She wanted to throw her laptop aside and straddle him again, wanted his hands squeezing her hips, wanted to kiss the breath out of him, wanted—
Raffi scooted away. “The time. We should probably go,” he said softly.
That one registered.
Ani, yanked out of that dream of closeness, cleared her throat. “Right. Thanks, yeah.”
He hadn’t kissed her. Maybe she’d misread him. Maybe as they grew closer, he only felt sisterly affection for her. The fountain, the near drowning, it might have made him feel more like a big brother than a boyfriend. Because he wasn’t making a move. Raffi—the consummate flirt, the playboy, the silver-tongued tease—would not kiss her.
She grew sad as she rose, put away her laptop, and went to the bedroom to get dressed. Her spirits buoyed only slightly by the prospect of putting on the prettiest dress she’d ever owned.
17
Raffi
Ani was anabsolute vision. She always was, even soaking wet and coughing up fountain water. But the look on her face right now, wearing the dress he had bought her, was something new. She glowed like she felt taken care of, adored, and he hoped he might have had something to do with it.
“So, it fits,” she smiled shyly.
“You can sure say that,” he said, unable to stop himself from sounding like he was salivating. Like really, man, rein it in.
“Thank you so much, again. I don’t deser—”
“Do not even finish that sentence. Yes, you do.”
And now Raffi also knew exactly what garments were under that dress. A matching white bra and panty set. Lace trim on both. He tried very hard not to study it all too much because he didn’t want to be gross, but she had handed him the pile. They had fallen out. And he had pulled them out of the dryer and folded them on the guest bed. There had been time for his eyes to roam and his brain to imagine.
“Let’s go check out this engagement party,” Raffi said, and ushered her toward the door.
They arrived at the Napa Harvest Inn, which sounded much quainter than it was—a sprawling hundred-acre property with luxurious villas dotting the landscape. He could already hear the band playing.
Ani slid out of the car with so much elegance, considering that she’d had a near-death experience just hours before. He remembered it again, seeing her body sinking in the water, and he was gripped with a sudden urge to hold her and never let go. He’d first had that thought while she napped on him during the movie. He didn’t think his brain absorbed one single second of the film because he was too focused on the feel of Ani snuggled against him. And also, at several points, willing his boner to disappear by thinking of the unsexiest things possible. Palm Sunday church service with his grandma. That time Raffi’s nemesis stole the soccer ball from him and immediately scored a goal. His spiteful childhood piano teacher who was always eating egg salad sandwiches while he practiced. They all worked like charms, until he felt Ani’s breath rise up and down, felt her cheek against his shoulder, her lips pouty, so kissable.
He’d wanted to kiss her many times but felt, after what she’d been through, that perhaps he shouldn’t push. She seemed into him, he thought. Maybe? She certainly trusted him to handle her underwear. She’d fallen asleep on top of him. She hadn’t moved when she woke up to find his arm around her. These were good signs.
But a kiss was something else entirely. He wasn’t going to do it just yet. The moment wasn’t right, with them just arriving and Ani about to work.
Didn’t mean he couldn’t be close to her now, though. Raffi rushed to Ani’s side, closed the car door for her, and held outhis arm like he was courting her. To his pleasure, she took it, and they walked arm in arm toward the music.
“Does your family do engagement parties?” Ani asked. “You know, your broader family?” she added quickly.
He didn’t want Ani to feel that his family was a sore subject. To that end, he should probably stop being an emo jerk every time they were brought up. He regretted his mean laugh earlier when she asked about his parents’ relationship.
“Don’t feel bad about asking about my family,” he said. “I promise I’ll be less grumpy about it. I like talking about even the hard stuff with you.”
“Thank you,” she said quietly, and he may have imagined it but she moved a little closer to him.
“But yeah, my second cousin and their whole branch of the family is into that. A bunch of siblings have all been lucky in love, so I’ve been to my fair share of engagement parties. Usually just as big as the wedding.”
She nodded. “We only had one in my family, and I was thirteen or so, but I remember thinking how romantic it was. My uncle—or, like, second cousin once removed? I always forget—he and his bride seemed so enamored with each other. They’re still going strong. I like that whenever I see them together and he’s telling a story—he’s a fantastic storyteller by the way, that whole side of the family is—she still looks at him like he’s the funniest, most amazing man in the world.”
“Fuck, that’s sweet.”
The sun was setting, styling Ani in golden light as they walked past row after row of grapes.
“Yeah, it is.” She paused a moment. “My parents are like that, too. I didn’t want to, you know, rub salt in the wound, butit’s been kind of nuts growing up with parents who are still so obsessed with each other. I feel like they often put themselves first, above me and my sister—”
He liked learning this about Ani’s family, even if it was in stark contrast to his own. He wanted her to be happy. And he was curious about her sister, since, well, he had a thing about siblings.
