Chapter 16
Then—Ellery
Weak sunlight streamed into the room from the open window, waking Ellery.
Her eyes fluttered open, but her body was in no condition to move. Her muscles ached with a rich, pleasant soreness, still tingling and alive.
Besides, she had absolutely no desire to move.
She snuggled closer against Dante’s chest, pressing her leg against his. This was heaven.
His arm clenched around her, like he was worried she would leave. Her heart fluttered, a unique sensation for her, but not unpleasant. “Are you awake?”
“Yes.”
“Are you okay?”
The anxiety in his voice made her heart flutter again. She pressed a kiss to the underside of his chin, loving the way he tasted. Sweet and clean and utterly himself. “Yes.”
“Oh good.” He exhaled and relaxed against her. “I thought—”
“Stop thinking.” Ellery traced the outlines of his stomach beneath his tank, remembering the way his skin had felt against hers the night before.
He yawned, then kissed the top of her head. “Is your family awake? Should we go and meet them for breakfast or something?”
“I don’t know. I’ll text them in a minute. I’d like to lie here a little longer.”
“Me too.”
She lost track of how much time had passed as they dozed. In this bed, this room, time had a funny way of standing still.
“Aren’t you going to Hermosa Key today?’
“Yeah. I’m not sure when. My dad has his boat.”
They lay in cozy silence. Her mind lazily retraced last night’s activities and her entire body tingled.
“Hey, El?”
“Yeah?”
“I saw this tattoo shop down along the main drag. I thought I might go, if we have some time.”
She sat up and looked into his face. He was adorable, all sleepy and rumpled and sexy. “You want to get a tattoo?”
He ran a fingertip over her bare collarbone, and when he spoke, his words were halted, almost trembling. “I—you—” He sighed. “Last night meant a lot to me, and I want to commemorate it. I want to commemorate everything with you.”
“Oh.” She kissed him, long and lingering, enjoying the feeling of him beside her. She climbed over him and straddled his hips. “Maybe I should get a matching one.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s weird.” He ran his hands up and down her sides, like he was memorizing her with his touch.
Heat coiled between her legs. She hadn’t had sex in ages, and after last night, she wasn’t sure it would ever be the same.
All those years of friendship and dancing around their feelings had made for one mind-blowing connection.
“Why is it weird? People get matching tattoos all the time.”
“Yeah, people who break up and then need to pay for laser removal.”
She laughed, stretching her arms out to the sides. “Break up? You’re talking about that right now?”
“Well, I—” He ran both hands through his hair, as if exasperated. “I just—I don’t know why I’m bringing it up right now.”
Reality struck her then, like an icy fist. Her excitement cooled, and she lay down on the bed beside him.
Where was this going to go? It couldn’t go far.
Not with that no-fraternization clause that should have come with a giant neon warning sign.
Maybe she would have her dad look at it this weekend and see if there were something she could renegotiate.
She hadn’t wanted to take his help initially, but it meant more now.
Because, if she were being honest, she wanted this.
She wanted Dante. She had barricaded that desire in a deep part of her psyche so she could play music, but now she had tasted him and he was all she craved.
One night with him and she felt filled with poetry, with song, with inspiration. What would more do to her?
And yet there was Logan. Standing there in his Italian leather with his contracts and legal team, holding the future of their band, of her, in the palm of his manicured hand.
“I don’t want to think or talk about any of that. We have another few days here. Let’s enjoy them.”
“Anything you want,” he replied, kissing her head as she drifted back to sleep.
* * *
Three Years Ago—Dante
Dante had never considered himself much of a beach-loving person. He generally preferred situations where he could stay fully clothed, but here, no one seemed to care that he stayed in a rash guard and board shorts.
But with Ellery and her family, everything felt easy. It should have been awkward and confusing, inserting himself into their private lives. They were so open, though.
From the minute he walked downstairs to breakfast the morning after, her hand linked with his, her family seemed to understand. Ellery’s mom wrapped them both in giant hugs.
“Finally. I am so happy for you two.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Vaughn.”
“Oh my God, no. Call me Lizzie.”
Lizzie. Jake. Samara.
Ellery.
He joined them at the breakfast table, ordering French toast and fruit and coffee.
He sat beside Ellery on the boat to Hermosa Key, his hand linked with hers as the sea splashed around them.
To them, he was Ellery’s new, adoring boyfriend.
It all felt normal…good. Like this was where he was meant to be.
The next three days passed that way too. In a blur of happy bustle and nights entangled with Ellery. No one demanded any explanations. No one protested or put up barriers.
He wanted it to go on forever. He had always been a bit of a lone wolf, content to be himself and make his own way, not sure he ever really wanted someone to share his story with.
That was one of the biggest differences between him and Casper.
His brother had always been open, guileless, flitting from relationship to relationship.
Not Dante. It was safer, easier, to keep himself to himself.
Ellery was different. The only thing frightening him was that it might not last.
Now they were back in Key West, only a few hours to go before they had to fly back to Los Angeles.
She sat beside him at the tattoo parlor, paging through a magazine. “Since when do you read Southern Home Living?” he asked.
She laughed and tossed her hair over one shoulder. “Since my parents moved to Florida and you’ve locked me in to the next three hours of sitting here.”
“You don’t have to stay.”
“Please. I don’t want to be anywhere else.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek.
“Okay, I’m going to start now. Take some deep breaths.” The tattoo artist, a voluptuous woman whose online portfolio had some of the most original and breathtaking designs Dante had ever seen, turned on the tattoo machine. The buzzing filled the shop, and he grimaced against the pain.
It swallowed the buzz of Ellery’s phone, but he could feel it vibrate through the chair. Maybe it was the tattoo gun piercing him with paint, but the vibration filled him with despair. Something was going to happen, something he was not going to like.
Maybe if he didn’t mention that her phone was ringing, she would ignore it. Whatever she was reading in her magazine clearly held her attention.
The tattoo artist paused and swiped away some of the excess blood and paint.
During the lull, Ellery’s phone buzzed again, twice this time, as if in reprimand. She rolled her eyes and slipped it from her pocket. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped open.
“What is it?” Dante asked, though he didn’t really want to know. The dread held him fast.
“It won’t hurt so much if you relax,” the tattoo artist told him gently.
He mumbled an apology, but his gaze was fixed on the mute Ellery.
Shaking her head, she closed her eyes and handed him the phone.
With the hand not being tattooed, Dante held the phone and looked at the messages on the lock screen. Both were from Logan.
Good news. Got you an audition for America Sings
The hand holding the phone went numb as he watched Ellery dance in joy around the tattoo parlor.