Bonus Chapter 32: Dont Make it Weird.
Scott walked her to her car. The parking lot was nearly empty now, just a few stragglers heading home. The festival lights glowed in the distance, the song still drifting through the trees.
The moon was rising above the trees. Silver light spilled across the parking lot, turning everything soft and dreamlike.
Danny’s car was parked at the far edge, beneath an old oak tree.
Scott opened her door for her. Like a gentleman. Like someone trying to do things right.
But before she could get in, “Wait,” he said.
“What?”
He turned her toward him.
His hands settled on her waist, careful at first, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed, then firmer when she didn’t pull away.
He stepped closer until her back pressed against the side of her car, the metal cool through her dress.
“Danny?” His voice didn’t shake, but he sure as hell felt it trying to.
“Yeah?” she whispered.
Her breath hitched when he leaned in just enough that she could feel it, warm against her mouth, not touching, not yet.
“Can I kiss you?” His eyes searched hers, not just asking, but checking.
Like, there was still time for her to stop him.
Like he’d survive it if she did. Barely.
Her fingers curled slightly at her sides before she lifted them, unsure where to put them, what this was allowed to be.
“Okay,” she whispered, too soft, like the word might disappear if she said it any louder.
For a second, just one, he didn’t move.
Then, Scott leaned in, and the first touch was soft.
Barely there.
A brush of his lips against hers, testing. Asking again without words.
Danny inhaled sharply, her fingers curling into the front of his jacket, holding there instead of pulling, like she was scared to ask for more.
Then, something shifted, and his hand tightened at her waist.
Her fingers curled harder into him.
The rest of the kiss wasn’t careful. It deepened in a single breath, like restraint snapped all at once.
Danny gasped against his mouth, and that was it, whatever restraint he’d had snapped.
Her hands came up fast, gripping his shoulders, then higher, into his jacket, fisting the fabric like she could anchor herself there. Like if she let go, he might disappear again.
He made a low sound against her lips, half relief, half disbelief, and deepened the kiss, angling his head, pressing her more firmly into the car.
There was no space between them now. None.
Her fingers slipped up into his hair, pulling just slightly, and his breath broke, sharp, undone, before he kissed her harder in response, like that tiny tug was permission for everything he’d been holding back.
The world narrowed. The music from the festival, the voices, the lights, gone.
Just this.
Just him.
Just the feeling of finally, finally, not being too late.
Danny’s head spun, but she didn’t pull away.
Didn’t want to.
She could feel his heartbeat against her chest.
Could feel the heat of his hands through her dress.
Could feel every inch of him pressed against her.
She’d forgotten what this felt like. What it felt like to be wanted like this.
To be held like this.
To be kissed like she was the only person in the world.
Scott’s hand slipped lower. Down her back. Curving over her hip. His fingers brushed the hem of her dress, just the very edge of it, and Danny gasped against his mouth.
Her hands clenched in his hair. Her body arched toward his.
Scott pulled back slightly. His breathing ragged. His eyes dark.
“Danny,” he whispered.
“Yes,” she whispered back, and when he didn’t say anything, she kissed him again.
Deeper this time. Harder.
He had her fully pinned against her car now, his body draped over hers. His thigh between hers. One hand on her waist, the other braced against the car door until he couldn’t take it anymore.
She could feel his hand on the hem of her dress again. Could feel his fingers playing with the fabric.
Could feel the slight tremble in his touch.
“Scott,” she breathed against his mouth.
“I know,” he said. “I know.”
But neither of them stopped.
They kissed until they couldn’t breathe. Until their lips were swollen, their hearts were racing, and their bodies were trembling.
Scott pulled back just an inch. His forehead resting against hers. Both of them breathing hard.
“We should stop,” he said.
“We should,” she agreed, but then his thumb traced her lower lip, and she was kissing him again.
“I mean it,” he said against her mouth. “We really should stop.”
“I know,” she said, and kissed him again.
“Someone could see us,” he groaned as he slipped his hand under her hem against her thigh.
“I know.”
“Anyone could walk by.”
“I know.”
But they didn’t stop. They couldn’t. It was like a dam had broken, years of wanting and waiting and pretending they didn’t feel this way about each other.
Danny’s fingers tangling in the short strands, pulling him closer, closer, always closer. Her body was pressed against his, arching into him, seeking more contact, more heat, more of what she had waited years to feel.
Scott’s hand brushed the bare skin of her thigh. Just barely. Just enough to make her crazy.
“Scott,” she gasped. “Scott, I...”
“I know,” he said again. “I know.”
His mouth moved to her jaw. Her neck. The sensitive spot just below her ear.
Her head fell back. Her eyes closed. Every nerve in her body was on fire.
“We’re going to get caught,” she whispered.
“We probably already did,” he corrected. His teeth grazed her earlobe. “I’ve been waiting a very long time for this.”
Danny pulled back. Looked at him.
His hair was a mess from her fingers. His lips were red and swollen. His eyes were dark with want.
“Me too,” she admitted. “I’ve been waiting too.”
