The drive back was quiet, but not uncomfortable. A lingering warmth settled between us, unspoken but present. It was a mix of quiet contentment and something more—a hesitant longing that neither of us acknowledged aloud. It felt comforting, yet edged with a nervous anticipation, as if we were both aware of the line we were toeing but unwilling to step back from it. By the time we stepped inside, I still carried the lightness of our evening with me, the laughter from the night echoing in my mind. I'd like to believe that we had a lot of fun—at least I did. The lingering laughter from the night echoed in my mind as I stepped inside, the cozy warmth of the apartment greeting us. I slipped off my shoes and hung my jacket slowly, deliberately, trying to stretch the moment a little longer. Deep down, I knew I didn't want this night to end.
I hesitated by the entryway, my gaze drifting to him as he moved further into the living room. My feet felt rooted to the spot, my heart racing slightly as I waited—hoped—for him to say something, anything, to make me stay.
Kieran turned, noticing my pause. His head tilted slightly, eyes scanning my face as if trying to read the hesitation in my stance. He lingered for a beat longer than necessary, his fingers brushing against the back of the couch before his expression softened, and the faintest smile touched his lips. "You're not calling it a night already, are you?" he asked, his voice casual but with an undertone that made my breath catch.
I shook my head, a small smile creeping onto my face. "Not yet."
He leaned against the back of the couch, his arms crossed as he studied me for a moment. "Good. Because I was thinking... how about one last drink before bed?" His tone was light, but there was something about the way he said it that made it impossible to refuse.
"Your signature cocktail again, or something different this time?" I asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.
Kieran grinned, pushing off the couch. "I think you deserve something new. Let me surprise you again."
As he walked toward the kitchen, my eyes followed him. The way he moved was effortless yet deliberate, his broad shoulders and confident stride drawing my attention like a magnet. He rolled up his sleeves with practiced ease, revealing strong forearms that flexed subtly with every motion. I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry, as a slow warmth crept up my spine. It was ridiculous how something so simple could hold my attention, but there was something about the effortless way he moved that made it impossible to look away. His profile caught the warm glow of the kitchen lights, and for a moment, I was struck by the sharp angles of his jawline and the way a hint of a smile played on his lips, as though he knew exactly the effect he had.
I walked up to him, my voice soft. "Do you need help?"
Kieran glanced at me, his smile widening slightly. "I think I've got it under control, but you're welcome to stay and supervise. Your call."
"If you say so," I said with a mischievous smile, leaning against the counter. "You're doing great, Kieran."
He raised an eyebrow, glancing at me with a smirk as he chopped. "Appreciate the vote of confidence."
I watched him for a moment, then pointed at the cutting board. "Maybe cut that a little smaller," I said teasingly, crossing my arms like I was critiquing a professional chef.
Kieran paused mid-chop, shaking his head with mock exasperation. "Should've known you'd be this kind of supervisor."
I grinned, leaning closer. "You're doing amazing, sweetie," I joked, my voice dripping with faux encouragement.
He laughed, the sound warm and unguarded. "Oh, so now I'm getting reality TV mom vibes? At this rate, I'm expecting you to bring out a scorecard next."
"Don't tempt me," I shot back, my laughter mixing with his as the playful energy filled the kitchen.
He handed me the cocktail he had been preparing, the cool glass pressing into my palm. I took a sip, the refreshing flavors bursting on my tongue. "It's really good," I told him, surprised but impressed. "Crazy to think I have a personal bartender in this house."
Kieran smirked, leaning casually against the counter. "Don't get used to it. I'm not taking special requests... yet."
We chatted all night about nothing and everything, the conversation flowing effortlessly, filled with laughter and stories. Suddenly, my phone buzzed, Nate's name flickering on the screen. I debated whether to answer or not, but guilt gnawed at me. I gave Kieran an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I have to take this. Thank you for tonight," I said softly, my voice tinged with regret, before leaving to answer the call in my room.
"Anytime," he murmured under his breath, though the words felt heavier than he'd intended.