24. Dash

24

DASH

Moments Earlier

The night air is cool against my flushed skin as we stand outside Aria’s building, a comfortable silence settling between us. The streets are quiet, our footsteps echoing softly on the pavement. I inhale deeply, savoring the crisp air that’s no longer tainted by the smell of Jack on my breath.

I hesitate, not wanting the night to end but knowing it has to. The building looms above us, all brick and steel and shadowy windows. It’s nothing special, but knowing Aria lives here makes it feel like the most important place in the world.

She looks beautiful under the moonlight, her faded pink hair glowing softly. I can’t resist as I lean in and press the briefest of kisses to her cheek. I want more, so much more.

Patience .

The kiss is fleeting but electric, leaving me wanting more. I can see the surprise in Aria’s eyes, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she leans closer, her breath warm against my skin.

My heart races as I take a step back, trying to regain some composure. Aria’s expression is unreadable, her eyes searching mine for answers. I want to tell her how much I’ve missed her since our last encounter, and how every thought has been consumed by the feeling of her lips on mine, but instead, all that comes out is a simple, “Goodnight.”

One chord at a time, just like learning a new song.

“Goodnight, Dash,” she replies. Hearing my name on her lips sets my whole body on fire.

She smiles a small, private smile that makes my heart skip, then she’s inside the lobby, the door closing behind her with a soft click that seems to echo in the quiet night. I step back, my eyes fixed on her window, waiting for the light to flicker on. When it does, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

My feet feel heavy as I walk away, each step a battle against the magnetic pull urging me to head back to Aria’s door. The night air, once refreshing, now feels empty without her beside me. I fumble for my car keys, the metal cool against my trembling fingers.

As I slide into the driver’s seat, her scent lingers, a ghost of her presence. I close my eyes and lean my forehead against the steering wheel, replaying every moment of our encounter. The soft curve of her smile, the warmth in her eyes, and the electricity of our brief kiss all floods back, leaving me breathless.

I start the engine, the low rumble breaking the silence of the night. As I pull away from the curb, I can’t help but glance back at her building one last time. A silhouette moves behind the curtains of her window, and my heart leaps. Is she watching me leave? Does she feel this same ache that’s settled deep in my chest?

My foot slams on the brakes.

I should leave, I know I should, but I won’t budge, and my mind’s going a mile a minute. What if she regrets the kiss? What if that bastard Noah somehow found out about tonight and is waiting for her? What if she needs me and I’m not there?

I can almost hear Quinn’s voice in my head, cracking some smart-ass joke about me turning into a lovesick puppy. Zane would probably just brood silently in the corner, while Malachi would give me that calm, knowing look that always makes me feel like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. This isn’t me. I don’t do pining and overthinking. I’m Dash, for crying out loud. I’m supposed to be the cool, collected one.

As I sit here, the engine idling, I realize I don’t want to be that person anymore—not with Aria. She deserves more than just the facade I’ve carefully crafted over the years.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I cut the engine and step out of the car. My heart pounds as I approach her building again, each step feeling both terrifying and exhilarating.

I use my key card to get inside, taking the stairs two at a time. The stairwell reeks of dust and old paint, and my footsteps echo like gunshots in the enclosed space. I reach her floor, out of breath and probably out of my mind, but I can’t bring myself to knock on her door.

Breathing hard, I rest my forehead against the door and inhale slowly. Oranges and cream linger in the air.

I know she is in there. Just existing here in this hall is enough to settle me.

My hand hovers over the door, trembling slightly. The scent of oranges and cream wraps around me like a warm embrace, and I close my eyes, imagining Aria on the other side. What am I doing here? What am I going to say?

Nothing .

Space, I need to give her space.

I slide down the wall opposite her apartment, my back pressed against the cool, slightly rough plaster.