He looked at her for a long moment, the way he always looked at her, like she was something he still couldn’t quite believe was real. His chest was heaving. His hands were trembling at her waist.
Then he kissed her again, and this one was slower, hotter, more deliberate. Less frantic.
More dangerous, if anything, because it had direction now, it wasn’t just need, it was intention.
His hand slid fully under the hem of her dress.
Not brushing this time. Not testing. His palm flattened against her inner thigh, and she stopped breathing entirely.
“Scott...” His name came out broken, barely a word.
“Tell me to stop,” he said against her jaw, his voice rough and low. “Tell me to stop and I will.”
She didn’t tell him to stop.
She turned her face into his neck and her hands fisted in his jacket, and she exhaled something that was half sigh, half surrender, and he moved his hand higher.
When he found the edge of her underwear, his breath caught audibly.
He pressed his forehead against the side of her head, eyes shut, jaw tight, like he was trying to hold himself together through sheer force of will.
“Danny,” he said, very quietly. Just her name.
“Yeah,” she whispered.
He slipped his fingers beneath the fabric.
She gasped, sharp and involuntary, and her knees buckled slightly.
His other arm came around her waist instantly, holding her up, holding her against him, his face buried against her hair while his hand moved, and she tried desperately to remember how to breathe.
“Okay?” He murmured into her hair.
She laughed, a breathless, slightly unhinged sound. “Okay is not the word I would use right now.”
He made a low sound that wasn’t quite a laugh, something rougher, and his fingers moved again, and she forgot she was standing in a parking lot entirely.
She could feel everything, the cool metal of the car against her back, the solid warmth of him pressed along her front, his hand between her thighs, patient and devastating in a way that made her want to cry or curse or both.
“You’re killing me,” she breathed against his collar.
“You’re not the only one,” he said. His voice had dropped to something barely above a whisper, rough-edged, strained. His control was something he was clearly hanging onto by a thread. “Do you have any idea what you do to me? You have any idea how long I’ve thought about this?”
“Don’t talk,” she said. “Don’t....” Her breath caught on a soft sound she couldn’t stop. “Don’t stop.”
He moved his fingers, and she made the sound again, louder this time, muffled against his shoulder.
“Easy, Danny,” he murmured. “Easy. Someone’s going to hear you.”
“You told me someone could see us,” she breathed. “You told me that, and you kept going.”
“I kept going because you kept not stopping me.”
“I’m still not stopping you.”
“I noticed.”
She tipped her head back and he kissed her throat, her jaw, the corner of her mouth, and she clung to him with both hands and let herself just feel it, let herself feel all of it, the want and the relief and the years of trying not to want this and the years of pretending she was fine and all of it, every last bit of it, dissolving under his hands in a dark parking lot under an oak tree while the last of the festival lights glowed through the trees.
When she finally shattered, it was quiet.
Just a sharp exhale against his neck, her fingers clenched in his collar, her whole body shaking once, hard, then going soft and heavy against him.
He held her up easily. Kept his face pressed into her hair. His breathing was ragged.
She heard him exhale, slow, deliberate, like a man trying very hard to be good.
“Scott,” she said softly.
“Don’t,” he said. “Don’t say anything. I’m barely holding it together over here.”
She laughed, a real laugh this time, exhausted and happy and a little bit wrecked.
She could feel the tension in his body, the way he was holding himself still, keeping his hands careful now, folded at her waist like that was the only safe place for them.
He pulled back just enough to look at her.
His expression in the moonlight was something she would remember for a long time, undone, open, wanting, and underneath it all, something steady. Something that had always been there.
He kissed her again, soft this time. Careful.
His thumb moved over her cheekbone.
“You need to go,” he said.
But they pulled apart when a car drove by.
Both of them breathing hard. Both of them laughing at the absurdity of it, two grown adults making out in a parking lot like teenagers at prom.
“Tuesday,” Scott whispered.
“Tuesday,” she whispered back.
He leaned in. Kissed her again. Soft this time. Quick. A promise.
Then his forehead dropped to hers. His breath still uneven.
“Danny,” he said quietly.
“What?”
His hand back on the hem of her dress. His fingers brushing against her thigh. He seemed to realize it at the same moment she did, and he pulled his hand away like he’d been burned.
“I don’t want you to leave,” he admitted. “I want you to stay, or I want...” He stopped. Shook his head. “I want a lot of things I probably shouldn’t want.”
Danny’s heart stuttered in her chest.
“What kind of things?” she whispered.
Scott laughed, a rough, unsteady sound. “The kind of things I’ve been thinking about for years.” His eyes met hers. “I’m trying to be good. I’m trying to do this right. But God, Danny, you make it hard.”
“Literally,” she swallowed, trying to make it sound like a joke, but her throat felt tight. Her whole body felt tight.
“You need to go,” he said. “Before I do something foolish. Like, ask you to come home with me. Or do something worse in my truck.”
He gestured to where his truck was parked a few spaces away.
Danny laughed. A breathless, shaky sound. “Is that a joke?”
