Chapter Five
Dylan
The party picked up as soon as the clock struck twelve. “Auld Lang Syne” began in unison, everyone in high spirits—even me, for the moment.
Not Hunter, though. Poor kid was asleep on his feet.
I ushered him out of the living room with a smile stuck on my face and got him settled in one of Sylvie and Glenn’s guest rooms, tucking him in before he face-planted. He was a little trooper, making it to midnight, which was more than I’d expected.
The evening wasn’t exactly enjoyable, but it had been bearable. Seeing Hunter have a good time made it worth it, even if it had earned me a scowl from Jamie.
But now that it was over, I was ready to make a quick exit. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one. Sean appeared beside me again just as I was slipping on my jacket.
“You leaving?” His smile was easy, his words a bit slurred.
I gave him a curt nod, trying to shake off the lingering feelings of regret. “Planned on it.”
“Without saying goodbye?”
“How are you getting home?” I asked, ignoring both his question and his flirtatious grin. “You didn’t drive, did you?”
“Man, I’m not going home tonight. That’s crazy.” He swayed into me. “Taking a cab to a hotel.”
“I’ll take you,” I offered before I could change my mind. “Save you the cab fare.”
His eyebrows pressed together in a way that was far too fucking sexy. “What kind of car do you drive?”
I would’ve laughed if it weren’t for the surge of pride. “A ‘69 Charger with a 440 Magnum.” My car was a thing of beauty. “It’s parked out front if you want to take a look. Maybe go for a drive before I drop you at your hotel?”
“It’s freezing and they’re calling for more snow.” He shook his head, that damn playful smile still on his lips. “You want to drive a car like that out in this?”
“I’ve got snow chains in the trunk.” I shrugged.
“Well…since you’ve got chains.” He sneaked me a conspiratorial wink. “Lead the way.”
We slipped out while the party was still in full swing. No one noticed. No one cared.
My heart was racing anyway.
Outside, the cold hit fast. Thank fuck for the remote starter. The Charger was already warm when I slid behind the wheel, engine purring beneath me.
This was my space. One of the only places I could drop the careful version of myself and just breathe.
Then Sean folded himself into the passenger seat, and every square inch of it was suddenly swallowed by his presence. He was taller than me and filled the bucket seat completely, but it was his personality taking over—audacious and unapologetic.
And fuck, I liked it. Too goddamn much.
He reminded me of how I used to be. Before I had more to lose.
“Nice.” He ran his hand over the dashboard. “If I knew anything at all about cars, this one would probably really impress me. I like that it’s shiny.”
“It’s not just pretty to look at, you know.”
“You mean there’s more hiding under the surface?”
“Isn’t there always?” I smiled, shifting into gear.
“Where are we going?”
“Not sure, but you need to put your seat belt on. It’s the law,” I demanded.
“Yes, sir.”
Fuck. Hearing that phrase roll so easily off his tongue—so natural, so smooth—was hard to ignore. It was going to take a lot more than willpower to keep this thing platonic.
Not that I had a choice.
Anything more than the flirting we’d been doing would risk not just my reputation, but the identity I’d built for myself.
The new me was the better me. The new me kept things clean, worked hard, lived for his son, and didn’t drive off in the middle of the night with strange, seductive men.
Still, there was a part of me that felt like a stranger in my own skin. It was a bit like missing a button on a favorite shirt—I kept wearing it but couldn’t help obsessing over the spot where that damn little circle should be.
And with Jamie set to marry Eric, and their opinion of me unchanged, all the effort was starting to feel like a waste of time.
Sean hadn’t taken his eyes off me since we left the subdivision. I kept mine on the road and drove toward the Bay.
“You’re not very talkative.” He shifted in his seat. “Thought that’s what we were doing out here.”
“I said driving. Never said anything about talking.”
“No talking can be fun too.” I caught his grin from the corner of my eye.
Sick of the charade and set on ending it, I turned down the first road that led to the shore and parked. Georgian Bay stretched out ahead of us, frosty and still, not another soul in sight.
“No need to play that game anymore. We’re in private.”
“But it’s so much fun.” The rough drawl of his voice pulled at my resolve. “I like watching you try to hide your interest with that exaggerated show of discomfort.”
My gaze darted to him, but I quickly glanced away again. He was too big. Too brash. And far too tempting. “It’s not exaggerated, and it’s not a show. You make me uncomfortable.”
“Why? Afraid of that side of yourself? Afraid to admit that for a split second you actually considered my offer?”
“It was more than a split second,” I admitted. “But that’s not the reason.”
“Prove it.”
“Yeah, see, that’s the problem.” I squeezed the wheel, the leather biting into my palms. “I’m sick of proving myself. I’m not afraid of who I am, and I’m tired of trying to prove who I’m not.”
He was quiet for a moment, something going tight underneath his easy confidence. “Look, I’m just pushing your buttons. I could tell you were at least curious, and I wanted to see if you’d acknowledge it. No expectations.”
No expectations. Now there was something new. Something I could get used to.
“I’ve worked hard to be someone worthy of an invitation to the Alexanders’.” I kept my eyes on the dark water of the Bay, the horizon blending into cloudy sky. “They don’t know who I used to be. They never met him. But Jamie knows.”
Fuck, she was probably still holding it against me.
“She knows I fucked around with whoever, whenever. She was off having our kid, and I was here, convincing myself it didn’t matter.” My jaw tightened. “It mattered. A lot.”
Sean said nothing but nodded along, like he understood.
“I wish I could be the kind of guy you’re looking for,” I admitted. “But I can’t. Not anymore.”
“I’m not asking you to be someone you’re not. I’m not asking for anything at all.”
The sincerity of his words washed over me, and finally, I relaxed. “Friends?”
Something almost wistful moved across his face. “Friends works.” He turned in his seat and extended his hand across the console.
It felt like a business deal. The terms were agreed on, and a handshake would seal it.
When my palm hit his, he grabbed my hand and pulled—hard, fast, and with intent.
I might have been unprepared for his maneuver, but I was a fucking cop and trained for the unexpected. It was too late to prevent his move, but not too late to counter it.
Instead of pulling back, I shoved forward, catching his drunk ass completely off guard. My forearm drove into his chest, his back rammed against the door, and I pressed my full weight into him until there was nowhere left for either of us to go.
He laughed. Straight in my face.
It should have pissed me off. Breaking an agreement two seconds after making it, then laughing about it? Drunk or not, I should have opened the door and pushed him out.
Instead, I laughed too.
He was a shameless bastard.
Somehow, he read my laughter as permission. His fist closed in the hair I’d let grow too long, and he dragged my mouth to his.
My pulse spiked. The laughter died.
He might’ve been drunk, but his kiss wasn’t sloppy or aggressive.
His mouth softened under mine, the demanding grip in my hair turning to something more desperate, and the in-your-face version of him I’d been dealing with all night disappeared.
Instantly, I turned from prey to predator.
The arm I’d used as a barrier to block him became a solid band, coiling around him. Instead of pushing him away, I caged him in. Flicking my tongue across his lips, I forced his mouth open. Forced entrance. Forced compliance.
I took what I wanted with a conviction I hadn’t felt in years. He gave in without a fight, a low groan vibrating through him as I grazed his lip with my teeth, his hand sliding inside my jacket to pull at my shirt.
But something about the desperation in his touch made me freeze. It reminded me too much of the last time I’d kissed a near stranger—in a bathroom, against a door.
And I already knew how that ended.