Page 64 of The Road to You
I narrow my eyes. “So you overdid it.”
“Maybe.” His smile is sheepish, and for a beat, we just look at each other. The silence stretches, but it’s not awkward, it’s warm, like a familiar quilt pulled over our shoulders.
I pull the blanket back in invitation, and he doesn’t hesitate, climbing in beside me like he’s done it a hundred times. He lies on top of the sheet, his bare legs brushing mine, and it feels dangerous and easy all at once.
“How do you feel?” he asks, brushing a strand of hair from my cheek.
“About what?”
“Today. My family. This whole…mess.”
I laugh, but quietly. “Your family isn’t a mess. They’re a force of nature.”
“True.”
“I feel weirdly peaceful.” I stare at the ceiling, where the moonlight dances across the beams. “I forgot about LA today. Forgot the scandal. The headlines. Even forgot that I’m Lena Sinclair for a few hours.”
His fingers find mine under the sheet. “You’re stillyouhere.”
“But notthatversion of me. Here, I’m just a woman sitting at a too-long table, trying to explain what kale is to your grandmother.”
“She said it sounds like cow food.”
“Exactly.” We both laugh again, muffling the sound into the pillow.
He shifts, propping his head up on his arm to look down at me. “You were amazing tonight. They all love you.”
“I was grilled like a swordfish.”
“You passed the test.”
“I didn’t even study.”
His grin is lazy and a little crooked, and a sharp feeling settles in my chest, both wonderful and terrifying. “I mean it. No one’s ever fit in like this before.”
“Like what?”
He shrugs one shoulder. “With them. With me.”
There’s something thick in the air between us, like a string pulled taut. I want to grab it and wrap it around my fist, hold onto it before it slips away. Instead, I ask, “Are you going to get in trouble?”
“For what?”
“For being in here.”
He pretends to gasp. “Lena. Are you trying to seduce me?”
I roll my eyes. “You snuck into my room, Moretti.”
He leans in closer, lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Maybe I missed you.”
His breath is warm, and my skin breaks out in goosebumps. “We’ve been apart for what, an hour?”
“Exactly.” He kisses my neck gently, reverently, and I shiver. I know where this is going. And I know where it won’t.
Not tonight. Not here. But in between there’s still something electric, something playful and dangerous and real.
“You’re not going to try anything,” I say, my voice way too breathy.
