back last week after all—there was no metaphor about life or invitation in that.
“All right, Dani.” He pushed the door open and heaved himself out. Without looking back, he made for the house. Whatever she needed, she clearly didn’t need it from him.
Sean wasn’t sure why he’d expected anything else. His firefighting abilities aside, he’d rarely been anyone’s solution to a problem. And once he’d even fucked firefighting up so thoroughly that all these years later he still dreamed about it like it happened yesterday.
Standing on his little back porch, he fished for his keys in his pocket, which was when he realized that he no longer heard the sound of Dani’s car. Except, he also hadn’t heard her back out.
Giving in to the pull between them, he looked back—and found her coming up the sidewalk. Straight for him.
Chapter Thirteen
As Dani watched Sean walk up the path to his house, guilt swamped her. She hadn’t meant to take the hurricane spinning inside her out on him. But she had—because he saw too much of her. Why did he have to see her the way he did? The real her. The one that was an utter mess inside. No one else had picked up on the way she’d freaked out at Tara and Jesse’s news, yet she had no doubt that Sean Riddick had.
Dani’s first reaction to her friends’ announcement had been happiness. She knew how hard Jesse and Tara had fought to be together, and she was thrilled that they’d found their happily ever after.
But a split second later, Dani had been absolutely blind-sided with a roiling mess of sadness, grief, guilt, and anger. Not to mention jealousy—and wasn’t that just awesome. Dani wasn’t sure how she’d managed to act normal for even a second after the storm of emotion had hit, destroying the walls she’d been trying to build around everything she felt about the upcoming anniversary. Apparently putting on masks and burying herself in routines and applying the force of sheer willpower weren’t enough to keep all that roiling emotion at bay.
It was just that, what Tara and Jesse were sharing…it was something she was never going to have again. Instead, all she had in front of her was a series of never-ending anniversaries marking all she’d lost. And the utter freaking finality and bleakness of that realization had nearly leveled Dani.
That she’d had even an iota of care for herself amid their wonderful news made her the shittiest of friends, and then she’d bitten Sean’s head off to boot. Dani sighed, but it didn’t take any of the weight off her shoulders.
Against the light of his back porch, Sean’s big silhouette stood out. Masculine. Strong. Sexy.
Steady.
That was something else Dani hadn’t realized about Sean Riddick. For all his smart-ass snarkiness, sarcasm, and joking around, Sean was steady. Dependable and reliable. There when you needed him. Willing to put others before himself. The first one to celebrate his friends’ accomplishments. Always genuinely happy for the good things that happened to other people. And in those ways, he was, once again, more than she’d given him credit for.
Without thinking, she’d killed the engine and gotten out of the car. Debated for no more than half a second. Sean stopped before opening the back door, and then Dani was operating all on instinct.
She went after him.
As if they were magnets, his gaze cut to her, making her feel seen again.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“You don’t owe me any apologies, D.” Sean jingled the ring of keys in his hand.
“I do.” She sighed.
“Wanna tell me what’s wrong?”
“Sometimes the past…” She hadn’t intended to stop there, but she got tangled up in not wanting to tell him the specifics but wanting to tell him something.
“Yeah. I know all about that,” he said, like she’d explained it in full detail.
Dani twisted the ring on her middle finger. “So anyway.”
“You comin’ in?” Sean pulled open the screen door and slid his key into the lock. The interior door swung inward. He flicked on the hall light.
Dani wanted to go in with him. She really wanted to. For all her what-were-they, should-she-be-doing-this back-and-forth, her desire for Sean was the one thing not in question. But she also didn’t want to take advantage of him. Or take his head off again.
“You want me to?” she asked.
Leaning against the door jamb, Sean held the screen door open with one big boot. He’d gone casual tonight in a pair of well-worn jeans and a white button down cuffed at