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When Damon drops us off at the house, David lingers in the back of the car for a moment.
“Damon can drive you home,” he says.
“I’ll have Alice drive me,” I reply. “Damon’s had a long night.”
“I can do it!” Damon says.
I laugh. “It’s okay! Thank you.”
David helps me out of the car. I can’t stop thinking about how good this moment is. He’s grinning at me, and he looks like something out of a movie. His hair is ruffled and messy from messing with it all night, and his cheeks are pink from the cold and the alcohol. He holds my hand, warming it between his, almost subconsciously, and it makes me want to lean up and kiss him even though no one is around.
I push away that thought. He holds open the door, and immediately, we see that it’s a warzone.
Alice sits in the middle, looking a decade older.
“They won,” she says simply and then stands up, grabs her purse, and walks out.
We watch her go. “Uh,” I say. “She was my ride.”
“Ugh.” Benji rises from a pile of blankets. I laugh at the makeup drawn on his face, bright blue cheeks and purple lips. “You can stay the night.”
“What?” I gasp, scandalized.
He looks at David, though, ignoring me. “I’m going to bed. Alice is the best babysitter we’ve ever had.”
Benji stomps away. I put a hand to my mouth to stifle my laughter.
“Daddy?” a voice rises from the other side of the living room.
David snickers as he pulls Angie out from a fort. “Hi, sweetie.”
He whispers to her as he whisks her off, assumedly to bed. I look around at the mess and shake my head.
I start picking things up, but thankfully, it’s just messy, not dirty. It doesn’t take long to have the toys back in the chest and the pillows fluffed, though I have no clue where to put the spare blankets.
When David comes back, it’s without his suit jacket and tie. His sleeves are pushed up. He looks around in surprise.
“You didn’t have to clean up,” he says.
I shrug. “I wanted to say goodbye.”
David frowns at me. “You… you could stay.”
I want to. I really, really want to.
“I’m not so sure it’s a good idea…”
David steps closer to me. We’re still far enough away that we can’t touch. One of us would have to make the first move.
“It’s cold… and late.”
I bite my bottom lip. “I guess…”
“Don’t you want to?” he asks it so honestly, so genuinely, that I can’t help but reply with as much truth.
“Yes.”
He holds out a hand and I can’t help it—I take it.
