25. victoria
TWENTY-FIVE
victoria
A s I rush out of the studio, the burn from his touch lingers on my skin, and I wonder if I just made a terrible mistake. None of it changes what I’ve done to him. I’m the one who broke his heart in college and did something I can’t take back. Even if that kiss made him forget for a moment, there’s no way he can forgive me that easily.
I hurriedly change into my own clothes, but when I step out of the dressing room, there’s Leo, leaning against the wall like a cover model, one leg propped up and his hair falling over his eyes.
Of course he looks like that. So dangerously handsome my heart skips a beat.
I take a deep breath to slow my galloping heart. “Were you waiting on someone?” I ask, looking down the empty hallway.
“You agreed to give me one chance. And I’m not letting you go until we finish what we started back there.” He nods toward the set.
I begin down the hall, knowing that arguing with him is futile. “Don’t get any ideas about tonight, Ego. You’re not getting past first base with me.”
He quickly matches my stride, then looks over at me, one eyebrow arching. “Pretty sure I already scored when we filmed the commercial. Or have you forgotten the part where you tackled me onto the couch?”
“That wasn’t scoring,” I say, rolling my eyes. “That was acting .”
“Sure it was,” he says with a laugh.
We agree to take his car, and he heads toward the beach. When we arrive, there’s a lone taco truck parked in the corner of the lot and only a few vehicles left for the day. The entire beach is ours.
“Still like tacos?” he asks, parking the car.
I nod, and my stomach rumbles when I smell hot onions and spicy chorizo on the grill. Back when we dated, Leo discovered a taco truck near campus that was cheap, delicious, and my favorite.
“That’s what I hoped,” he says, turning to grab a blanket and a Crushers’ hoodie from the backseat. He hands me the shirt. “For you. Because you’re always cold on the beach.”
I take the sweatshirt and slide it on, burying my nose in the familiar scent. If I could steal this hoodie, I’d never wash it again. Leo’s scent is that addictive. “Is this some trick to get me to kiss you again?”
He grins. “All part of my master plan, Victoria.”
We order tacos, and when they’re ready, we take them down to the beach, where the fading daylight paints the sky in soft pinks and violets. He spreads the blanket on the sand and invites me to sit, laying out our taco dinner between us. It might still be winter in South Carolina, but it’s an unseasonably warm day, perfect for a picnic. The wind picks up, whipping my hair into my face, and without a word, Leo tucks the loose strands behind my ear.
“Why are you being so nice?” I ask, not hiding my smile.
“Because I don’t want you eating your hair,” he answers.
I laugh, nudging him lightly. “No, I mean... all of this.” I wave my hands over the food. “A picnic on the beach in your hoodie.”
“Don’t even think about stealing that hoodie,” he warns, his lips curving into a playful grin. “It’s my favorite.”
“Then I’m definitely stealing it,” I say. “And hiding it in my room.” I grin at him as I toss a jalapeno from my taco into the cardboard tray between us.
Leo pops it into his mouth like it’s nothing, and I’m instantly reminded of all those times he finished my leftovers without a second thought. “That won’t stop me.”
“We agreed,” I say. “No coming into the bedroom.”
“I already broke that rule once, and I’m not afraid of breaking it again,” he says in a low growl I know is hardly a threat.
“Okay, Captain Grumpy Pants,” I say, giving him a playful shove. My cheeks ache from smiling. Sitting here, watching the sky turn golden feels like something I could get used to. “What happens if I wear it all the time, so you can’t steal it?”
“Hmmm, that might require me to take my hoodie back right now. Before your greedy hands refuse to comply with my demands.”
“Then you’ll have to pry it from my cold, dead body,” I shoot back, lifting a brow in challenge.
“Fine by me,” he says. Before I can react, he flips me onto my back so fast, it knocks the breath out of me.
If it were anyone else, I’d be furious at being pinned like this. But it’s Leo. His grip is firm but careful, his left hand holding my wrist while my right arm fights, unsuccessfully, to push him off.
“Leo, no!” I shriek as his free hand finds my ticklish spot. “How dare you!” I gasp between giggles, squirming to get away.
“What? You hate being tickled?” he asks innocently.
“You’re evil,” I mutter.
“Are you willing to give me my hoodie back?” he asks, pausing so I can breathe.
“Absolutely not,” I say defiantly.
“Fine,” he says, “then prepare to suffer.” His fingers find the same spot again, sending me into uncontrollable fits of laughter.
“Okay, I give up!” I cry and his hand suddenly stills on my side.
