Page 59 of Forbidden Romeo
Believe in yourself as much as I believe in you. The world is yours for the taking.
I love you,
Dad
Tears spring to my eyes as I run my fingers over the cool glass of the bottle, realizing this is the last gift my dad will ever give me.
And also the first gift he ever got for me, too.
I twist off the cap, the seal breaking for the first time, and the strong aroma fills the air with hints of caramel and vanilla with a spicy oak finish.
It brings back memories of family gatherings and special occasions and sitting at the pub doing homework while Mom and Dad worked.
I hold the bottle up and whisper into the theater, “Here’s to you, Dad.”
Then, I bring it to my lips and take a small sip, letting the flavor roll over my tongue. It's complex and warm, with a gentle burn on the finish.
This last gift is like getting one more big hug from him; one last chance to sit and have a drink together. I take another sip, closing my eyes this time, and it's as if I can feel him here with me, telling me how proud he is of the woman I’ve become. I make a silent promise to savor every last drop of the whiskey and will forever save it for the most special moments in my life. “Thank you, Daddy,” I whisper out loud.
Behind me, a door slams and I jump, clutching the precious bottle to my chest with a gasp. “What are you doing here?” Holden asks. The normal authoritative bark in his voice is gone, though and all I hear is soft concern.
I swipe at the fallen tear on my cheek as Holden joins me, sitting center stage.
“I was feeling nervous about tomorrow and wanted to come here for a little.”
Holden’s eyes fall to the discarded wrapping paper and the bottle of whiskey in my hands.
I clear my throat and hand it over to him. “A final gift from my dad,” I whisper and slide the card over to Holden as well. “Want to try a sip of the whiskey my dad created for me when I was first born?”
His eyes read the card fast, a serene smile on his lips. “I don’t drink anymore once a show I’m in enters tech,” Holden says and I nod in quick understanding.
Of course.
Me of all people understands why Holden Dorsey stays away from alcohol, especially when acting in a show.
“But,” Holden says, “I think I could make a small exception this one time.” Delicately cradling the bottle, he takes a pull, his eyes drifting closed as he savors the flavor of the whiskey. “Wow. That’s damn good.” Then reaching over, he gently takes my jaw and pulls my mouth to his in a kiss. I can still taste the blend of smoke and sweet whiskey on his tongue as he gently parts my lips. “But the real thing is still better,” he whispers against me, sending shivers down my spine.
Time slows with that kiss and the air around us charges with electricity, his lips tasting of whiskey and longing, his touch gentle yet possessing. The world fades away, leaving only the two of us here on the stage; our home away from home. The very place that brought us together initially has unified us once more… I hope for the last time.
And suddenly, I’m so fucking grateful that he’s here to experience this with me. This was the real gift, the one that couldn't be bought or given, and it was the most precious thing of all.
And what Dad would have wanted for me more than anything.
To have someone to share this whiskey with and celebrate how far I’ve come.
“Have you finished reading my journal yet?” he asks.
I shake my head. “It’s, um, been a little busy.”
He studies my face for a long moment, watching me inhale and exhale. I’m certain he can see every lift of goosebump on my flesh; every shiver rippling beneath my breast; every tingle that surges down my spine.
“Have you heard from Megan yet?”
He shakes his head slowly. “She needs space and I’m trying to respect that,” he whispers. “I can’t blame her for wanting to stay away after that article.”
“I guess not,” I say carefully. It already feels like I’ve overstepped with Megan far more than I should have.
“But?”