I pick up my sandwich, take a bite, and moan at the taste that explodes on my taste buds. The edge is perfectly crispy, and the chicken is juicy and flavorful. “That’s really good.”
Dante laughs, picking up his burger. “I told you. Best spot in town.”
We enjoy our meal and chat about various topics, gettingto know one another. We fall into an easy conversation and absorb each other's presence. It’s not until our server approaches us to inform us that they are closing the pub that I reach for my phone in my purse. The screen lights up, and the clock reads 2:00 a.m.
Dante hands the woman one hundred and fifty dollars in cash and tells her to keep the change. She smiles, but quickly heads back to the kitchen.
I step out of the booth, sliding my jacket back on. Dante follows behind, placing his hand on the small of my back as he walks us back to his bike. “What’s your address? I’ll take you home.” He asks, handing me my helmet.
“If you could take me back to Spines & Steins, that would be great. I have to pick up my car.”
Dante nods, slips his helmet on, and gets on his bike, revving the engine to life. I slip my helmet on and wait for the okay to get on. He backs his motorcycle up and turns it around to face the direction we need to go. Dante gives me the nod, and I approach, placing my hand on his shoulder and swinging my leg over.
I can get used to this.
I take a chance and wrap my arms around his waist, and my suspicions are thoroughly confirmed. He’s a rock-solid Greek god underneath his clothes, and I can’t stop the way my fingers flex against his stomach, wanting to run my hands up and down his washboard abs.
“Hold on tight, angel,” His voice hums through the helmet speakers. Without hesitation, Dante takes off down the street at high speed, and I can’t help the child-like giggle that comes out of me.
I candefinitelyget used to this.
We arrive at Spines & Steins in the back parking lot, and Dante pulls up next to my car. I hop off, my legs wiggling, exhausted from an eventful evening. I take my helmet off and lean against my car for added support.
Dante dismounts his bike, turns it off, removes his helmet,and sets it on his seat. I hand him my helmet, and he accepts it, hanging it on his handlebars. He steps closer to me, closing the small distance between us. I can’t take my eyes off him as he stares down at me. “Are you sure you can make it home okay?” His voice is light but filled with what sounds like concern.
I nod, catching my bottom lip between my teeth. I don’t know what to say, but I don’t need to as Dante steps even closer, slowly reaching out, his fingers dancing across my cheeks as he pulls me in for a soft kiss. His tongue dances across my lip, and I invite him to take it further. I put my hands on his chest, nipping at his lip, and he takes the bait. I open my mouth for him, and his tongue greets mine in an eager frenzy, like he’s been dying to taste me all night. His hands quickly tangle in my hair, and if he grips it any tighter, I'm going to come in my panties right here in the parking lot—but I can sense how much he’s holding himself back, too. His heart is thundering in his chest as loudly and fiercely as my own. I pull away first, breathless and dazed.
Dante smiles, his hands falling to his side. “I would like to see you again, Luna.”
“I’d like that, Dante,” I say, straightening myself and trying to come back down from cloud nine. Dante smiles, backing away.
I turn, grab my door handle, and try not to crawl into my car. I start my car, rolling down my window, but Dante’s already on his bike, holding his helmet in his hands. “Text me when you get home, please.” I nod and watch him put on his helmet and back out of the parking spot. Dante turns to look back at me before taking off, flipping his visor up on his helmet, giving me a wink, and speeding off down the street. I slump back in my seat, willing my heart to calm down.
Holy fuck, tonight was amazing. Dante’s such a gentleman, and he didn’t even bat an eye at my dark romance books. I throw my car into reverse, backing out of my spot, and replay our kiss in my mind during the short drive home.
I pull into my parking garage, park in my usual spot, andmake the trek up the three flights of stairs, forgoing the elevator to walk off this adrenaline.
I reach my door, now sufficiently calm, and unlock it, stepping inside. The light in the kitchen is still on like I left it, and the quiet stillness of my apartment envelopes me. I let out a heavy breath with my back pressed against the cool metal of my front door. The quietness is cut short by a ping from my phone. I pull my phone out of my purse and see a text from Dante:
I kick off my shoes and toss my purse on the kitchen island, and head to my bedroom. My bed is groaning my name, and I long for her, but before I take a few steps into the room, a noise from the bathroom makes me pause. I stand in the doorway, listening for the sound again. A shuffling noise catches my attention. My heart drops, and all the hairs on my neck stand up. “Binx?” I call out, hoping he’s playing in my laundry basket. A chirp from the bed, and Binx pops his head from my pillows.
I snap my head back toward the bathroom, and everything unfolds in slow motion. A gloved hand appears, and my body takes over before my mind catches up. I slam my bedroom door shut, just before I see the shadow of someone pass in front of it. I throw my entire weight against the door, sealing myself off from whoever’s on the other side. I feel the handle to my door jiggle as the person bangs on the door, trying to get in, and I scream as loud as I can.
With my phone still in hand, I open it one-handed and frantically call Dante. I set the phone on speaker, toss it onto the ground to hold the doorknob, and gain better leverage. He answers on the second ring, “Dante! Help me! Someone broke into my apartment! I live in the Ozark apartments; please come quickly!” The jiggling and banging cease, and I can hear footsteps retreating. I quickly grab my dresser, shoving it haphazardly in front of my door, and pick up my phone as I head into my closet. “Dante?” I whispered into my phone, but I doubt he can hear me over hismotorcycle, which sounds like it’s reaching its maximum speed.
I hope he’s on his way here.
After a few minutes, the engine sounds dwindle, and I can hear Dante again. “Are you there, angel?”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Yes. I’m hiding in my closet. Apartment 23,” I whisper, holding back my tears.
“Good girl, stay there. I’m almost there, hang on.” A bang at my front door startles me, and I can hear someone moving around in my apartment. I hear a lot of shuffling, and I feel like time’s standing still. “You can come out now, angel. It’s clear.” Dante says through the phone, and I hang up, cautiously stepping out of my closet. I move the dresser away from the door and open it slowly to find Dante in my living room, holstering a gun at the waist of his jeans. He crosses the room, scooping me up in his arms, and what feels like the heaviest weight crashes down on me. I sob into his chest as he shushes me, petting my head. “Have you called the cops yet?” I shake my head, unable to speak. “You have to call them, angel. You have to report this.”
I swallow hard, hating what I know’s coming next. I nod and pull back, wiping at my face. “You’re right.” I pull up my phone, my fingers shakingly dialing out 911.
After talking to the 911 dispatcher, Dante sits me on my couch, wrapping the blanket I always keep on the back around me. “Do you want me to get you anything?” I shake my head, my mind in too much of a daze to verbally answer. He sits next to me, wrapping his arm around me. “I’m so sorry this happened to you, Luna.”
The echo of voices and beeps from walkie-talkies fills the stairwell, and I prepare myself to face the police. A knock on my front door makes me jump, and a female officer pokes her head into the ajar door. “Hey. We got a call about a break-in? I’m Officer Diaz, and these are my partners, Officer Reo, Officer Dempsy, and Officer Smith.”