I tell myself I’ll stay for a little while, just to make sure she’s safe. I pull out my sobriety chip, running my thumb over its familiar edges. The metal’s cool against my skin, grounding me. One day at a time, right? Well, tonight, that means one minute at a time, sitting here in this hallway, guarding the door of the woman who’s become my reason for staying sober.

I don’t know how long I sit here, lost in thoughts of Aria. The hallway is quiet, save for the occasional creak of the old building settling. I strain my ears, trying to catch any sound from behind her door, but there’s nothing.

A door opens farther down the hall, and I freeze, suddenly aware of how strange I must look sitting here. I scramble to my feet, shoving the chip back in my pocket. Another omega shuffles out, giving me a suspicious look as she heads toward the elevator.

“Evening, ma’am,” I mumble, trying to look casual as I lean against the wall. She narrows her eyes but says nothing as she passes.

Once she’s gone, I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. This is ridiculous. I’m acting like a lovesick teenager, not a grown man. I should go home and give Aria the space she deserves.

I stretch out my legs and rest my head against the wall. My thoughts are actually quiet for once, and I can’t help but wonder if that’s because I’m so close to my mate—a mate who tried to hide the bond mark from Zane on her neck, but I didn’t just see it, I felt it.

It feels like hope.

As the night drags on, my eyelids grow heavy. The hallway is quiet except for the occasional hum of the elevator or the distant sound of a door closing. Every creak and groan of the building sets my nerves on edge. I should go home, but the thought of leaving Aria unprotected makes my chest tight with anxiety, so I stay, drifting in and out of a light sleep, my senses on high alert for any sound from her apartment.

At one point, I nearly talk myself into leaving. I stand up, my muscles screaming after hours on the hard floor, and take a step toward the stairs, but then I remember the look in Aria’s eyes when I shared my story at the AA meeting, and I’m rooted to the spot. I can’t walk away. Not tonight.

I know this isn’t healthy, and I know I’m probably overstepping, but right now, with the ghost of her lips on mine and the weight of everything we shared tonight, I can’t bring myself to leave. The old Dash wouldn’t have given a shit, and he would have gone home and drowned these feelings in a bottle, but I’m not that guy anymore. I’m trying to be better and be worthy of the trust Aria’s placed in me.

Memories of past flings and one-night stands flood my mind, each one marked by a hazy blur of alcohol and fake confidence, but with Aria, it’s different. I feel truly connected to her, and the thought both exhilarates and terrifies me. With every beat of my heart, I know this is what real love feels like, and it’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.

A fragment of a melody drifts through my mind, something new and raw, inspired by tonight’s emotions. I hum it softly, letting the notes weave through my thoughts of Aria. Maybe this feeling could be the spark for a new song—something honest and vulnerable, unlike the party anthems I used to churn out.

Tomorrow, I’ll figure out how to be there for her without suffocating her and how to balance my recovery with these new, overwhelming feelings. I’ll talk to my sponsor and maybe even bring it up at the next meeting, because this—whatever it is between Aria and me—is too important to fuck up.

For tonight, though, I’ll keep watch, because for the first time in a long time, I feel like I have something worth protecting, and that something is Aria and the fragile, beautiful possibility of what we could be.

As dawn starts to break, painting the dingy hallway in soft grays and pinks, I make a silent promise to Aria, myself, and whatever higher power might be listening. I’ll do better. I’ll be better. One day at a time, one moment at a time, I’ll prove that I’m more than my past mistakes.

The future is as unpredictable as a live gig, but for once, I’m not too wasted to appreciate the thrill of it, and for now, that’s more than enough.

I can’t help but chuckle softly to myself. Who would have thought? Dash, the life of the party, spending the night on a cold hallway floor, sober as a judge, all for a girl. Then again, Aria isn’t just any girl, and maybe I’m not just any guy anymore either.

As the building starts to wake up around me, a new fear creeps in. What if Aria opens her door and finds me here? Will she see it as sweet and protective or creepy and stalkerish? The thought makes my stomach churn.

I do what feels wrong, and I slip away.