Aria pov
"I’ll never stop fighting for us." His eyes were fierce. "Never stop choosing you. Never stop being grateful that you gave another chance."
The intensity was building between us, that magnetic pull that always seed to exist. But then our food arrived, breaking the mont, and we both laughed.
"We’re terrible at this," I said. "The light, casual first date thing."
"We’re terrible at casual, period." He served us both pasta. "We’re intense people who had an intense past and are building an intense future. Might as well embrace it."
"As long as we embrace the good parts too," I said. "The laughter and the comfortable silences and the"
"Normalcy?" he suggested. "The boring, wonderful normalcy of just being together?"
"Exactly."
We ate and talked, and sowhere between the main course and dessert, I realized I was having fun. Real, genuine fun. Not the adrenaline-fueled excitent of our usual drama, but the warm, comfortable enjoynt of being with soone I loved.
"What are you smiling about?" Damien asked.
"You." I didn’t hide it. "Us. This. I’m having a really good ti."
"Yeah?" His whole face lit up. " too. Best first date I’ve ever had."
"How many first dates have you been on?" I asked curiously.
"Honestly? Not many, most won" He paused. "Most won were interested in Damien Blackwood the billionaire. Not Damien the person. So I’d take them to expensive restaurants, flash so money around, and that would be it. Very transactional."
"That sounds lonely."
"It was." He looked down. "I was lonely for a long ti, Aria. Even before our wedding fell apart. I’ve been lonely since my mother died, really. Until you."
"You’re not lonely anymore," I said firmly. "You have Noah. You have . You have—a life, a real one."
"I know." He smiled. "And I’m never taking it for granted."
After dinner, we walked along the waterfront, his jacket around my shoulders because I’d forgotten mine. The city lights reflected on the water, couples strolled past, and everything felt perfectly, wonderfully normal.
"Thank you," I said, tucking myself against his side. "For tonight. For trying. For caring enough to do this right."
"Thank you for letting ." He kissed the top of my head. "And Aria? This is just the beginning. I have so many more dates planned. Museums and concerts and that terrible mini golf place Noah keeps talking about."
"Mini golf?" I laughed. "Really?"
"Family date," he explained. "I have a whole list. So just us, so with Noah, all designed to create the mories we should have made before."
"I love that." I stopped walking, turning to face him. "I love you."
"I love you too." He cupped my face gently. "More than I ever thought I could love anyone. You and Noah—you’re my whole world."
We stood there under the streetlights, the city alive around us, just looking at each other. The tension built again, that pull toward each other impossible to resist. "Can I kiss you?" he asked softly. "Properly kiss you, like this is our first kiss ever?"
"Yes," I breathed.
He lowered his head slowly, giving ti to change my mind, but I didn’t want to. I wanted this—this sweetness, this romance, this choosing each other deliberately.
When his lips t mine, it was different from all our other kisses. Not desperate or frantic or born from trauma and need. Just—gentle. Loving. A promise of more to co.
When we finally broke apart, we were both smiling. "Best first kiss ever," I said.
"Absolutely." He pulled close again. "And Aria? I want you to know—I’m going to court you properly. Flowers and dates and romance. I’m going to earn you, not just assu I deserve you because we have history."
"You already have ," I pointed out.
"Then I’m going to keep you." He kissed my forehead. "By being the man you deserve. Every single day."
We walked back to the car hand in hand, and when he drove ho, he walked to my bedroom door like a perfect gentleman. "Thank you for tonight," he said, still holding my hand. "It was perfect."
"It really was." I leaned against the doorfra. "When’s our next date?"
"Eager?" His eyes danced.
"Very." I pulled him closer by his shirt. "Turns out, I really like dating you."
"Good." He kissed again, deeper this ti, and I felt heat pool low in my belly. "Because I really like dating you too."
When the kiss deepened, his hands sliding into my hair, I had to force myself to pull back.
"We’re taking it slow," I reminded him breathlessly.
"Right. Slow." But his eyes were dark with desire. "Aria, I want you so badly. But I’ll wait until you’re ready. Until we’ve built this foundation properly. Until"
I kissed him again to shut him up, then stepped back before I lost my resolve. "Goodnight, Damien."
"Goodnight, Aria." He backed toward the elevator, his eyes never leaving mine. "Sweet dreams."
"You too."
After he left, I leaned against my door, heart pounding, body aching, but also—happy. So perfectly, wonderfully happy.
This was what dating should feel like. Exciting but comfortable. Passionate but respectful. Building sothing real instead of rushing toward disaster.
My phone buzzed.
Damien: Already planning our next date. You’re going to love it.
: Can’t wait.
Damien: Sleep well, beautiful. Dream of .
: Always.
I got ready for bed with a smile on my face, already counting down to our next date. To more laughter and conversation and those devastating kisses that left breathless.
Few Days Later
"Ms. Monroe, there’s Lucas Hayes here to see you." My assistant’s voice ca through the intercom, pulling from the rger docunts spread across my desk.
Lucas. I hadn’t seen him since the gala, hadn’t spoken to him since that brief conversation where he’d admitted using to make Damien jealous. Part of had been relieved—one less complication in an already complicated situation. But another part wondered if I’d lost a friend in the process."Send him in, please."
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