“I used to think that love is all that matters,” I tell him. “But I just don’t know anymore. I don’t know if it’s enough.”
And my heart. My poor heart is breaking and I just want to rip it out and stomp on it because I trusted it to make this decision and now I’m heartbroken because of it.
All of a sudden, I realize that it’s raining now and I decide that that that’s apropos. My heart is gray and dismal so it might as well get rained on, too. The rain splatters around us and I don’t move. I don’t care if I’m wet. I don’t care about anything.
“We need to go in,” Dante tells me. “Please, Reece. You were just in an accident. I don’t want you to get pneumonia, too.”
But I still don’t move. In fact, I lay my head back on the lounge and lift my face to the sky, letting the rain wash over me.
And I’m silent again.
“Fine,” Dante finally says. “If you’re going to get pneumonia, so will I.” He settles on the lounger next to me and lets the rain soak him.
We both must look ridiculous, stretched out next to the pool in formal clothes and letting the rain drench us. We’re out of our minds. But Dante stays with me.
And I don’t even know how long we are like this.
But finally, after minutes or an hour, I’m cold. It’s still raining and my skin is like ice and my teeth are chattering.
Dante looks over at me. “Are you ready now?”
He’s not angry or impatient.
He’s just wet.
Very, very wet.
I nod.
Dante gets to his feet and then bends to help me to mine. And I let him. I’m too sad and empty to put up a fuss.
He fingers my cast. “You weren’t supposed to get this wet,” he tells me softly.
“It doesn’t matter,” I answer. Because nothing matters. Not anymore. I turn and start to walk back inside, but Dante grabs my arm gently and turns me around.
“Reece.”
One word. But the tone of his voice. The look in eyes. The pain on his face.
“Please.”
Make that two words.
“I love you.”
And the three most important words of all.
I crumple onto the lounger and cry again even though I didn’t think I had any tears left. And then Dante is next to me, with his wet arms around me and he’s whispering in my ear.
And the huskiness of his voice.
The smell of his wet skin.
The beating of his heart against my hand.
All of it.
I don’t want to be without him.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe love is all that matters. And we can get through our differences. We can get through anything.
And then he’s kissing me.
And I’m letting him.
And I’m kissing him back.
Because I love him and he loves me and Elena Kontou doesn’t matter.
Dante’s hands are all over me, warm and strong and I lean into him, into his warmth, his strength. It’s still raining, but we are kissing in the rain and it’s sexy as hell. In fact, I think I’ll kiss in the rain forever. For the rest of my life. Because it’s just that sexy.
“We should go in,” Dante says against my lips.
But I don’t want to move. I don’t want to leave here and re-enter reality. Not yet. Reality isn’t my friend right now. I recently lost Dante, got him back, lost him again tonight and then just got him back. I want to linger here in this moment before I risk losing him again, before any more miscommunications separate us.
And no. I’m not making any sense.
I know that.
Dante tugs at my hand and I follow him blindly. Because I’m wet and he’s right. We should go in.
But he doesn’t lead me back into the main building. He leads me to a pool-house.
It’s secluded and dark and perfect.
Once we tumble through the door, wet and dripping, Dante turns to me.
“I don’t want to go back to all of those people. I want to be here, alone with you. We can sit here and dry out and we can talk.”
His eyes are such a beautiful blue even at night in the dark. And the cleft in his chin is so masculine, so sexy. And I forgive him. I forgive him for not telling me about the stupid Regatta royalty thing because that’s exactly what it is: Stupid. And he was just trying not to upset me.
“We could talk,” I agree. “Or we can kiss some more.”
Dante reaches for me immediately.
“Your wish is my command, remember?”
And I do. I remember the day that he told me that I can have anything that I want. And I know that right here in this moment, I want him.
So I tell him so.
And he sucks in a breath and stares at me.
Because he understands exactly what I mean by that.
“Are you sure?” he whispers.
And I nod.
There are cushions everywhere inside this little pool house and I don’t take the time to wonder why. I just drop onto the nearest pile of them and pull Dante down with me. I’m on my back and he’s hovering over me and his weight is absolutely delicious against me.
Why have I been waiting?
What in the world have I been waiting for?
Because. Being here with Dante. Is Amazing.
He kisses the side of my neck and his lips slide along my wet skin. He clutches me to him and we’re desperate, but I don’t know why. The emotions from the past couple of weeks have pent up and pent up and now they’re exploding.
In a big way.
Dante’s tongue is in my mouth and he tastes like wine. And he smells like the sea. And he feels like… Dante. Like home. I moan against his fingers and he whispers into my ear.
“I don’t want you think you have to do this.”
“I want to do this,” I answer. And I do. I really, really do. “More than I’ve ever wanted anything.”
“Me too,” he says as he slides against me.
I want to tease him about having nothing more eloquent to say than that, but I find that I suddenly don’t care. This is a pivotal moment in our relationship. In my life, actually. And I don’t even care about that, about the importance of it.
All I care about right now is him.
It’s Dante.
It will always be Dante.
I know that as his mouth covers mine and he rocks against me and the world explodes.