Knowing he misses his best friend cements something strong in me – something like wanting to show him how much he’s wanted here. How much the town misses him, even if he doesn’t believe it. “Any lover I should know about?”
His torso vibrates with a rough chuckle. “Jealous?”
“More like wary.”
His thumb skims over my pulse point, halting over it to feel how it hammers beneath his finger. “No lovers, no exes. Just you, Alara.”
He can’t say that to me. It makes me forget about his rules.
“Good to know. Have you ever thought of making another place your home base?”
A+ for subtlety, Alara.But I just want to know if he’d ever consider moving back.
He wraps both arms around me, pulling me close, as though he’s scared I’ll get away if he loosens his hold. “When I was between eighteen and twenty years old, my dream was to move to Switzerland. But it’s too far away, and I couldn’t move across the world and be away from my family. I know I don’t visit as often as I should, but I love my sisters so much, and my mom, and they all need me.”
I kiss his bicep. “You’re so good for them. And why Switzerland?”
“It’s a beautiful country. I’ve competed a couple times there,and their mountains, the runs and trails, the parks are all fucking splendid. I think you’d really enjoy skiing over there.”
I like this version of Diego – the one who answers all my questions, my texts, my calls. The one who spends his time talking my ear off about a Lego set he saw while I make myself dinner and we’re FaceTiming. The one who brings me a pizza when he’s supposed to rest. Don’t get me wrong – I also like him when he’s a sarcastic asshole, a grumpy idiot, and more guarded. I like all versions of him, but this one? It feels like he’s slowly coming back to his old self – the optimistic guy, the one who loves to make everyone around him smile.
My fingers travel from his elbow to his wristwatch. I look at it, taking in all the details of the dial.
“First luxurious item I treated myself to after my first paycheck,” he explains, his breath fanning across my cheek as he also looks at it. It’s an Omega Seamaster. “But every time I put it on, I feel guilty.”
My heart squeezes. “Why?”
“I could’ve put the money aside in Valentina’s trust fund. Or advanced Gaby’s tuition. Instead, I go buy myself a watch. I’ve been reflecting a lot during these past few days, and I really need to start being careful with what I buy. I wanted to get myself the Millennium Falcon Lego for Christmas, but instead I split the money in two for my sisters.”
“Diego, no.” I shift just enough so that I’m able to look up at him. His jaw is set tight, the way it usually is when he gets upset or frustrated. Letting my fingertips dance across his arms, I watch how his expression softens. “You’re allowed to treat yourself with whatever you want. You’re allowed to put yourself first too. It doesn’t make you less of an amazing man.”
He grins. “You think I’m amazing?”
“I think you have selective hearing,” I fire back, but smile nonetheless.
He leans in, brushing his lips to mine. “Thank you for constantly reassuring me,” he murmurs. “It’s just difficult to put myself first without feeling guilty. Especially now.”
“I understand that, but I promise no one’s going to hold it against you. You’ve achieved so many great things, and you’re allowed to treat yourself for that. You deserve good things.”
His answer is a gentle kiss that has me forgetting about everything except for the way his lips move around mine, the way his hand skates up to my bare throat, the way his tongue seeks a sensual dance. I sigh, realizing I’ve missed this so much.
My hand moves to grab the back of his neck, my fingers sifting through the hair at his nape, causing him to groan in my mouth. The kiss turns messy when I try to shift into another position, and when I pull away to straddle his lap, he smiles before attacking my lips with passionate pecks.
My arms are wound around his neck, my fingers in his hair the way he seems to love so much. He deepens the kiss, with his hands cradling my jaw, his tongue domineering mine. I feel one of his hands moving toward my ponytail and, with one delicate tug, he pulls my locks out of their confines.
“Missed you,” he mumbles against my lips, breathless.
I moan, ignoring my racing heart, pushing my breasts flush against his torso and moving my hips to feel his bulge against my center. A guttural groan rumbles in his chest, and he bucks into me.
Tugging at the neckline of his t-shirt, he breaks away to pull it off, and my lips instantly latch onto his neck when his shirt lands somewhere behind me. My hands explore his chest, his model-like physique. He’s chiseled, muscular just the way I like it, with a dusting of clipped hair growing on his pecs.
Am I into chest hair now? Oh my God.
I can feel him shudder as I kiss his collarbone while my fingertips trace the outlines of his abs.
“You’re sexy,” I whisper, just as he grabs me by the back of my neck to slant his mouth on mine. He swallows my gasp, grinning.
“Me? That’s all you.”
