Chapter 59 Chapter Fifty-Nine

Chapter 59 Chapter Fifty-Nine
Vanessa POV

I woke up to the smell of coffee and something burning.

For a moment, I was disoriented—my room was filled with morning light, and I was alone in bed.

Then memories flashed behind my eyes reminding me that Danny had climbed in beside me in the middle of the night, wrapped himself around me like a human blanket and I had mumbled a lot of things to him in my sleepy haze. 

So where was he?

The memory made me groan and pull a pillow over my face.

I'd actually said yes. To meeting his parents in their Tribeca penthouse. 

The smell of burning intensified, followed by a muffled curse from the kitchen.

I threw off the covers and padded out to find Danny standing in front of my stove, waving a dish towel at the smoke alarm. 

He was wearing the same jeans and t-shirt from last night, his hair adorably mussed, and he looked absolutely panicked.

"What are you doing?" I asked, trying not to laugh.

Danny spun around, looking guilty.

"I was trying to make breakfast. It's not going well."

"I can see that," I said, moving past him to turn off the stove. The pan was filled with what might have once been scrambled eggs but now looked more like rubber. 

"Danny, how did you manage to burn eggs?"

"I got distracted," he admitted, dumping the pan in the sink. 

"I was trying to find your coffee mugs and then the smoke alarm started going off and—" He stopped, running a hand through his hair. 

"I'm a terrible boyfriend. I can't even make you breakfast without setting off fire alarms."

"You're not a terrible boyfriend," I said, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind looking over his shoulder at the mess on the counter. 

"You're just a terrible cook."

"That's not better," Danny muttered, but I could feel him relaxing into my embrace.

"Good thing I know how to cook," I said, kissing his shoulder blade. 

"Sit. Let me show you how it's done."

Twenty minutes later, we were sitting at my small kitchen table with actual edible eggs, toast, and coffee. Danny had insisted on helping, which mostly meant he stood next to me asking questions and getting in the way, but it was sweet.

"So," I said, taking a sip of coffee. 

"You climbed through my window in the middle of the night like some kind of romantic stalker."

"I used the spare key Bean gave me," Danny corrected. 

"That's completely different."

"Is it though?" I asked, but I was smiling.

"I thought you might need company," Danny said, his expression softening. I smiled up at him 

“ Really” I asked and he smiled awkwardly 

“ Fine I needed the company” he said 

and my heart did that stupid fluttering thing it always did when Danny said something sweet.

"I'm glad you could come to me," I said. 

"Besides, it's better now that you're here."

We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Danny cleared his throat.

"I wanted to tell you about the team meeting," he said.

I set down my fork, giving him my full attention.

"How did it go?"

"Better than I expected," Danny admitted. 

"I told them what happened with Marco—not the details, just enough so they understand what happened to him. I gave them the choice of whether to try to get him back or move forward without him."

"And?" I asked, my stomach twisting with anxiety.

"They chose to move forward," Danny said, and I could hear the pride in his voice. 

"Unanimously. They said what Marco did was wrong and they didn't want someone like that representing the team."

"They chose integrity over winning?" he whispered and I huffed 

"They chose you over winning," I corrected gently and he smiled shrugging 

"And you by extension, anyway. And then Jake suggested we recruit a player from the junior league—Ethan's younger brother Ryan. The kid's apparently really talented."

"But he's a freshman," I said, worried.

"Can he really fill Marco's position?"

"I don't know," Danny admitted.

"But we have two months so we're going to try. And honestly, Nessa, I'd rather lose with a team that has integrity than win with someone who—" He stopped, his jaw clenching. 

"Someone who hurt you."

I reached across the table and took his hand.

"I'm just worried it won't work out. What if you lose the championship because of me?"

"Then we lose," Danny said firmly. 

"But it won't be because of you. That would make all our training sound useless."

"Your coach must be thrilled," I said dryly.

"Coach is... processing," Danny said diplomatically.

"But he'll come around, when he sees the point he always does."

We finished breakfast, and Danny helped me clean up—which mostly involved him washing dishes while I dried and put them away. 

It felt domestic and comfortable, like we'd been doing this for the three years he was gone instead of weeks.

"So," Danny said as he dried his hands on a towel. 

"Are you ready for Friday?"

"Ready to meet your almost-billionaire parents?" I asked.

"Absolutely not. I'm terrified."

"But you're still going right?" Danny asked, and there was something vulnerable in his expression.

"How do you know I'll go with you?" I asked, even though we both knew the answer.

Danny laughed, the sound warm and familiar. 

"Because you agreed last night. While you were half-asleep."

I felt my cheeks heat up.

"I was barely conscious. That doesn't count."

"Oh, it definitely counts," Danny said, grinning.

"You said, and I quote, 'I'll go with you.'"

"I did not say that," I protested weakly.

"You did," Danny insisted. 

I groaned and buried my face in my hands. "What else did I say?"

"Well," Danny said, his voice taking on a teasing tone.

"You also mentioned something about having 'dinner with a friend' when you were talking to your mom. I didn't know we were just friends, Nessa. That hurts."

I peeked through my fingers to see him with his hand over his heart, looking mock-wounded.

"I had to tell her something," I said defensively, dropping my hands. 

"I couldn't exactly say 'Hey Mom, I'm having dinner with my boyfriend's billionaire parents and also his dad might hate me because of my last name.'"

"Fair point," Danny conceded. He stepped closer, and I had to tilt my head back to look at him. 

"For the record though, I'm happy to be whatever you want me to be. Friend, boyfriend, that guy who makes terrible eggs—"

"Definitely not that last one," I interrupted, and he laughed.

"So what am I?" Danny asked, his hands coming to rest on my hips. 

"To you?"

I thought about it for a moment. What was Danny to me? My boyfriend was right but it felt too casual for what we had even if it was true.

"You're mine," I said finally, leaning into him. 

"And I'm yours. Is that enough?"

"More than enough," Danny murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

We stood there for a moment, wrapped up in each other, and I felt something settle in my chest. 

Whatever happened on Thanksgiving, whatever Jonathan Glover thought of me, this was real. Danny was real. We were real.

"I need to tell you something," I said quietly. 

"About my mom."

Danny pulled back slightly to look at me. "Okay."

"When I talked to her last night, I didn't tell her about your parents," I admitted.

"I didn't tell her about the Glover connection or the Tribeca penthouse or any of it. I just said I was having dinner with a friend."

"I know," Danny said.

"I heard you say it, remember?"

"Right," I said.

"But the thing is, my mom is my mom and so she knows me and knows there's more to it. And I felt terrible lying to her, even by omission."

"So tell her," Danny said simply. 

"When you're ready. There's no rush."

"Really?" I asked. 

"You're not upset that I didn't tell her about us?"

"Nessa, your relationship with your mom is your business," Danny said.

"I'm not going to pressure you to introduce me or make some big announcement before you're ready. Whenever you want to tell her, I'll be there. And if you never want to tell her, I'll be okay with that too." be said but I didn't really believe that

"You're too good to me," I said, feeling tears prick at my eyes again.

"Impossible," Danny said, kissing my nose.

"You deserve all the good things."

I took a deep breath, gathering my courage. There was something I needed to ask him, something I'd been thinking about since my conversation with my mom last night.

"Danny?" I said.

"Yeah?"

"Would you consider coming with me to my family for Christmas?"