Page 42 of Falling Into Forever
My Dante.
In here, it’s so easy for him to be the Dante I loved all those years ago, but out there? Out in the world? He’s Dante, the man who rubs elbows with famous people, smiles for the cameras, and never has a worry or fear.
“How do you do that?” My shoulders are so tense around my ears that when I roll them back, my spine crackles.
He shrugs. I don’t have to explain what I’m asking. He’s always been able to speak Saylor. “It’s a part. Out there, I’m Dante Greer.” A sexy smirk tips the corner of his lips. “It’s self-preservation, just like your sass.”
Ugh. Eyeroll.
“But how do you turn it off so quickly?” My voice sounds constipated, but I can’t change it. I’m out of my comfort zone, away from all that I can control, and it makes my guard spike to mountain-like heights.
His smile is soft and genuine. It gives the impression that it’s only for me, but it’s a reminder of how much pain he can cause—how much pain I can cause too.
“Because now I know who I am and who I want to be.” Each of his words flows through my skin, a needle stitching up the tears.
“Show off,” I grumble.
“So, how is this going to work exactly?” Ainsley asks with far too much glee in her tone for my liking. I swear to God, if she claps her hands like an excitable cheerleader, I will push her right out the front door.
She always liked Dante, even after he left. It’s the only time in our lives she wasn’t on my side.
Then the bookstore door opens with a snap of wood hitting wood, and men with boxes waltz through to my back stairs, followed by two more men with even more boxes, all wearing Jolly Joggers Moving company T-shirts.
“Up the stairs,” Dante directs.
“Ah, what the hell are you doing?” I hiss through my teeth.
He flashes the room a playboy smile that doesn’t move when he speaks. “We’re moving me in, Sassy. And we’re making a production of it.”
My head throbs. “But I thought…I thought…” What? What exactly did I think? “We’ve been here for all of like ten minutes.” More men walk through my store. “How much stuff do you have? There’s no way that’s all going to fit in my apartment.”
Shit! Are they going to touch all my stuff? My heart runs wild in my chest. I really don’t want them messing with my belongings.
A small crowd forms outside the door, but thankfully I recognize most of the faces. The comforts of a small town come with the discomfort of everyone all up in your business 24/7. There’s not a lot of privacy unless you’re an outsider. Then they’ll close ranks faster than a group of moms at a Black Friday sale.
“Half of them are empty,” Dante whispers in my ear. He lingers long enough to give the impression of a private moment. I ignore the goosebumps that sweep over my arms and down my neck, but when he inhales, a chill works through my body, and I shiver.
His hand slides to my lower back, and he ushers me to my favorite stool behind the counter, hands me my glasses, opens my laptop, and presses a chaste kiss to my forehead.
“This won’t take long, and then we have some things to discuss.” His gaze burns into my soul while I search for the closest exit. “You’re not running, Saylor. And I’m not leaving. Not this time.”
My mouth is so dry that my tongue sticks to the roof of it. I need to start drinking more water. It’s not normal to become so dehydrated from simple words. Ainsley sits in the corner of the bookstore, looking like I feel. When she leans forward like she’s going to stand, Dante turns his attention to her.
“I’d like you to stay. I hope we won’t need a mediator, but considering how our friendship started the first time, I don’t want to take any chances.” He flashes a lopsided grin, and my chest aches with memories of all my firsts. First kisses. First dances. First and only love.
Wait. How we started? Heat spreads across my exposed skin. We were forced teammates in our speech and debate class when he first made it his mission to win me over, and I did not go down easily.
My sister’s expression shouts a thousand messages at me that I can no longer receive. They bounce off me like I’m standing behind a plexiglass wall. We used to know everything about each other, and then I taught myself to reject any outside emotion.
I taught myself to compartmentalize and block feelings because it’s the only way to stay safe, but now, here Dante is, six years later, force-feeding them to me by the spoonful.
“Please,” he adds so softly that I turn to make sure his lips are moving.
I face Ainsley, silently pleading, but I can’t tell what either of them needs because I don’t have that connection, Not anymore. Not with anyone.
Not ever again. If there’s no love, there can be no pain.
I should have told him that back then. Maybe then he would understand.