I look at his face hovering above me, his playful grin suddenly turning serious. One arm still holds my wrist over my head as his eyes drop to my lips.
“You’re not laughing anymore,” he notes in a low voice.
I drag in a shaky breath, my defenses finally crumbling. I’ve spent so long wanting to do the right thing, trying to please everyone but myself, that I’m finally ready to do something just for me.
“I’m thinking about... what I really want,” I say softly.
“And what do you want, Vic?” His voice is rough, but patient. Even if he wants this as much as I do, he’s waiting for me to say it.
A lump lodges in my throat, but I push past the fear. “How I’d like to kiss you right now.”
I trace the outline of his shoulders with my free hand, my fingers moving like an artist studying his features, not just with my eyes but with all my senses. The feel of his skin, the soft curl of his hair, the dips and curves of his muscles beneath my fingertips. It’s as though my hands are mapping every part of him—everything I’ve missed all these years.
I hesitate, my fingers stopping at the nape of his neck. Am I crazy for thinking this could still work between us? That he’d really give me a second chance after everything I put him through? Right now, it feels as if I’m standing at the water’s edge, daring myself to plunge into the waves.
“I just need to know...” I begin, my heart a drumbeat against my ribs. “...if you want me, too?” My heart feels as delicate as glass. One mistake, and he could shatter it instantly.
He gently pushes a strand of my hair over one ear, his eyes searching my face. “I’ve spent years trying not to want you, and I failed every single time.”
Then he leans down and kisses me, erasing all my doubts about whether he feels the same. As his lips move over mine, each kiss is raw and desperate, burning into a steady, consuming flame. His hand cups my face, his thumb stroking my jaw, like he’s holding back his strength, trying not to overwhelm me. When my fingers find their way to his hair, he gives a small groan of appreciation as he kisses my bottom lip.
I’m so lost in this moment that I barely register the first droplets of rain. His lips trail across the hollow of my cheek, kissing each drop away. Not until it falls faster, dampening my clothes, does it occur to me that we’re both getting soaked. He pulls back slightly, pressing his forehead to mine. “As much as I don’t want this to end, I think there’s a storm coming.”
I cup his face, palms wet, and leave two more kisses on his lips. “I don’t care if it’s storming. I want this— us —more.”
My fingers tangle in his damp hair, before I pull him back to me, kissing him with everything I’ve got.
“Vic,” he says weakly against my lips, his voice ragged, “we can’t stay here.”
A deep rumble echoes in the distance, closer now.
The rain pounds harder, plastering strands of hair to my skin. The storm is dangerously close, the lightning cutting through the sky like a warning, but I don’t want to move.
A bright flash illuminates the swelling ocean, followed by an earsplitting crack. “I don’t care if I get struck by lightning,” I say breathlessly. “I don’t want this moment to end.”
“Victoria,” he warns. “You might not care if you get struck by lightning, but I’m not losing you this way.” He picks me up in his arms and takes off for his car.
In return, I leave kisses on his rain-drenched cheeks, the line of his jaw—anything I can reach. The taco truck is long gone, the beach deserted—all that’s left is our reckless desire and a newfound joy I don’t want to end.
By the time we reach his car, we’re drenched to the bone. He sets me down gently, his hands lingering at my waist, and I can’t help but spin away, tilting my face to the sky.
“Seriously, Vic,” Leo says, his voice half-laughter, half-pleading. “Get in the car.”
“Not yet,” I say over my shoulder. I twirl in a circle, my arms stretched wide, the rain soaking me through, my smile so big it might split me wide open. Nobody told me there’s so much joy when you finally learn to let go.
Leo watches me, his lips curling in amusement. “You really don’t listen to anyone, do you?”
“Nope,” I say, happily. “And you love me, anyway.”
“You’re right, I do,” he mutters, shaking his head and laughing. “Are you going to make me haul you over my shoulder and put you in this car myself?”
I stop and look at him. “Dance with me, Leo, just this once.”
“You want me to dance... in the rain ?” The lightning and thunder are nearly gone, the rain a gentle patter now, soft and alive. “You know I don’t...”
“Leo,” I cut him off. “No excuses this time.”
He looks at me, and his face breaks into a grin so achingly sweet, my heart feels like it could burst.
He turns on his car stereo and opens all the windows.
“Is that a yes, then?” I ask. “You’ll dance with me?”
“Wildest Dreams” soars through the parking lot as he pulls me close, whispering in my ear, “If this is what it takes to show you I’d do anything for you, then yes, my love— always yes.”