Page 89 of Mine Again
“You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself.”
“Probably,” I admit. “But maybe that’s okay, and this is how it happens. You choose someone because it makes sense, and the rest comes later. There’s attraction, and I enjoy his kisses. I like who I am when I’m with him. That has to mean something, right?”
Mia looks out the window for a few moments, thoughtful.
“And you’ve done a background check? Is he really who he says he is?”
“It’s all clear,” I confirm.
“And he’s a good kisser? Because you really don’t want a dud if you’re going to stay with him.”
I grin. “Yeah. He’s a very good kisser.”
Nothing, of course, compares to Luca. But he was my first love, my first everything. That’s to be expected, right?
Mia’s voice lowers. “Then don’t waste time. If he’s normal, or as normal as one can hope for us, financially stable, and looks like he could stand up to our world, go for it. God knows what might be forced on us otherwise.”
She looks serious as she taps her finger against her chin.
“If you’re sure about this, you should stay back when we go to Chicago and close the deal.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Isabella
Sebastian’s mouth moves over mine, slow and deep, as the waves crash against our feet. The water is cool, and the seafoam froths around our ankles.
He’s taken me to the beach today, while Mamma believes I’m only strolling the markets. Since Father’s death, we’ve been allowed more time outside the estate, and I’ve taken full advantage.
My fingers slide up his chest, curling at his collar, drawing him closer.
The world is nothing but the taste of salt on his lips, the steady strength of his hands at my waist, and the sea’s endless rhythm filling my ears.
I lose myself in him for a while, in the warmth of his body, in the way his kiss feels both tender and possessive. He kisses me like he means it, like this is a promise of something more.
And I let him.
Because I want this. I’ve decided. I want him.
Mia’s words flicker in my mind, threading through the haze of the moment.
You should stay back when we go to Chicago and close the deal.
But how? How do I get there?
Sebastian draws back slightly, his forehead resting against mine, his breath warm on my skin. His thumb brushes my jaw, lingering in a way I’ve come to like.
“You’re quiet today,” he says, searching my eyes.
“There’s a lot on my mind.”
“Share with me.” In true Sebastian fashion, it’s more of a demand than a request.
I let out a sigh and nuzzle into his chest, debating how to approach this.
“My mother announced a few days ago that we’re all going to visit friends in Chicago.”
“What? When is this supposed to happen?”
