Page 76 of Mr. Charming

“Congratulations,” I said first.

A slight blush landed on his cheeks, and he nodded. “Thanks. It was a great season.”

I’m sure he was there to support Ford, but I know there was an extra dose of satisfaction to have Jana and Kane see him in the best shape of his life with another Cup win under his belt. He always harbored such hurt from that trade.

“You look really good,” I said.

His gaze fell down my body, and it felt like a caress. “You do too.”

We stood there, and I’m sure more than a few sets of eyes were watching us. We were the couple who didn’t make it. The ones who should’ve made them all appreciate what they had even more.

“God, I hate this,” I admitted.

He ran a hand through his hair. “Are you happy?”

There was a lot I could cover in my answer, but I went the simple route. “Yeah. You?”

Tweetie shrugged. “I can’t complain.”

“Tweetie!” Ford shouted from across the room.

Tweetie didn’t look up right away. Instead, his eyes stayed on me. I knew his unsaid words because I felt them too.

How did we get here? How the hell did we end up like this?

I didn’t have an answer.

He cupped my elbow and held my gaze. “We’ll catch up later?”

“Sure. Go.” I nodded toward Ford.

Tweetie studied me for a second before his hand left my elbow, and he crossed the room. All of his old teammates huddled around him, congratulating him on winning the Cup.

Saige came up next to me, holding a sleeping Nora. “You okay?”

“It’s good to see him smiling and happy.”

We watched them for a while before Aria, Saige’s other daughter, barreled into my legs, winding around to my back.

“Hide me,” she said. “Xander is chasing me.”

For the rest of the night, I’d catch Tweetie with his eyes on me, but he was the life of the party as usual. That hadn’t changed in the years we’d been apart. He was on the dance floor with all the kids or at the bar with his teammates. Part of me was happy watching the old Tweetie in action, the one from before all the shit that went down four years ago. I didn’t need anything more than that, but I should’ve been prepared, because with the way he kept looking at me, it made it clear he wasn’t going to just leave it at the quick conversation we’d had when he arrived. So as the night dwindled down, he asked me to dance, and I didn’t have it in me to refuse.

He held me close, our entwined hands between us, his hand never leaving my lower back. I didn’t lean my head on his chest as I once would have, and he didn’t kiss the top of my head. But that invisible string that always pulled us together was still drawn tight, alive and present.

I’m not sure how it happened. I think he asked me to share a ride, and in the back of the rideshare, our pinkies met, and then he was holding my hand.

“Will you come back to my hotel?” he whispered.

That’s why I’d tried to keep my distance these past four years. Something in my gut told me we weren’t over. That maybe the timing wasn’t right the first time around, but at some point, it would be. Even though the idea of setting myself up for the unbearable pain if things didn’t work out scared me, we were both in better headspaces, so I accepted.

“Okay,” I said, meeting his gaze.

We calmly walked through the lobby, my hand in his. Everyone who saw us probably thought we were just any other couple. They didn’t know our past and how big of a step we were taking.

I didn’t know what to expect, but as soon as Tweetie had me in his room, my back was against the wall and his lips were on mine. It felt as if I’d been straining to breathe for four long years, and one kiss from him, and suddenly I could take a deep, cleansing breath.

“I’ve wanted you out of this dress since I saw you tonight.” He found my zipper, and I unbuttoned his shirt, the last few buttons flying off because of my impatience. “Goddamn, how have I gone this long without you?”

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