Chapter 57
AUSTIN
“I’m so full,” Melody groaned as we walked out of the restaurant.
“You’re not ready to go home, are you?”
She grinned. “I won’t turn into a pumpkin just yet. What’s on your mind?”
“One more stop,” I said as we settled into the car after dinner.
“Really?”
“The night is still young.” I grinned at her. “Trust me?”
She pretended to think about it, tapping her chin. “I suppose I do. You haven’t steered me wrong yet.”
“That’s my girl.”
I gave Matt the address, and fifteen minutes later we pulled up in front of one of my favorite spots in the city, a club that managed to be upscale without being pretentious, with a dance floor that was always packed and a DJ who actually knew what he was doing.
“Dancing?” Melody asked, eyeing the line of people waiting to get in.
“You did mention wanting to burn off that chocolate dessert.”
She laughed. “I said no such thing.”
“Well, I want to dance with you. Humor me.”
The bouncer recognized me immediately and unhooked the velvet rope without hesitation. I heard a few grumbles from the line, but I ignored them, keeping Melody close as we headed inside. The bass thrummed through the floor, and colored lights swept across the packed space.
“This is not what I expected,” Melody said, having to raise her voice over the music.
“Good unexpected or bad unexpected?”
“Good.” She turned to face me, her body already starting to move to the rhythm. “Definitely good.”
I led her onto the dance floor, and everything else fell away.
She moved against me, and I thought I might lose my mind.
I couldn’t keep my hands off her body. I was keeping it PG-13, but damn, she was a temptress.
I knew every inch of her body. I knew what those luscious curves felt like in my hands.
It was making me stiffen just thinking about it.
“You’re staring again,” she said, her lips close to my ear.
“Can’t help it. You’re the most beautiful woman in this room.”
She rolled her eyes but was smiling. “Such a smooth talker.”
“Just telling the truth, baby girl.”
We danced through song after song. She laughed when I spun her, stumbled when her heel caught, and I caught her, pulling her flush against me.
“Careful,” I murmured.
“Where’s the fun in that?”
I could see phones out, people definitely recording us or taking pictures. A couple of months ago, I would have played it up, made sure we looked good for the cameras. But tonight, I didn’t give a damn who was watching or what they’d say about us online. This wasn’t for them. This was real.
Melody wrapped her arms around my neck as the music slowed slightly, and she pressed close, her cheek against my chest. I could feel her heart beating—or maybe that was mine. Hard to tell when we were this close.
She tilted her head back to look at me. Her lips were slightly parted, her cheeks flushed from dancing and heat and happiness. She was absolutely radiant. And then she kissed me.
It wasn’t performative or calculated. She kissed me like we were alone. Either she didn’t notice or didn’t care there were cameras pointed at us from every direction. The sudden realization hit me so hard it almost knocked me over.
I love you.
Three words. Simple. Honest. True. I wanted to say them.
I wanted to tell her that she had changed everything.
That I couldn’t imagine my life without her anymore.
But this wasn’t the place. Not on a nightclub dance floor surrounded by strangers and cameras.
Not with bass thumping so loud I would have to shout.
When I told Melody I loved her, it would be somewhere private. Somewhere intimate. Somewhere she would know I meant every word. I kissed her back. My hands cupped her face. She made a sound against my lips that went straight through me.
“Austin,” she breathed when we finally broke apart.
“Yeah, baby girl?”
“Take me home.”
We stayed for one more song, then two, unable to pull ourselves away from each other.
But eventually, I led her off the dance floor, never letting go of her hand as we navigated through the crowd.
More than one person tried to stop us for one reason or another.
I didn’t want to be a dick, but I wasn’t interested in posing for photos.
I kept moving, focused on getting Melody outside and alone.
The cool night air hit us as we spilled out onto the sidewalk around two in the morning. We were both sweaty, breathless, and laughing about nothing in particular. Melody’s hair had come loose, and her makeup was slightly smudged. She looked completely perfect.
“That was so much fun,” she said, still catching her breath.
“Yeah?” I pulled her close, not caring that we were both overheated and damp with sweat.
“The best.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed me again, quick and playful. “Thank you for tonight. All of it.”
“Thank you for coming with me.”
Matt pulled up with the car. We climbed into the back, and without asking Melody what she wanted, I told Matt to take us to the hotel penthouse.
“Let’s go to my place,” she said.
I looked at her. “You sure? My place is closer and we can slide into the hot tub.”
“Yours is beautiful, but it’s also a hotel. Mine is…” She searched for the word. “Cozier. More home-like. Is that okay?”
“Baby girl, anywhere you are is home.”
Her expression went soft, and she leaned against me as Matt changed direction toward her townhouse. By the time we got to her place, the adrenaline from dancing was wearing off, and we were both starting to feel the full weight of the night.
Melody fumbled with her keys, giggling as she tried to get the right one in the lock.
“Need help?” I asked, amused.
“I’ve got it, I’ve got it.” She finally managed to open the door. “See? Totally fine.” Inside, she kicked off her heels with a groan of relief. “Oh my god, that feels amazing.”
I pulled off my jacket and loosened my tie. “You want to change? Get comfortable?”
“In a minute. I’m starving.” She padded toward the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”
“I could eat.”
