Fucking dimples,as if he wasn’t handsome enough.
He presses a feather-light kiss to my forehead, lingering long enough that I can feel the warmth of his breath. “I’m sick of competitions. I’m sick of doing what I’m supposed to do, living up to expectations that never gave me anything real. None of it made me happy. But you? You’ve become the brightest point in my life. Ever since you walked into that museum, everything shifted. You make me happy. And I want to do the same for you. I want you to have everything you deserve.”
How do you respond to something that feels so unearned, so freely given?
I’m so fucking bad at this.
“Wait.” He steps back to the door and reaches for the light switch, and in an instant, the room is swallowed by darkness. I’m confused and a little disoriented until a greenish glow makes me look up at the ceiling.
Stars.
Tiny, glowing stars are scattered across it, filling the room with a soft light. They shimmer, almost pulsing in the silence, and the weight of everything, of life, of grief, of guilt, falls away.
He did this.
For me.
“Nico…” I breathe out as I stand, my gaze flickering between him and the stars.
“Sometimes…” He steps toward me again, closing the distance slowly until we’re standing so close that our toes are touching, “… things that didn’t work out for you actually worked out for you.”
“This makes no sense.”
Why would he want me? After everything I did?
After how I hurt him?
After how I betrayed his trust?
“Even if I were senseless,” he continues, his words so soft they almost get lost in the space between us. “You’d still make sense to me.”
Fuck.How can anyone be this sweet?
My arms wrap around his waist, pulling him to me in a hug. His arms come around me, his hand firm at the back of my head, and I almost lose myself in the quiet, dizzying comfort of it.
“Would you rather forgive the rich asshole who got his feelings hurt and lashed out at you… or tell him to fuck off and miss out on all the glow-in-the-dark magic?”
I snort, the sound muffled against his shirt. Leaning back, I blink up at him, arching a brow. “Option three. Forgive him but make him grovel for it.”
His grin widens to that perfect, boyish grin that used to drive me insane in all the wrong ways and now drives me insane in every right one. He leans closer, his breath brushing against my cheek. “What if he already is?”
I narrow my eyes at him, but my lips twitch upward at the same time. “Then I guess I’d have to let him off the hook…eventually.”
“Eventually?” His voice is practically a purr now, and my heart skips a beat.
“Yes, eventually,” I say, trying to hold onto my sass because God knows this man doesn’t need his ego inflated any further. “Because?—”
I don’t get to finish. He tilts my head up, his fingers firm under my chin, and presses his lips to mine, cutting me off completely. The kiss is slow at first, as if he’s savoring the moment. My breath catches as his other hand slides to the small of my back, pulling me flush against him.
God, how does he do this?
How does he manage to kiss me like I’m the only thing keeping him tethered to this earth and somehow still knock the floor out from under me?
I try to remind myself that there is so much more to talk about, so much more to clear up, to apologize for.I should apologize too. But all those thoughts evaporate the second his teeth catch my bottom lip, tugging and making my knees wobble. I clutch his shirt for balance, or maybe it’s to keep him from pulling away.
When he finally does, it’s only to press his forehead against mine. “Does that count as groveling?”
I huff a laugh, my chest light and full at the same time. “It’s a good start.”
