Page 54 of The Maine Event

But then he’s stepping back, gently removing my hand. His chest heaves as he tries to calm himself, and confusion washes over me.Did I do something wrong?

“Dan?” I question, my voice small and uncertain.

He shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “We can’t. Not here.”

Understanding dawns as I take in our surroundings—the boathouse, Rebecca’s haven. Guilt churns in my stomach as the reality of what we were about to do crashes over me.What was I thinking, letting things go this far in a place that means so much to him?

“I’m sorry,” I say, tears pricking at my eyes. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Dan cups my face, his thumbs brushing over my cheekbones. “Don’t apologize. I want this, Rachel. I want you. But not like this. You deserve better. Not here… not now.”

His words break my heart. I know he’s trying to put me first. I know he means it. But I was completely lost in the moment. Why wasn’t he?

I reach for my discarded top, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable. Clutching it to my chest, I try to regain some semblance of composure. The silence stretches between us, thick with unspoken emotions and lingering desire.

Dan clears his throat, about to say something, when a voice cuts through the tension.

“Dad? Are you out here?”

It’s Chloe, calling from the backdoor of the house. The sound of her voice jolts us back to reality, reminding us of the party going on inside. Our responsibilities as hosts come crashing down on us, and we share a look of understanding tinged with regret.

I quickly slip my top back on, fumbling with the buttons as my fingers tremble. Dan adjusts his clothes, trying to erase the evidence of our heated encounter. We both know we can’t ignore Chloe’s call, but part of me wishes we could stay here, cocooned in this moment, forever.

“I’ll be right there, sweetheart!” Dan calls back, his voice strained.

He turns to me, apology written all over his face. “Rachel, I…”

I shake my head, forcing a smile. “It’s okay, Dan. We should get back. People will be wondering where we are.”

He nods, but the longing in his eyes tells me this isn’t over. We’ve opened a door that can’t be easily closed, and the implications both thrill and terrify me.

As we make our way back to the house, I can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. We were so close, so ready to take that leap, and now we’re back to square one. But I know Dan’s right. We can’t rush this, not when there’s so much at stake.

We pause at the backdoor, taking a moment to collect ourselves. Dan reaches out, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. It’s a silent promise, a reassurance that this isn’t the end.

Then he’s pulling away, plastering on a smile as he steps inside to greet his guests.

I smooth down my clothes and tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear, steeling myself for the rest of the evening. I know I’ll have to put on a brave face, to pretend like my world hasn’t just been turned upside down.

The sounds of laughter and chatter from the party drift through the open backdoor, a stark contrast to the intimate moment Dan and I just shared.

As I step into the kitchen, I’m greeted by the sight of Dan, ever the gracious host, offering drinks to a small group of guests. He catches my eye across the room, and for a fleeting moment, the mask slips. I see the same longing, the same unspoken desire that I feel mirrored in his gaze.

But then someone cracks a joke, and the moment is gone. Dan laughs along with the others, the perfect picture of a carefree, charming host.

I, on the other hand, feel like I’m navigating uncharted waters. Every smile, every laugh feels forced, a poor imitation of the genuine emotions coursing through me. I’m acutely aware of Dan’s presence, of the way his eyes linger on me when he thinks no one’s looking.

I pour myself a glass of wine and take a sip, letting the rich, fruity flavor linger on my tongue as I survey the room. The guests have thinned out, but those who are left are still thoroughly enjoying themselves, with laughter and chatter filling the air. I spot Chloe across the room, her face lit up with excitement as she shows off her new dance moves to a group of admiring adults.

There’s a commotion near the front door catches my attention. A man with a camera slung around his neck pushes his way past whoever opened the door, followed closely by a woman clutching a notepad. My stomach sinks. I had completely forgotten about the big announcement.

Dan’s face hardens as the journalist bombards him with questions. “Mr. Rhodes, are the rumors true? Are you making a comeback to acting?”

“I’m not answering any questions,” Dan says curtly, trying to shepherd the reporters out of his house. But the persistent reporter wedges her foot in the doorjamb.

“The public has a right to know,” she insists. “Are you planning to leave Maine and return to Hollywood?”

Anger flashes in Dan’s eyes. “This is a private gathering. You need to leave, now.”

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