“I’ll take whatever you will give me, Lily.” He presses his lips to mine, and I almost forget we’re surrounded by people.
“Lunch or ice cream?” He asks.
“Ice cream and a walk? I’m too distracted to sit and eat.”
He chuckles. “I know what you mean,”
With every new layer he reveals to me, the deeper our connection becomes. It’s not just about wanting him. It’s about wanting to become a better version of myself, not just for him, but for me too.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Drago
Song- Fade Into You- Mazzy Star
The sun sits low as we step out onto the street, the warmth of Monaco clinging to my skin. I put my sunglasses on as Lily walks beside me, ice cream already melting faster than she can keep up with, laughing softly when a drop lands on her wrist.
God. I can’t help myself, I catch her arm and bring her wrist up to my mouth, slowly licking it clean. I am obsessed with the way she looks at me.
The breeze lifts the hem of her dress, and I have to lock my jaw, remind myself that wanting her isn’t the same as taking her. That control is the thing that separates the man I am now from the one I used to be.
So without a word, we keep walking.
She nudges my arm with her shoulder. “You’re quiet.”
“I’m thinking,” I say.
“Dangerous.”
“For you, maybe,” I reply, and she grins like she knows exactly what that means.
We walk along the promenade, the sea stretching out beside us. I keep myself half a step closer to the road, instinctively positioning my body between her and everything else. I don’t tell her. I don’t need to. This is as natural as breathing. This is what I have dedicated more than half of my life to. Keeping her safe.
She licks her spoon and hums. “This is really good.”
“Everything tastes better when you slow down,” I say.
She glances at me sideways. “Is that a life lesson or a threat?”
I stop walking.
She takes one more step before realizing I’m no longer beside her. When she turns back, I’m standing there, one hand stuffed into my pocket.
“Both,” I say quietly.
This right here is the life I want in my future. Calm. Slow. Where I can take a moment to breathe and not look behind me, waiting for someone to stick a blade through my back.
Her smile softens, something gentler sliding into place. She steps closer, not touching, just close enough that I can smell sugar and salt and her. God help me.
We keep walking.
People pass us. Laughter, languages blending together, life happening all around us. None of it sticks. All I register is the rhythm of her steps, the way her arm brushes mine now and then, accidental but not unwelcome.
“This,” she says after a moment, gesturing to the sea, the sun, the street, “feels… normal.”
The word lands heavier than she intends.
“I don’t get much of that,” she adds quietly.
