Page 58 of Hot Girl Summer

“Come here,” he says, unhooking the rope and gesturing into the darkness.

I shoot him an inquisitive look.

“Just go with it.”

He walks into the dark enclosure, then steps aside to allow me to enter. Reluctantly, I follow him, and he leans behind me to clip the rope back onto the metal post.

I stand at the top of the stairs, looking down. The darkness and the unknown sends a wave of fear crashing into me, quickening my pulse as my subconscious brings back fragments ofhisdirty hands on me and the stench of alcohol onhisbreath.

I fight to hold back tears.

Danny’s here. You’re safe.

“What are we doing here?” I ask.

“Don't look back in anger, DeLuca. Take back your power,” he says, finally. The ghost of his breath in my hair sends a sheet of goosebumps across my skin, and as I turn to meet his dark green gaze, I am naked, weak and completely surrendered.

“What?”

“Change the narrative. Give into the fear and take back your power.”

Suddenly, it all makes sense. He isn’t using my past as a weapon against me. This entire time, he’s been fighting for me. With me. And now he’s giving me the push I need to change the narrative and take back my power in the place I felt powerless. The reasons why he held back at the beach and in the studio finally become clear. He needs me to take the lead, to be in control. He’s giving me the chance to make a new memory, one that’s light in the darkness.

His face edges closer, and butterflies swarm in my belly, fluttering up through my chest. I swallow them down, pushing them deep into my stomach. The warmth of his breath dances across my lips and I close my eyes, savouring the closeness I crave from him. It’s all I can think about.

Next thing I know, I’m kissing him, and everything about this moment, about his lips on mine, is sweet, and soft, and incredibly perfect. In this moment, we’re back in our bubble—without the laughter and the awkwardness—and the whole world dissolves around me.

“I’m sorry,” he says, pulling away, his lingering breath a heady scent of mint and single malt. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Stopped?” I ask, smiling against his mouth.

Now I know how kissing him feels, I can’t be without it.

“I mean...I should have asked.”

With wide eyes, I break contact, and suck my bottom lip. “Want to try again?”

He gives a gentle nod. “Sophia DeLuca...may I kiss you?”

I close the gap, parting my mouth, willingly offering myself to him, back to those lips that are more cushioned than I could have ever imagined. Nobody has ever bothered to ask before, and I find it so incredibly sexy.

With a tender touch, he cups my cheek, and wraps his other hand behind my neck, pulling me towards him, deepening our connection. His teasing tongue slides amongst mine, and I mirror his slow, deliberate movements as he unravels me. I’ve never cared for the taste of whisky, but on him, it’s exquisite.

Heat spreads between my legs as my heart threatens to pound through my sternum. I lay a hand on his chest, and I swear I can feel his heart beating just as hard. This is all too much and not enough at the same time.

I’m aching, itching for his closeness, but I tell myself to go slow, be patient. For once in my life, this has the potential to be something real. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I melt into his lean, muscular physique, backing him against the wall.

Disclosure’s Latch lends itself to my ears, while our bodies fuse together in this force field, like the famous lovers of Pompeii. My entire body feels like I’ve been injected with some kind of life-altering drug, sending me into a higher sense of self. I don’t want this to end, not when everything about kissing him feels so natural. Because when his lips are on mine and he’s kissing me like no one's ever kissed me before, I’m finally seeing what I refused to see in him.

“Hey. You’re not supposed to be back here.”

Gasping, dizzy and breathless, I turn to see who’s responsible for popping our perfect bubble. A surly woman carrying a crate of glassware stands behind the rope, and I remember where I am.

We apologise, taking a moment to compose ourselves, and climb underneath the rope, leaving the woman baring her teeth.

“Again with the disappearing act. You guys took forever,” April says, as we approach our friends.

“You know how the queue gets,” I say.

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