“Can we get back in bed now?” I ask. “It’s freezing.”
“I can start a fire,” he offers.
“Maybe later.” I thread my fingers through his and lead him back to bed.
Romeo and I settle in as he wraps his arms around me, warming the chill in my bones.
He kisses my face, then my neck, and pretty soon, one thing leads to another, and he’s back inside me. This time, he sets a slow, unhurried pace, like he has all day, and I guess he does.
It feels less frantic than last night and more like a declaration.
We both finish, and he drags me back onto his chest, fingers combing through my hair. It almost puts me to sleep before the deep reverberations of his voice pull me back.
“I want you here with me on the island.”
Tension pulls at his muscles as he waits for me to answer, but there’s no need for him to worry. I can’t imagine anywhere else I’d want to be, and now that I’m studying remotely, I don’t have to stay in the city.
“Okay. But what about all my stuff? Can I bring it here?”
His hand tightens on my hip reflexively. “You can paint the whole place pink if you want. I don’t care what you do as long as you’re here with me.”
“You’d really let me do that?” I ask, not because I plan to, but because I think he’s actually serious.
“In case it wasn’t clear already, there isn’t a thing you could ask me for that I wouldn’t give you.”
Bliss settles deep in my bones, and I snuggle closer, holding him tight.
He rubs my back with one hand while he reaches for his phone with another.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Texting Julian. I’ll have him get a crew to pack up your things and bring them here.”
“I don’t want them packing up my underwear,” I say, mortified at the thought of random men going through my dresser.
“They won’t be.” Possession bleeds through Romeo’s voice. “I’ll make sure they bring a female guard to pack up your room and everything in your workspace.”
I nod, closing my eyes as he handles the business on the phone, and I start to drift off again. At some point, I think I hear him say something about food, but I’m too warm and comfortable to move.
When I wake up again, there’s a fire burning in the hearth, and Beppe is curled up on his dog bed in front of it. That’s not the only addition to the room, either. His ramp is at the end of the bed, and boxes of my bedding are stacked in the corner. On the nightstand, there’s a tray of breakfast pastries and a bottle of water. Romeo, however, is nowhere in sight.
I’m still exhausted, but I don’t even know what time it is, and I should help move my belongings.
I amble into his closet again and help myself to a pair of his briefs and sweatpants, along with one of his hoodies. I take a quick shower and brush my teeth, and when I get dressed, I have to roll the pants halfway up so I don't trip over them. I could probably have Abella bring me something to wear, but Romeo’s clothes feel more comfortable than anything else would right now.
I braid my hair and venture back into the room, searching for my shoes. But as I’m looking for them, the well-worn sketchbook on Romeo’s desk captures my attention.
My curiosity gets the best of me, and when I open it, the air punches from my lungs.
It’s a drawing of me sitting in the school stairwell, hugging my knees to my chest as tears track down my face. As I trace the lines with my finger and study the details, I realize it’s not just a drawing. It’s a memory.
I remember that day because Miles Pennington asked me to the school dance. He was a spoiled Society kid, and he couldn’t believe it when I turned him down. By lunchtime, he’d made up a story that I tried to kiss him and told everyone I was a weird loser.
“You looked so vulnerable that day.” Romeo’s voice startles me, and when I glance over my shoulder, he’s standing behind me.
“This was before we were even friends.” My gaze drifts back to the drawing, silently questioning how he could have known about this.
Even though we’d grown up together, I can’t remember us ever really talking until I was around thirteen. I always assumed he wasn’t paying attention before.
