Chapter 14
luna
There was no hesitation with Dirks. I slept at his place every single night, no matter how late it got, no matter the hour-plus drive. I spent most of my days in the city anyway, catching up with old yoga friends, shooting content, doing photo gigs. It made sense.
The past week had been the best I’d had in a long time.
“I cannot believe I’m up at six in the morning, going to a market with you, before your game tonight,” I muttered, rubbing my eyes.
Dirks laughed, the sound rich and unbothered, his long blonde hair falling into his face as he adjusted the woven strap of the ridiculous wicker basket he insisted on bringing.
“It’s a holiday market,” he said, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. “You’re lucky I didn’t make you wear antlers.”
“You still could,” I said with an eye roll.
His eyes sparkled with that shit-eating grin he wore so well. God help me, I loved it.
We wove between booths, steam from food stalls curling in the freezing air, the scent of cinnamon and roasted chestnuts trailing behind us. He reached for my glove-covered hand as we walked, our fingers linking easily.
“Are you going to bring someone with you tonight?” he asked.
My stomach pinched. Nova.
She’d been here the whole time, but I hadn’t said anything. Dirks hadn’t asked where I was living, just accepted that I’d stayed with him some nights. I told him I had a place in the North Shore, and we left it at that.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Just me.”
There was still so much I hadn’t told him.
Scarlette had her winter showcase coming up soon, and then Ollie would be in town.
Things would feel more grounded once that happened.
For the moment, this early morning market, basket full of overpriced jam and novelty tea, and the warm brush of his hand against mine had to be enough.
We were halfway through the second row of vendors when I felt a light tap on my shoulder.
“Sorry,” someone said. “Are you . . . oh my god—are you Luna Pierson?”
I blinked and turned. A girl—probably mid-twenties, bundled in a puffer coat and holding a cup of hot cider—was staring at me like I was someone she’d only ever seen through a screen.
I nodded, a little stunned. “Yeah. Hi.”
She lit up. “I follow your content. I didn’t think I’d ever actually run into you, but— I just wanted to say something.”
Dirks stepped slightly to the side, giving us space but still close enough to let me know he wasn’t going anywhere.
The girl smiled, then pointed to herself. “I’ve always loved working out. I’ve always felt strong, but I don’t have a conventional body, and for so long, that made me feel like I didn’t belong in those spaces. You changed that for me.”
My breath caught.
“I mean it,” she said, eyes glassy. “Your videos, your honesty . . . the way you move, and show up, and take up space like you’re allowed to . . . it’s changed my perspective. You’ve changed my life.”
Tears prickled my eyes. It wasn’t the first time someone had said something like that. Probably wouldn’t be the last, but it never got old.
“Thank you,” I murmured. “Seriously. That means everything to me.”
She smiled, nodding like we shared some kind of secret. “Keep doing what you do.”
She ducked away, disappearing back into the crowd while I stood there for a second, blinking fast, heart full.
When I turned back around, Dirks was staring at me.
There was full-on awe in those big blue eyes of his, like I’d just levitated off the sidewalk.
His stupid basket was still in his hand and his blonde hair was falling into his face in soft waves.
Tight jeans, charcoal sweater, navy jacket.
He looked like a walking, brooding catalog ad . . . and he was looking at me.
“What?” I asked breathlessly.
He shook his head slowly. “I can’t believe that.”
“Come on,” I laughed, brushing it off even as my heart kept pounding. “That must happen to you. You’re the captain of the damn Chicago Ravens. The city’s beloved golden boy. Don’t tell me fans don’t worship at your skates.”
“No, Luna. I haven’t changed anyone’s life.” He stepped closer, eyes still locked on mine. “What I just saw? That was special.”
Before I could say a word, he leaned in and kissed me.
No—claimed me.
He gripped the back of my neck with one hand and curled the other around my waist, drawing me tight against his chest.
“You’re more than magnetic, Luna. You’re gravity,” he whispered.
Heat licked up my spine, and I laughed softly, shaking my head as I curled my fingers into the collar of his jacket. “God, you’re dangerously good at this.”
He grinned and kissed me again, slower this time. The world around us, the vendors, crowds, holiday chaos—it all faded.
For the first time in forever, I didn’t feel scattered. I felt held. We pulled away from each other…reluctantly.
“The first time someone recognized me, I was out with Will at one of his games,” I said, my gloved fingers brushing against Dirks’s as we walked.
He nodded, listening quietly as the cold wind stung the tip of my nose and turned my cheeks pink.
“He didn’t yell or anything. Just . . . made this face like it made him uncomfortable. The more popular I got, the more he hated it. Hated that people noticed me more than him.”
Dirks glanced at me, brow creased.
“He wasn’t cruel,” I added quickly. “Not outwardly, but he wasn’t proud. It was like my success annoyed him.”
“You don’t talk about him. Aside from the breakup. That’s it.”
I nodded slowly, eyes focused on the crowd ahead. “There’s a lot I don’t talk about,” I admitted.
We’d reached the edge of the market, the street quieter here. He stopped walking, turned to face me fully, that damn basket still in one hand.
“Why, Lune?” he asked gently. “Tell me.”
I looked up at him, and for a moment, I didn’t say anything.
How could I explain that I was a ship full of sealed-off compartments, full of things that weren’t only mine to carry?
That Jeremy and I were more than just lovers—we were foster siblings.
That Nova was here.
That she had Scarlette now.
That there were things I’d endured when I was too young to understand them, things that shaped who I became. That staying silent was how I survived. How I protected people. How I learned to protect myself.
“That’s how I grew up. Holding things close.
Locking them down. Not out of pride or to push people away .
. . but because sometimes silence was the only control I had.
” My throat tightened. “To be honest, it wasn’t until you—and .
. . Jeremy—that I started to peel back those layers.
Started to feel like I could. Which is why when you called . . . it was so easy to come back.”
He rubbed his chin and nodded.
“It was so easy to stay, because I feel like myself with you. I don’t have to perform. I don’t have to armor up. I can just . . . be. That’s rare for me. Really fucking rare.”
He dropped the basket gently and reached for me, hands sliding along my jaw, thumbs brushing just beneath my ears. He pressed his forehead to mine.
“I don’t need your secrets. I want you. However you show up. That’s enough for me.”
Eventually, my secrets would catch up to him—the ones I was protecting, the ones that weren’t even mine to tell. He might not need the details now, but one day, he’d feel the edges.
And they’d cut.
I opened my eyes and nodded. “You’re right. Which is why your patience is . . . ” I let the sentence hang, searching for something light, something less like drowning. “Honestly? Legendary. Saint-level. Put-you-on-a-stamp level.”
He snorted. “A stamp?”
“A forever stamp,” I said solemnly. “The kind people hoard in their junk drawer.”
Dirks laughed, eyes crinkling, and pulled me tighter against him.
“You’re wild,” he murmured into my hair.
“Maybe,” I breathed.
I pulled back just enough to meet his eyes.
“Come on. We’ve got to get your basket of lavender jam and overpriced Christmas soap back to your place before your big game.”
He smirked. “Don’t disrespect the basket.”
“I’m just saying.” I teased him, grabbing his hand again as we started walking. “If you show up late to the arena carrying artisanal marmalade and rosemary hand cream, I feel like your team’s gonna have questions.”
“Jealousy isn’t cute on you.”
I grinned. “Neither is that basket, but here we are.”
He bumped my shoulder lightly. “You’re lucky I like you.”
“No,” I said, lacing my fingers with his. “I’m lucky you’re letting me stay.”