“Probably,” I teased, then shrugged. “I miss you already too.” I kept my voice low, leaning closer over the counter.
He gave me a look that was hard to read even now—even with him this open. Then, in one soft, reckless move, he bumped his forehead against mine, eyes closing as he stayed there for a second. His hand tightened around mine before he pulled away. “Bye, Jessie.”
I tried to smile, but I’m pretty sure it came out a little sad. “Bye, gorgeous,” I whispered.
Danny bit his lip, gave me one last helpless look, then let go of my hand and backed away. He stopped to grab his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. When he finally turned, my heart dropped, already bracing myself to watch him walk out.
“Are you kidding me right now?” Malia’s voice snapped me back.
“Sorry, Chef. I’ll get back—”
“No,” she cut in. “That’s how you say goodbye to him? After staring at that boy with heart eyes for the past two months? That was it?” She looked at me like I’d personally offended her.
My heart thudded. I swallowed thickly.
“Jay, go the fuck after him, man,” Trevor yelled. “Don’t be an idiot,”
The whole kitchen joined in—my team, all of them hollering, nudging me away from the line, telling me off.
“I have orders,” I said with a nervous laugh.
“I’ll cover. Just fucking go, Jay!” Trevor shot back.
I looked to Malia. She rolled her eyes and waved me off, already calling out another order.
Okay. Let’s run after him.
I washed my hands as fast as I could, yanked off my apron, and shoved through the line as hands thumped encouragement against my back. The second I cleared the kitchen, I broke into a jog toward the front desk, silently praying he was heading out through the main entrance.
I cut through the service hallway and into the main lobby, my heart still pounding with adrenaline. The space opened up all at once, sunlight filtering through the arches, greenery everywhere. Danny stood near the front desk, bag slung over his shoulder, mid-conversation with one of the receptionists. He looked like he was just about to leave, so I picked up my pace, nerves crashing into me all at once.
I was still in my chef jacket, still shaking a little, because this was public—too public—and for a split second I wondered what I’d do if he pulled back. It didn’t feel like he would. Not after showing up at the restaurant. Not after everything we’d already shared. But you never really know.
Then he looked up.
And all that doubt just… evaporated. Right there, in that moment, I just knew.
I couldn’t let him leave yet.
I didn’t give myself time to think. I crossed the distance and caught his shirt, pulling him in to kiss him right there in the middle of the lobby, in front of staff and guests and anyone else who happened to be looking. Somewhere behind us, a voice dropped, a laugh cut short—the lobby didn’t stop, but it shifted.
His hands came up instantly—not pushing me away, but gripping the fabric of my jacket and holding me there as his lips parted for mine.
My stomach went absolutely feral as I kissed him, every nerve lighting up, and I had to fight the smile breaking across my face because—fuck—it was perfect. A movie-star kiss if I’d ever seen one.
When I pulled back, I stayed close, my forehead resting against his.
“I’m not as good as you at putting myself out there,” I said. “But you make me want to change that.”
His hands tightened in my jacket, the smile on his face bright. “You’re doing pretty great right now.”
He kissed me again, slow and lingering, like he was savoring it, and I let my heart get away from me without the least bit of resistance.
He could have it.
Own it.
Do whatever he wanted with it.