“It’s an honest joke,” Scott said. “I’m joking. But I’m also not. I’m being honest about the fact that if you stay here much longer, I’m going to lose whatever self-control I have left and start begging you.”
She reached out. Brushed her fingers against his jaw. “Scott.”
“Yeah?”
“I hope things get more weird.”
His eyes widened. He remembered. That night at the bonfire, when he’d kissed her and she’d pulled back, and he’d said, “Don’t make it weird.”
Scott laughed. A real laugh. Surprised and guilty.
Then Danny kissed him again, hard and hungry and desperate. Her hands in his jacket, up his back, her body pressed against his, her whole heart in the kiss.
And this time, when Scott kissed her back, it was like something snapped. All the careful control he’d been holding onto. All the gentlemanly restraint. Gone.
His hands were everywhere, her waist, her back, very far under the hem of her dress. He was touching her like he couldn’t get enough, and honestly, he couldn’t.
Danny gasped against his mouth.
Her hands clenching in his hair. Her body arching into his when he lifted her by her backside.
“I love you,” Scott said against her lips. “I love you so much. I’ve loved you for years. I was just too fucking dumb.”
“Scott...” she moaned.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, kissing her jaw. “You’re so beautiful, and you’re here, and you came back, and I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you.”
“Scott, wait...”
“I know.” He pulled back, quickly letting her back down. “I know it’s a lot. I know I’m saying too much. But Danny, I’ve been holding this in for so long now...”
“I love you too,” she said.
His breath caught. “What?”
“I love you too, you idiot,” she whispered against his lips, “Obviously I still do.”
He kissed her again. Softer this time. Slower.
Like they had all the time in the world, and Danny was starting to forget that she told Jen she wouldn’t go home with him.
When they finally pulled apart because more cars were starting to leave, Danny was trembling. She felt like she’d run a marathon, her legs tight. Her lips were red and sore. Her heart was pounding.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been kissed. I’m a little out of control.”
Scott smiled. His thumb traced her swollen lower lip.
“When was the last time you were kissed?”
Danny hesitated. “Nate.”
Something flickered in Scott’s eyes.
Not jealousy, exactly. Something more complicated.
“When you just went out?”
“No, a while back... It’s been a while.”
“Did you...” Scott paused. “Did you sleep with him?”
Danny held his gaze. “Yes.”
Scott nodded slowly. Processing.
“It’s not like I can talk,” he said finally. “I’ve slept with a lot of girls. More than I’m proud of.”
“Jen told me you really did the whole college thing,” Danny muttered.
She could feel herself getting uncomfortable. The past was the past, but it still stung nonetheless, even if you didn’t want to care.
Scott winced. “Yeah. I did.”
“Not that it matters,” Danny said quickly. “It’s in the past. I just figured you deserved to know. You know, full disclosure and all that, since he is your friend and we just ended, whatever it was we were doing.”
Scott smiled ruefully. “If I had to admit to all my exes, I’d want to kill myself.”
Danny laughed. A slightly uncomfortable laugh. But a laugh nonetheless.
“I never stopped thinking about you,” Scott said quietly. “Not once. That one kiss we had, it was better than anything else I’ve ever experienced. Anything.”
“That’s hard to believe when we haven’t slept together yet,” Danny kissed him again before he could reply.
She didn’t want to dwell on it; she had already sorted all those feelings out years ago.
She wanted to be here. Now. With him.
They kissed for a long time, under the oak tree. Under the moonlight. Against her car, unable to send her home, the time ticked by much too fast. But now they didn’t rush, as if he knew that if he could just slow down, he could push his limits of control, but his lower body was beginning to ache.
So, finally, Scott pulled back. His breathing was ragged, his expression pained as he adjusted himself against his zipper.
“You need to go,” he said. “I really mean it. You need to leave now.”
“Scott.”
“Danny.” His hands were on her waist, but he was pushing her gently toward the car door as he opened it. “If you don’t leave, I’m going to do something stupid.”
“In your truck?” Danny teased weakly.
Scott laughed. A pained sound. “Yes...”
“Can I see your truck?” she mused.
He groaned against her hair. “Danny.”
“Sorry.”
“You’re not sorry.”
“I’m not sorry,” she agreed, and that was the last straw.
He opened her car door wider. Practically pushed her into the driver’s seat. “Scott?”
“I’m going home,” he said. “My home. Alone. Where I will proceed to not sleep at all because I’ll be thinking about you all night.”
Danny smiled, staring at him like he hung the moon.
“Tuesday,” she said.
“Tuesday,” he agreed.
He leaned in. Kissed her one last time through the open door. A quick, soft kiss that promised more.
Then he stepped back. “Goodnight, Danny, go home.”
She started the engine. Her hands were shaking on the wheel.
“Good night,” she said as he closed the door, and she drove away.
She looked back with a massive grin and watched him standing there, watching her go. And she knew, he’d be there on Tuesday.
He’d be there for every Tuesday after that.
For the first time in years, Danny felt she no longer had to hope he would choose her.
