It’s better than that.
It’s this, right here.
It’s telling someone you love them without actually saying the wordsI love you.
And it’s learning how to hear it when they don’t say it.
“You’re too hot to ever want to sleep with someone else,” I finally say.
“Good answer,” he says, pulling into a parking lot.
“What are we doing here?” I ask, suspicious.
He shifts into park and moves his seat all the way back. Then he turns to me, frames my face in his hands, and smirks. “We’re making out, babe.”
His lips meet mine with a heat that makes my toes curl. He deepens the kiss, tongue skating against mine. It’s hot and passionate and everything we’ve always been—serenity in the midst of a storm.
He pulls me toward him, and I climb over the middle console, straddling his lap. My hands rake through his hair as I suck his bottom lip into my mouth. He groans low, tightening his grip on my ass.
He loves me.
I know he’ll say it eventually, when he’s ready.
I don’t want to rush him.
I’m here.
And I’m staying.
For good.
In the past, it was always about the things he never did… and the things I was too afraid to do.
But thank God, I know better now.
I setthe box I’m rummaging through aside when my phone buzzes.
Sabrina
Girl, I’m still waiting on my $300 and the rest of your Switzerland story.
I laugh softly. I’ve hardly seen Sabrina since we got back, aside from a few quick check-ins about Sherry’s remodel. I came clean and told her I slept with Matt, but I haven’t had time to give her all the details.
I know! Drinks next week?
Sabrina
Fine. But at this point, I’ll pay YOU $300 to just tell me the details already. I have so many questions. Like—what’s it like sleeping with a billionaire? Did you do it on a pile of money? I’m dying over here not knowing how this went down.
I laugh again.
Full details coming soon. Promise!
I send her the $300, then dig through the box of sweaters, pulling them out and tossing them to the side.
“Shit. Where is it?” I mutter.
It’s my favorite sweater. Cashmere. Chanel. My pappoús gave it to me for Christmas last year. It’s gorgeous and soft and comfortable. God, I could live in it. I remember boxing it up at the start of summer, but now I can’t find it anywhere.
