love him. And as scary as it is, that realization feels right. It feels like everything was leading up to this moment.
A soft click of the door pulls me out of my thoughts. I push myself up on one elbow, the sheets sliding across my skin. Dane steps in, closing the door behind him carefully, as if afraid someone might overhear. In his hand, he carries a warm washcloth. When he meets my eyes, his expression softens. I see so much tenderness there—it makes my throat tighten.
“Hey,” he says quietly, as though we’re sharing a secret.
I give him a tentative smile. “Hey.”
He sits down on the mattress, the bed dipping under his weight. Gently, he presses the warm washcloth between my legs, wiping away the evidence of our shared moments. It’s such a simple gesture, but it sends a wave of emotion surging through me—care, devotion, protectiveness.
“Thank you,” I murmur, my voice catching.
His hand stills, and he brushes a strand of hair away from my face. “You don’t need to thank me,” he says. Then his brows pull together, and I can see the concern flickering in his dark eyes. “You all right?”
I hesitate, finally nodding. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”
He slides the washcloth over my skin with delicate care, then sets it aside. His other hand finds mine, our fingers lacing. “About your parents,” he guesses, his tone subdued.
My eyes meet his, and I see understanding there. “I can’t stop worrying about what they’ll say—or do—once they find out,” I admit. “Especially Dad. The two of you have such a long history. I’d hate to ruin that.”
Dane squeezes my hand, his gaze never wavering. “I know. I’ve thought about it too. I’m not going to pretend it’s going to be easy.” He exhales, a small furrow appearing between his brows. “Your father might be angry. Hurt. He might even feel betrayed.”
My stomach clenches at the thought, but I nod. “Exactly. And I don’t want him to resent me—or you—because of this.”
Dane lifts my hand and presses it gently against his cheek, his eyes closing at the contact. “I love you,” he says softly, and the words vibrate through me, making my heart stumble. “I’ve tried to fight it, tried to ignore it, but I can’t anymore. You’re everything to me.”
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, a mixture of relief and joy. I love him too—I’ve never been more certain of anything. “I love you,” I whisper back, my voice trembling.
He opens his eyes, and his expression is resolute. “Then let me handle your father. I’ll talk to him, explain how I feel—how serious I am about you. I want to be with you, Sienna. Always.”
A wave of emotion makes my chest feel tight. “Really? You’d do that for me?”
“Not just for you,” he corrects gently. “For us. Because I want you in my life permanently. I want to build something real with you, not hide away or keep this secret.” His grip on my hand tightens, warm and sure. “If your father can’t accept it at first, then that’s something I’ll have to deal with. But I’m not walking away from you.”
I blink back the threat of tears. This is all I’ve been desperate to hear—that he isn’t just giving in to some fleeting temptation. He wants me, truly and fully, and is willing to fight for what we have. The relief is like a rushing tide, filling me from head to toe with lightness.
I squeeze his hand back, searching his face. “I’m scared,” I admit, my voice trembling just a little. “But I’m ready to stand by you. I don’t want to lose you.”
A small smile curves his lips, and he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “You won’t,” he murmurs. “We’ll figure it out together.”
I slide my arms around his waist, resting my head against his chest. His heartbeat is steady beneath my ear, a comforting rhythm. For a while, we just sit there in silence, tangled together, letting the reality of what we’ve done—and what we’re about to face—sink in.
Eventually, he pulls back, just enough to look me in the eyes. “Whatever happens,” he says, “I want you to remember that you’re not alone. We’ll talk to your parents. I’ll make sure they understand—this isn’t some fling. This is real. This is love.”
I feel warmth flood through me at his certainty. I nod, and a glimmer of hope breaks through the anxiety. “Okay,” I whisper.
He smiles, brushing a gentle hand across my cheek. “You trust me?”
“Of course I do.” I lean in to kiss him softly, pouring my heart into it. When we break apart, I feel like I’m floating, like some weight has been lifted.
He rises from the bed, taking my hand in his. “Then let’s go get cleaned up properly,” he says with a playful raise of his brows. “We’ve got a lot to plan, a lot to discuss. But we have all the time in the world.”
I let him lead me toward the adjoining bathroom, my fingers curled around his. Somehow, as I walk with him, I know that this is exactly where I want to be—by his side, ready to face whatever comes next. Because in the end, love is worth every risk. I don’t know how my parents will react, and I can’t pretend it won’t be messy. But I do know we’ll face it together. And that’s enough.
I glance up at him, catching his reassuring smile, and I can’t help but smile back. There’s a gentle promise in his eyes, one that tells me we’ll find our happily ever after—no matter what. I hold on to that promise, letting it fill me with a confident, steady warmth.
Because this is the start of something I’ve only dreamed about: a future where Dane and I are together, openly, completely in love—and free.