Page 33 of Only for Tonight
The way he says “dessert” makes it very clear what he means. My thighs clench.
Tonight. More of this. More of them.
“Takeaway sounds good,” I manage.
Luca grins. “Thought you might say that.”
“After Isabelle’s signing,” James adds. “We’ll meet back at the suite.”
Leo’s hand finds my thigh under the table and squeezes. “Then we make sure last night wasn’t a fluke, sweetheart.”
Last night wasn’t a fluke. But what happens after tonight? After tomorrow?
Finally, it’s time for Isabelle’s signing. The line is long and my hands are shaking. Leo stays with me, his presence grounding me even as my nerves spike.
“You’ve got this,” he says quietly. “Just be yourself. She’s going to love you.”
When it’s finally my turn, I approach her table with my stack of books, and my throat goes tight. This is Isabelle Stone. Thewoman whose words got me through my darkest moments. Who made me believe in love again.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Oh god, you’re going to cry.
“Hi!” She looks up and recognition lights her eyes. “You asked the question earlier. Or rather, your boyfriend asked for you.”
“He’s not—we’re not—” I fumble, heat flooding my face. “It’s complicated.”
She grins, warm and genuine. “The best things usually are.” She reaches for my books. “What’s your name?”
“Rebecca. But everyone calls me Bec.”
“Well, Bec, which one should I sign first?”
I hand herAmplified—the one that started it all. “This one changed everything for me. I read it right after a really bad breakup.” The words start tumbling out before I can stop them. “My ex told me I needed to grow up, that loving romance novels was embarrassing. He made me feel like wanting grand gestures and real love was asking too much. Like I was too much.”
Like Brett made me feel every single day.
Isabelle’s expression softens, and she reaches across the table to squeeze my hand. “Oh honey, he sounds like an idiot.”
“He really was.” I laugh, and it feels freeing. “But your books—the way you write love that’s real and messy and complicated but still worth fighting for—it made me believe I deserved that. That wanting more wasn’t childish.”
She blinks rapidly, and I realize her eyes are shining. “That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me about my work.”
“I mean every word. Your books changed my life.” I gesture to where Leo’s waiting a few feet away, giving us space but watching with soft eyes. “Actually, they kind of gave me the courage to say yes to something I never would have before.”
“The complicated situation?” she asks with a knowing smile.
“Very complicated. And very worth it.”
She signs each of my books, taking her time to personalize every single one. When she hands them back, she squeezes my hand again.
“Thank you, Bec. For reading. For caring. For being brave enough to want more and to take it when it showed up.” She glances at Leo. “And for the record? That man looks at you like you hung the moon. Complicated or not, that’s something special.”
My throat is tight as I clutch my signed books. “Thank you. For everything. For writing stories that matter.”
“Keep being brave,” she says softly. “Keep saying yes to the big, messy, complicated love. That’s where the best stories are.”
Keep being brave. But what if brave means admitting I don’t want this to end?
As I walk away clutching my signed books, James appears beside me. “How did it go?”
