Page 41 of The Road to You
She laughs, rolling her eyes before stepping onto the edge of the boat. With a graceful leap, she dives into the clear, turquoise water.
She surfaces with a gasp, pushing her hair back. “Oh my God, this feels amazing!”
I follow. The cool water is a sharp contrast to the heat still simmering between us. When I come up, she’s already floating on her back, eyes closed, her face turned toward the sun.
I swim toward her, the water lapping against my skin, until I’m close enough to touch, but I don’t.
“This is perfect,” she sighs.
I watch her, the way the sunlight kisses her skin, the way the gentle waves carry her. “Yeah,” I murmur. “It is.” She is perfect in every way, from her physical appearance to her smart brain, her kindness, and her sense of humor. I could watch her for the rest of my life.
She catches me staring, and her lips tilt up in a knowing smile. “Is that a confession, Moretti?”
“Maybe.” I shrug. I can’t deny my attraction to her, and I’m pretty sure she already knows I like her.
She treads water again, tilting her head. “You never answered my question. If you hear the sirens, what would you do?”
I smirk. “I already told you. You’re the only siren I’d listen to.”
She watches me for a long moment, and I can see the shift in her eyes, the teasing edge softening, and something warmer settling in. Something dangerous. Because if I let myself sink into her soul, I won’t resurface.
She reaches out suddenly, skimming the water between us with her fingers, sending ripples that touch my skin. It’s barely anything, just a graze, but it feels like more. Like an invitation. And I want to take it. I want her hands tracing a scorching path down my skin.
I swim closer, the distance shrinking until there’s nothing but the sea and the sound of our breath. She’s looking at my mouth now. I should pull away. I should say something light, make a joke, steer us back into safer waters, but I don’t.
Instead, I lift my hand, brushing a stray drop of water from her cheek with my thumb. Her skin is warm, soft, and when she exhales, her breath fans against my lips. My body tightens in response, ready to reach out and drag her into the right place, between my arms.
I can’t tell if I move first or if she does, but suddenly, the space between us is nearly gone. Nearly is the key word here.
Because Matteo choosesthatexact moment to yell from the boat, “You two planning on breathing anytime soon, or should I start CPR drills?”
The asshole has every intention of ruining this moment; if he wasn’t a friend, I would have flipped him off. He’s getting revenge for the time I ruined his chance with my sister, telling her he just dumped his girlfriend. He’s a friend, but I know how he jumps from one woman to another without a second thought, and I’m the kind of asshole brother that doesn’t wantthatkind of guy for his sister. Perhaps not my best move, but I don’t regret doing it.
Lena jerks back with a laugh, cheeks flushed. “We’re fine!” she calls, glancing at me with sparkling eyes and a bit of lust lingering in her gaze.
I exhale, dragging a hand through my hair, chuckling. “He’s got great timing.” That asshole was watching and waiting for this exact moment.
She grins. “Yeah. Fantastic.”
Almost as if he knewexactlywhat he was doing.
We swim for another moment, letting the tension settle before she nudges me playfully. “Race you back to the boat?”
I smirk. “You sure you want to lose that badly?”
She gasps, mock-offended. “Oh, it’son, Moretti.”
And with effortless ease, the moment shifts again, back to laughter, teasing, back to whateverthisis between us.
Lena flops onto the cushioned bench at the back of the boat. Her hair is still damp from the swim, and her skin is glowing under the midday sun. I sit across from her, leaning against the side of the boat, stretching my legs out. Matteo has already set up a small spread for us: platters of fresh fruit, caprese sandwiches, and a bowl of lemony seafood salad. A bottle of chilled white wine sweats beside it, the condensation rolling down the glass.
“You didn’t tell me this was a luxury cruise,” Lena teases, reaching for a strawberry. She bites into it and her lips stain red. I watch as she licks them, my body lighting up in response.
I shrug, watching her too closely. “What can I say? I have connections.”
She smirks, chewing thoughtfully. “And by connections, you mean Matteo?”
“Exactly.” I grin.
