“I can pack for two days—”
“No. For now.”
“Who’s getting protective now, huh?”
“Why white?” he asked, looking my dress over again.
“Black and purple is a bit too dramatic,” I laughed. I hadn’t expected Zoltán to care about fashion. “It doesn’t give garden party. And thisis pretty.”
But he looked at me, somehow knowing my laugh was strained, though I doubted he’d heard it more than a handful of times.
I straightened the skirt of my dress.“Maybe…maybe I wanted to look like someone worth noticing.”
I wanted it to come out cocky, but the words fell broken.
He cocked a brow, looking me up and down. “Other men?”
My laugh was back. “No. My… my grandmother is here. I haven’t seen her since the last time I was in Hungary.”
Zolt’s eyes softened, and he reached for my arm, pulling me flush against him. We were half-hidden behind the pillar.
“I didn’t know that,” he said quietly.
“Why would you? I don’t talk about my family. It’s… I’m a bit worried, if I’m honest.”The blush burned my cheeks. It grew hotter when he stroked one with his thumb.
“I… I want her to look at me and think I’ve done something with my life.”
That one glass of champagne had gone to my head. Luca always called me the biggest lightweight. I should feel awkward, but his expression was so sincere.
He blinked. “You have. You don’t need to look like you have.”
“Yeah, well… she always thought I’d be an actress. Translating isn’t as glamorous. And… I wonder if she’ll remember that. I wonder if I’ve been missed or… if I ever belonged here at all.”
His thumb brushed my cheek again, as his eyes bore into mine, soft and steady. “Zsófia, you belong wherever you decide to stand.”
My breath stuttered.
“You belong here.”
Having Everly with me meant I always had someone to fight in my corner. With Luca, I had someone to tell me if I wasright or wrong in the kindest of ways.
With Zoltán by my side… I felt seen.
I closed my eyes for a few seconds and forced another laugh before I said something I’d regret. “Careful,” I said, my voice unsteady. “If you keep talking like that, I might start to like you.”
Of course, I liked him. He couldn’t come out with things like that, almost sounding sincere, and expect me not to develop something gross like feelings.
“Zsófia,” he said, but he said my name without his usual playfulness. He was serious. Like he was about to warn me that I shouldn’t get attached, and I was not about to let that ruin my mood. “I need to talk to you—”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “No talking. Drinking.”
I pressed off the pillar, fingers dancing over his shoulder as I sauntered into the grand house.
Grinning over my shoulder like a cat who really got the cream, I nearly missed my footing and fell into a man.
Imre.
He steadied me, and I forced a smile through his touch, though my arms tightened at my sides.
