Bullet ✔️

Chapter 44

I was hungover for two days after spending Christmas Eve with Elina and James. So much so, that the Christmas themed wedding I was photographing that weekend gave me a headache with all the jingle bells and ho-ho-ho's and talk of reindeer. The couple was lovely, and I had a great time shooting a unique setting and show of love and affection, but I wished I didn't have to be there the whole time.

The images turned out pretty fun, though. The bride and groom were dressed up as Santa and Mrs. Claus, with elves as the maid of honor and best man, and it was a little weird, until I heard that they met while the groom played Santa at a mall, and wanted it recreated for their wedding. It was still a little weird, but also a little cute. So, of course, I kept my mouth shut, swallowed a handful of painkillers throughout the day, and survived.

I was standing at the kitchen island, my laptop open to do some editing on the images, as a small noise caught my ear. I looked around, but nothing seemed amiss, so I turned back to my work. But my eyes couldn't relax, and I ended up scanning the small space for whatever the sound could've been, until I found a small piece of paper on the floor by the front door.

My heart skipped as I walked over and picked it up, recognizing my own penmanship immediately. It was one of the stupid-looking coupons for a massage that I'd put in Damian's Christmas present. I looked at it with a hand covering my smile, before I unlocked the door and opened it carefully.

And there he was. Gorgeous as ever, wearing the same smirk he had when I first saw him across the wedding venue. He had one of his black shirts on, and he had the cuff links on, I noticed, as he adjusted one of them. His eyes met mine the same second I was finished ogling his broad frame—and those dark irises almost made my knees buckle.

I realized right then and there how much I'd missed him.

He held a hand out, and pulled the piece of paper from my fingers as he cleared his throat. "I'll save this for later," he said, stepping into my apartment. I took a few steps back to make room for him, and he closed the door again. "Hello, sweetheart."

"Hi," I replied, my mouth suddenly dry. All the memories of the last half year came rushing back in waves, crashing over me with passion, lust, love, loss and despair. I had no idea what I was going to do now that he was there, but I built this bridge, and I'd be damned if I didn't try to cross it. "Thank you for the present," I told him, motioning towards the black box that was still holding the contents of his gift by my bedroom door.

"You're welcome." He smiled, taking a step closer to me. "Thank you for mine."

I had no idea why I was nervous—I knew this man like the back of my hand, yet he intimidated me like he was a stranger again. I nodded, and turned away to create some space and help myself think.

Damian was everything I'd ever dreamed of, and more. More in ways that should've put me off him, but I didn't think I could ever stop loving him. Or wanting him. Or needing him.

"Should I come back another time?" He motioned his head towards my open computer, looking at me with his brows furrowed.

I quickly moved to shut the lid and turned back around towards him as I said, "No, I was due a break anyway." He grinned at me, and as much as I wanted to skip all the awkwardness and jumping around and just kiss him again, I wanted to talk first. So I started with something easy. "How was your trip?"

He shrugged. "It was nice," he said, walking over to lean against the island I stood by. "Dad kicked my ass in Poker, and I got it handed to me in Blackjack, so I ended up losing, and missing my girl more than I planned to."

I had to swallow the urge to swoon as he winked at me, that same smirk making me weak in the knees. It was hard, but I managed to keep standing. "That sounded a little worse than nice," I said, looking at him with worry in my eyes at the part about him losing.