“Perfect. We’re making snacks.”
I followed her into the kitchen, where she started pulling things out of cabinets. “We’re going to make cookies. The break-and-bake kind because I’m too tired for real baking, but they’re still delicious.”
“I’ve never made cookies before,” I admitted.
She turned to stare at me. “Never?”
“Never.”
“Not even as a kid?”
“We had staff for that kind of thing.”
She shook her head, but she was smiling. “Well, you’re about to learn.”
It became clear I had no business messing around in a kitchen, but she helped me with the patience of a saint.
“We need a cookie sheet,” she said.
I stared at her blankly.
She laughed. “That cupboard. Black. Flat.”
I opened the cupboard she nodded toward and pulled out a few options.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“You’re learning.” She opened the cookie-dough tube and started breaking off pieces. “Now we just put these on the pan, about two inches apart. They spread when they bake.”
I helped her place the dough rounds, making sure they were perfectly spaced. This part, I could handle. When the pan was full, she slid it into the oven and set the timer.
“Twelve minutes,” she said. “Now for the second round of snacks while we wait.”
“There’s more?”
“I’m really hungry.” She pulled out a pot. “Ramen. The fancy kind with actual vegetables and good broth, not the instant stuff.”
I watched as she filled the pot with water and set it on the stove. “This is easy enough,” I said.
She laughed. “You’re so cute. I love that you’re a complete novice in the kitchen.”
I moved closer, backing her against the counter. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called cute before.”
“What have you been called?”
“Hot. Sexy. Insufferable. Asshole.” I grinned. “But never cute.”
“Well, you are. Especially when you’re confused about boiling water.”
I kissed her because I couldn’t not kiss her. She tasted like wine and chocolate. I was rapidly losing interest in food. I couldn’t get enough of her. She was addicting.
“The water is boiling,” she murmured against my lips.
“Let it boil.”
“Austin, we’re going to burn down my kitchen.”
Reluctantly, I pulled back. I watched as she added the ramen to the water, along with vegetables and what looked like actual real ingredients.
I watched her move around the kitchen adding seasoning, tasting the broth, adjusting as needed. She made it look effortless. I loved that we could go from fine dining to this homey, comfy feeling in her kitchen.
Melody was a woman of many talents.
The timer went off for the cookies. I pulled them out. They were slightly too brown on one edge where I’d placed them too close together, but otherwise perfect.
“Not bad for your first attempt,” Melody said, inspecting them.
“I had a good teacher.”
We let the cookies cool while the ramen finished, and then we carried everything to the living room—two bowls of ramen and a plate of warm cookies. Melody turned on the TV and pulled up something called her “comfort shows.”
“What’s a comfort show?” I asked.
“A show you’ve seen a million times that you put on when you want to feel cozy and relaxed. Mine are sitcoms mostly. Things that don’t require much thinking.”
“Like what?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Friends. Gilmore Girls. Downton Abbey.”
I had no idea what she was talking about, but I went along with it. “Cool.”
“Do you want to laugh, cry, or feel nostalgic?”
I frowned. “Laugh, please.”
She turned on the show, giving me a brief rundown of characters, like who was banging who, and informing me the first couple of seasons were the funniest. I happily went along for the ride.
The ramen was actually incredible, and I told her so.
“It’s just ramen,” she said, but she looked pleased.
“No, it’s good. Really good.”
We ate and watched, making commentary on the show between bites. Melody knew every episode by heart, could quote lines before they happened. It was endearing as hell.
When we finished eating, she set the dishes aside and curled up against me. I could feel the exhaustion catching up to her, the long night finally taking its toll.
“Feet,” I said, patting my lap.
“What?”
“Put your feet up. I’ll massage them. Those heels looked killer on you, but they probably killed your feet too.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
She shifted so her feet were in my lap, and I started working my thumbs into her arches. She groaned, her head falling back against the couch cushions. “Oh my god, that feels amazing.”
I worked out the knots, taking my time, while she made increasingly satisfied sounds. On the TV, the characters were dealing with some kind of mishap involving a couch and a stairwell. Melody’s eyes were starting to drift closed.
“Don’t fall asleep yet,” I said. “You should change, get ready for bed.”
“In a minute,” she mumbled. “This is too good to stop.”
I kept massaging, watching her face relax completely. Her breathing started to even out, becoming deeper and slower. Within minutes, she was asleep, her head tilted to one side, one hand resting on her stomach.
I carefully extracted my hands from her feet and grabbed the throw blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over her. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake, just snuggled deeper into the cushions.
I should wake her, get her into bed properly. But she looked so peaceful, and I didn’t want to disturb her.
Instead, I just sat there, watching her sleep. This woman had turned my entire world upside down. She’d made me want things I never thought I would want. Made me believe in things I stopped believing in. Made me into someone I actually liked being.
The words I’d held back on the dance floor rose up again, demanding to be spoken.
“I love you,” I whispered into the room.
She didn’t stir, didn’t hear me. But saying it out loud made it real in a way thinking it hadn’t. I loved Melody Stephens. Completely. Impossibly. Irrevocably.
I pulled her feet back into my lap, adjusted the blanket more securely around her, and settled in to watch whatever comfort show episode came next.