My sleepy mind takes a moment to register his presence before I sluggishly pull myself from the warmth of his bed, eyes still heavy with sleep. Padding over to the door, I pull it open, forgetting in my early morning haze that I’m braless, dressed only in a T-shirt—one that ends halfway down my thighs.
Elio’s standing in the hallway, his hair disheveled from sleep and a hint of stubble shadowing his jaw. As his eyes meet mine, I notice them dip, slowly raking over my body in a long, languid sweep. His throat works over a silent swallow, and he blows out a breath, subtly gripping his nape.
Heat flares on my cheeks, but I hold his gaze, nibbling on my lower lip. “Morning, stranger.”
He’s not ogling, not really. His gaze is appreciative yet careful, as though he’s committing every last inch of me to memory. And then he blinks, snapping himself out of a trance.
“Sorry, got distracted for a second,” he says, a boyish grin playing on his lips. “Did you want to do a quick run to the Seashell to grab some coffee and muffins? We could take Bentley and then do a beach walk unless you were wanting to surf?”
“That’s okay.” I beam up at him. “It’s already a busy day. But I can be ready in, like, twenty minutes for coffee. If that works?”
His eyes soften. “Yeah, that’s perfect. We need to head out for the stadium around ten o’clock or earlier. It’ll take us a couple of hours to get there, and then if you want to watch the warm-ups, we need to be early.”
“Sounds good. I’ll be quick,” I say, stepping back into the room and closing the door behind me. My heart races, warmth spreading through my chest as I replay the look in his eyes, the way his gaze lingered on me.
I know it wasn’t just my imagination running wild—he’d all but admitted to it. And it feels strangely good to be appreciated like that, especially after Logan knocked me down a few pegs.
I know I’m not an unattractive person, but I think being cheated on changes something inside of you, maybe on a fundamental level.
I’ve never been one to doubt my self-worth before, to let my insecurities get the better of me. But this past month, I’ve felt like a stranger inside my own body. Elio has helped to remind me—in both the small ways and the big ones—that someone out there can still see me, understand me, and want me for exactly who I am.
After a quick shower and brushing my teeth, I dress in a pair of comfortable shorts and a Bobcats T-shirt, running a comb through my hair. By the time I make it back to the living room, Elio’s already waiting, leash in hand, his faithful companion sitting there beside him.
“And how are my boys this morning?” I ask, brushing a hand across Bentley’s golden fur.
“Just grand.” Elio passes over the handle of the leash, fishing in his pocket for his car keys. “And how’s our Daisy girl doing? That strawberry wine hitting you just right?”
I give him a soft, tender smile. “Yep,” I say, “never been better.”
19
ELIO
The bright lightsof the stadium blur into a million sparks as I walk with Daisy into the family box.
“Harps,” I call out, seeing Luca’s wife up ahead, her sunlit hair cascading over her shoulders. She’s cradling my niece, June, who’s giggling and fiddling with her mother’s necklace.
I give Daisy’s elbow a reassuring squeeze, pulling myself from the comfortable heat that always seems to surround her. Sidling up to Harper, I reach out and scoop June into my arms.
“There’s my little Junebug,” I murmur into her ear, my voice rough with affection. She’s heavier than I remember, the soft weight of her settling onto my shoulders a familiar comfort.
“Ello,” she chirps, her tiny hands wrapping themselves in my hair as she gives a delighted kick of her feet.
At the sight of Daisy, Harper’s face lights up, those misty blue eyes sparkling with warmth. She extends her arms for a hug, and Daisy steps into it with a quiet sort of joy. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Harper, Elio’s sister-in-law, and that’s my daughter, June.”
“Apparently, you two have already met,” I pipe up, nodding toward Daisy. “You used to babysit her back in the day.”
“Oh!” Harper’s lips curl into a beaming smile as recognition dawns. “Daisy ... Grey? I haven’t seen you in ages! You look so different now, so grown-up,” she gushes, her voice just as sweet as it usually is.
For as long as I’ve known her, she’s always been sunshine personified, bright, welcoming, the kind of woman who can light up a room just by walking into it.
She and Daisy have that particular trait in common.
“I’m surprised you remember,” Daisy says softly. “It was so long ago now.”
Harper’s laugh is light, the sound echoing around us. “Of course I do. You were the sweetest little kid.”
“I used to look up to you so much back then.” A faint pink splatters across Daisy’s cheeks. “Sorry if this is a weird thing to say, but I remember wanting to be just like you when I grew up.”