“I’d love to come along with you,” he replied, flashing me a dazzling smile. The tiger face paint added a roguish flare to the toothy grin.
We reached our cars, and for the first time that day, my heart deflated slightly. Today was such a good day after a really stressful and emotionally draining week. I’d been avoiding Bradley at work, which had been a nightmare. Thankfully, he’d been out at Addie’s homesite with the builders while I’d been at the office to order supplies, materials, and deal with clients.
That didn’t mean we hadn’t run into each other. He’d tried to corner me at lunchtime yesterday, claiming he “just wanted to talk.” I hid in a bathroom stall for the entirety of our breaks. When work was over, I either waited in my office until he left or tried to dip out before he could find me. His texts and calls, all pleas to give him another chance or confessions about how much he loved me, had been equally persistent and just as painful to ignore.
All of the stress from this week felt far away, and I didn’t want that to end. I didn’t want my time with Dante, the reason I was able to forget my troubles, to end so soon.
“Wanna come over?” he asked me as we lingered behind our cars.
The offer had the sad knot in my gut unwinding, and I smiled up at him. “C-Can I?”
“Of course, you can. Follow me.”
Excited at the idea of going to Dante’s place, I climbed into my car and eagerly followed him. The fangirl part of me was freaking out, knowing I was going to the home oftheDante Braxton. But more than that, the buzzing thrill stemmed, not from a place of being his fan, but from a place of just wantingto know more abouthim—Dante the person, not the celebrity. I wanted an even deeper peek behind the curtain of the man who had become my calm in the storm.
Dante drove slowly so that I could keep up with him. When he pulled up to the private Victorian home, my jaw dropped. His house was a massive wonder, and even without stepping inside, I was in love. The circular tower in the corner, the tall and sharp lines of the roof, the lively shade of blue wrapping the house. It was all perfect. I could barely pick my jaw up off the ground as I followed Dante up the steps to the front door.
“Here we are,” Dante said as he unlocked the door.
The inside left me just as breathless. The dark wood featured intricate and sophisticated details. The light provided warmth and coziness. Even Dante’s choice in minimal decor, letting the house’s architecture and old style serve as the star of the show, was amazing.
He gave me a small tour of the main floor study, living room, and kitchen. The upstairs featured a master bedroom and bathroom befitting a king from a fantasy novel, and the spare rooms were equally impressive. We skipped the basement since it was apparently just storage, and finally, he stopped in front of double doors on the main floor.
“Obviously, I had to save the best for last,” Dante announced with a smirk.
Before I could respond, he opened the double doors, and I stepped into a fairytale. At least, I imagined this breathless awe would be what I felt when I stepped into a magical realm. Because I was stunned in reverent disbelief and amazement. The house library was half of the main floor with ceiling-high bookshelves along every wall, and they were stacked full of books, both old and new. The ornate fireplace with the seating arrangement created the perfect place to lose time while lounging and reading.
“Dante,” I finally managed to gasp disbelievingly. I shook my head, still spinning to take in the room. “This is incredible! In fact, you may have a hard time getting me to leave now. I might stay in here forever.”
His eyes thinned in mock seriousness. “Careful. I might keep you here and not let you change your mind.”
Mental images flashed across my mind, each more appealing than the last—sitting side by side with Dante while we read and the fire roared in its hearth, browsing the many tomes lining these shelves with him trailing alongside me, sitting in his arms on that round window bench. The idea made me smile softly and duck my head. I’d had one amazing day with Dante, and now my head was running wild with absurd thoughts. He was just teasing me, after all.
A finger crooked beneath my chin. Warmth flooded my insides as I locked eyes with a pair of rich, brown ones. “As much as I like the face paint, would you like to wash it off?”
“Oh. Yes, please.”
I followed him up to his room and into his gigantic bathroom, which had double sinks. We each stood at one, scrubbing at our faces with hot, soapy rags until we looked like ourselves once more.
“There’s that pretty face,” Dante grinned at me as he patted his face dry. His gaze raked over my sweater and jeans. “Do you want something more comfortable to hang out in?”
I raised my brows. “What are you offering?”
Instead of answering, he went back into his bedroom. I followed and watched him dig around in his dresser. When he faced me, he held out a pair of dark gray sweatpants and a long-sleeved white shirt.
“Here,” he offered. “They’re mine, so they’ll be big. But I’m sure it will be more comfortable than jeans.”
My body warmed, and happy goosebumps formed along my arms as I stared at the clothes Dante held out. The idea of wearing his clothes, of feeling thingshe’dworn onmyskin, had my heart doing somersaults.
I licked my suddenly dry lips and accepted the clothes. “Th—Thanks.”
He reached back into a drawer and grabbed more. “I’ll change downstairs. You can change here.”
I nodded hard and watched him leave the room. I blew out an excited breath as I looked around the large room again and the clothes now in my arms. The space was everything I expected of Dante’s bedroom—warmth, masculinity, and sophistication. From the four-poster canopy bed to the logs stacked in the fireplace to the fuzzy area rug in the center of the room, everything was inviting and almost intimate and sensual.
I quickly shook that last thought away and stripped out of my jeans and sweater before pulling on Dante’s sweatpants and shirt. The clothes practically swallowed me, and that realization made butterflies unleash in my stomach. I’d always been bigger than Bradley. My thick curves could never squeeze into his clothes, so feeling small in Dante’s made me feel nice. I had to roll the waist band of the pants so they wouldn’t fall, and the sleeves of the white shirt hung past my fingers.
I stepped back into the bathroom to let my hair down from the ponytail, brushing my hands through the curls until they hung around my face and shoulders in waves. Not that the strands really hid my black bra that tinted through the shirt. Normally, I’d be embarrassed over something like that, but strangely, all I felt was excitement. Dante’s words played on repeat in my head.
