I take two of the flutes from Leo and bring one to Dane. Our fingers brush when I hand it to him, and his eyes hold mine a beat too long. I swear I can see a whole debate going on in his head.
“Thank you,” he says.
It’s just two words, but my body reacts to his gravelly tone as if he’s caressing me. Yep, I want them both.
There are still a couple hours until midnight, and we settle on the couch with me between them. Leo’s arm stretches behind my shoulders, his fingers playing with the ends of my hair. Dane sits with his ankle crossed over his knee. The TV is low with a New Year’s broadcast. Fireworks are already popping somewhere outside. People are eager.
I take a sip of champagne. Past Alice wouldn’t be drinking champagne in this gorgeous house.
I suddenly realize I can’t do this.
I can’t sit here making small talk while the clock ticks down on whatever the hell we are.
“So,” I say, and my voice is steadier than I expected. “Tomorrow is January first.”
Leo’s fingers go still in my hair. Dane’s gaze sharpens.
“Aye,” Leo says.
“The arrangement was through the holidays. That was the deal.” I stare at my champagne because if I look at either of them while they are telling me this is over, I might start bawling. “So I’m wondering what happens now.”
“Alice,” Dane says, and the way he says my name makes me look up.
His eyes are steady. “I need to say something first.”
My pulse kicks hard against my ribs. Oh fuck, this is going to hurt.
He’s quiet for a second, and when he speaks, his voice is low. “I came here for Christmas because that’s what I do every year. Leo opens his house to me, and I spend a week pretending I have somewhere to belong.”
He pauses.
“I didn’t expect you.”
Oh god.
“Since my divorce, it’s just been consulting contracts, hotel rooms, and airports.” He’s not looking away from me. “I told myself it was freedom. That I didn’t need roots because roots were what went wrong with Claire.”
His thumb traces the rim of his champagne flute.
“But this week? I woke up every morning with you between us. And I didn’t want to leave.” His voice drops. “The thought of going back to my apartment made my chest hollow.”
“Dane,” I whisper.
“I’m not done.” His eyes don’t waver. “I don’t want to go back to my empty apartment and my suitcase. You changed me.” He swallows. “I know that’s a lot to put on someone I’ve known for a week, but I’ve never been good at pretending.”
My eyes are stinging. My champagne flute is shaking in my hand.
Holy shit.
I turn to Leo. He’s watching me with warmth under all that intensity. Fingers are still in my hair. He’s not surprised by any of this.
“You knew,” I say. “You knew he was going to say this.”
Leo’s mouth curves. “Dane and I talked. We’ve been discussing a lot of things while he’s been here.”
“And?”
He takes the champagne flute from my hand and sets it on the coffee table before taking both my hands.
