Page 73 of The One Night Dash
I follow her through the house, looking for anything that hints at what my gut is telling me as I follow her up the stairs, her bare legs peeking from beneath my shirt. The sight damn-near buckles me.
The first door on the landing opens to her room. She backs in, cautious, and I follow, pulling the door shut behind me with a quiet click and locking it.
“You,” she starts, eyes bright, “played amazingly tonight, Dash. A hat trick?—”
I don’t let her finish.
I cup her face, tilt it up, and crash my mouth to hers. It’s deep, scorching, a kiss that’s all hunger, need, and pent-up hours of pretending I could wait. She gasps against me, her fingers fisting in the lapels of my jacket, and I press closer, devouring the sound.
When we finally break, both of us breathing hard, I don’t let go. I rest my forehead against hers, eyes shut, heart pounding like I’m still on the ice.
“God, Noelle,” I murmur, voice rough. “You undo me.”
“And you terrify me,” she says, barely a whisper, and I pull her into a hug.
“Let’s make a deal, sweets.”
She looks up dazed and blinks. “A deal?”
“Yeah. A game. I tell you something deep, you tell me something deep. No edits. No bullshit. We’ll call it”—I pause, smirking faintly—“the vault.Once it’s in, it’s locked. Just you and me know about it.”
She searches my face like she’s waiting for me to crack a grin, to let her off the hook. But I don’t. I need to do this.
She toys with the hem of my shirt, nervous. “And what if I don’t want to play?”
“Then I’ll just keep feeding you my secrets until you do.”
Her laugh is soft, incredulous, but she nods. “All right, Sterling. You go first.”
I inhale, steadying myself, because this isn’t locker room banter. It’s the shit I don’t say out loud. “You saw the festival tonight, right? Harbor lights, the boats, the cider stands?”
Her eyes widen, but she nods. “Briar?”
I nod, drawing in a breath. “My parents met there. Dad was the golden boy from an old-money family—Harrington royalty. Mom was the girl serving cider at one of the stalls, trying to make tuition money. He saw her, walked away from all the girls lined up in sequins and pearls, and picked her. Just like that.”
Noelle’s lips part, but I keep going, because once I start, I can’t stop.
“They hated it—his parents. Called her beneath him, a mistake. They cut him off. He didn’t care. They got married, anyway, had me, and for a while, it was good. Better than good.” My throat tightens, but I force it down. “But Mom made him visit sometimes. Said he’d regret it if he didn’t. He took me a few times, just me. I’d sit in that big cold house while they looked at me like I was dirt, not relation. When I caught on to why Mom wouldn’t go, I stopped going. I think I was like five or six.”
I rake my hand through my hair, pushing harder now. “He stopped seeing them, too. However, he and his brothers occasionally met up and went on ski trips. When he died, the old bat didn’t know about the trips and was pissed. Said they betrayed her. But she didn’t go after them; she went after Mom. Accused her of trapping him, stealing him, destroying the family legacy. I told her it was her fault. Flipped out.”
Her hand cups my cheek, “Brave even then.”
I push into her touch. “She fucked with me hard after that. I didn’t make leagues around here, got treated like shit at school. Mom moved us, never asked for a cent. Mom got married, and she backed off. Didn’t take long to realize he was a dick and uh, divorced. Worked her ass off raising me and my sisters.” I shake my head. “I didn’t like the idea of you being here, one of these fat-wallet fucks finding out we have a connection and trying to ruin us, or you, or?—”
“I’m fine. I survived my first family function without knowing I had Dad to go home to, unscathed.”
“Tell me more.”
She tells me how an ex cheated on her, that her stepfather and his father were best friends, and her stepfather was her ex’s godfather. That she broke up with him, and then, a day later, he OD’d, and that everyone blamed her for his mental state. She moved in with her father until college started, and he sold his place in Michigan and moved to NYC because she was always fascinated with it. Her mom, stepdad, and their sons, her brothers, stayed in Michigan until they finally moved here. She wants a family again, but isn’t sure it can ever be the same or if she can ever truly forgive everything that transpired. She does it through tears, and I won’t lie and say I don’t get misty-eyed, too.
“Hand to God, Noelle, I’m not going anywhere.”
Tears rolling down her cheeks, she fists my shirt and pulls me toward her, burying her face in my chest, silently sobbing as I hold her closer.
“I’m strong. I am good. It’s just being here and?—”
“Let’s leave.” I thumb away tears from her pretty face. “Let’s you and I just head?—”
