Chapter 33
Daniela
It’s two nights before the wedding. I cook dinner for everyone, despite Liam’s objections, and then we set up outside around the firepit, ready to enjoy more of the evening.
It’s a chilly but perfect summer night, with the subtle scent of pine in the air.
Dex is here. We talked and bickered at dinner with the group like we always do, arguing over who would win in a fight—vampires or werewolves—but we didn’t speak one-on-one much.
He keeps catching my eyes across the fire, his face bathed in orange light, embers floating around him.
Something has shifted between us since the road trip, and it’s making me anxious and full of butterflies.
There’s an anticipation now that wasn’t there a week ago .
Jackson is roasting marshmallows, and I coax him into making me a couple while I sit back, looking up at the stars.
I’m trying to avoid too much eye contact with Dex because he’s looking at me like he wants to devour me whole, and I’m a weak, pathetic shell of a woman.
Every time I look over and catch a glimpse of his tanned, muscled legs spread wide in his chair while he gives me “fuck me” eyes with that intense, heavy stare, I grow weaker and weaker.
I get lost in the dancing flames as fuzzy memories from that night almost a year ago pop into my mind uninvited.
Dex’s warm arms around me, the smell of him…
and I’m pretty sure his dick was perfect, but I could be imagining that.
I’m not really sure. It was like the way a really good dream lingers for a while after you wake up.
Even though it’s hazy, you know it was a good one, and it sticks with you.
“Daniela?” Layla snaps me out of my daydream.
“Yeah?” I turn my gaze to her. It seems everyone is looking at me, including Dex, that same intensity still in his eyes.
“I was asking you if you wanted to go to breakfast in the morning. One last hoorah. We can get mimosas?”
“You know all you had to say was ‘mimosas.’ Yes.”
“You okay over there? You spaced out,” Layla says.
“Yeah. I’m fine.” I flash her a reassuring smile .
“Jackson, roast me one more, pretty please?” I plead. I’m a sucker for a roasted marshmallow. It reminds me of being a kid, I think.
“Anything for you, Daniela,” Jackson responds with glee.
My eyes involuntarily flick to Dex again, and he’s wearing a half-smirk, his lip curled up on one side.
“Jackson, you should make Dex one. I think he really, really wants it,” I say, holding Dex’s gaze the whole time, a silent challenge in my eyes.
His eyes bore into mine, and his grin spreads wider. And with that one look, all the blood in my body rushes to my core. Somehow, I’ve just lost my own challenge.
I cross my legs and look away, grabbing my marshmallow and taking my time eating it. I ignore Layla’s eyes on me. She and Liam have been having their own conversation, but I’m guessing she still caught on to something.
“Okay.” Liam and Layla both stand. “Time for bed, Jackson.”
“Aw man. Okay.” His shoulders droop, but he saunters over to give me a hug, then he moves around the fire to give Dex one. “Goodnight, guys.” He waves as he walks off. Liam and Layla both take him. They’re not very subtle. It doesn’t usually take both of them to put him to bed .
I watch them go, then sip on my wine some more, staring at the fire and avoiding eye contact with the only person left out here.
“Thanks for dinner. It was really good,” he says. “I didn’t know you could cook like that.”
I lift my gaze to him.
“You’re welcome. I have many talents you don’t know about.”
“Maybe I’d like to learn them.” His gaze doesn’t falter.
“Dex…” He needs to stop looking at me that way. I can’t hold it. We haven’t seen each other much since we got back from Sacramento, and now he can’t seem to keep his eyes off me. “You don’t want to go there.”
I shake my head, dropping my gaze to the ground.
My heart races when I see him moving toward me. And when he drops down on his knees in front of me, entering my line of sight again, a tiny gasp escapes me.
“What are you—”
He places his hands on the armrests of my chair, boxing me in and demanding my attention. I finally meet his gaze. He’s on his knees, his eyes level with me now, and I can smell his subtle, citrusy scent this close. I take a deep inhale.
“Don’t do that again, please. And don’t tell me what I want.”
This man is literally on his knees in front of me, saying please . I’m weak .
“What do you want from me?” I ask, searching his eyes.
“I want you to admit you’re as drawn to me as I am to you, and I want you to give in to it. Stop pushing me away.”
“I don’t know if I can…” I whisper.
“Try.”
“You should hate me. You should be going to the wedding with someone else. You shouldn’t be acting so kind to me…”
“What are you talking about? I could never hate you. Do you drive me crazy? Yeah. Did I try to keep my distance at first this summer? Yeah…a little. But I’m done with that. It’s impossible to stay away, and I don’t want to.”
I shake my head. “It’s what I deserve. The way I treated you…I’m so sorry. I was afraid, and I shut you out. I didn’t deserve all the times you still reached out to me afterward. I don’t even deserve your friendship, but I’ll take it.”
He looks at me, his lids heavy as he grabs my face gently.
“You’re infuriating,” he says softly, a hint of a smirk on his lips.
Then he leans in slowly, the flames dancing behind him, and finally, his lips are against mine—and it’s like I can finally breathe.
It’s not our first time, but it feels like it.
It’s our first sober time. Well, almost sober.
An involuntary whimper escapes me at the relief of having his mouth against mine at last. I didn’t realize just how badly I wanted it until now.
Suddenly he’s the only air I want to breathe, the oxygen that fuels the flames.
I reach for him, resting my arms on his shoulders and wrapping my hands around his neck.
My legs part, allowing him to move closer, and he takes the invitation.
The caress of his tongue as he explores my mouth sends me into overdrive.
I’m panting, unable to touch or taste enough of him.
His hands grip my waist firmly as I arch into him.
Then he pulls away, stealing my oxygen back and extinguishing the fire. He rests his forehead against mine, still holding me close. “Continue this another time?” he asks, laughing softly. The sound raises bumps along my arms.
I nod.
“Good. Because Mom and Dad are probably going to be back any minute.”
He turns around, adjusting himself as he makes his way back to his chair—just in time for Layla and Liam to return. We share one last heated glance before they reach us. A glance that holds the promise of more.
“We’re doing shots!” Layla announces as she returns, holding up a bottle of tequila and some shot glasses.
“Ugh,” Dex groans. “Do we have to?”
“Yes.” Liam grins. “It’s my wedding in two days and you’re my best man. ”
Layla faces me and hands me a glass. The smirk she gives me tells me everything I need to know.
“Damn it.” I roll my eyes with a sigh.
“Mhmm.” She grins even bigger.
We all raise our glasses in a toast to the wedding, and I choke mine down.
The next hour is filled with laughter and stories.
Dex and Liam reminisce about the dumb stuff they did when they were younger, and we all laugh along.
Layla and I share a story or two also, much to Dex’s delight, apparently.
“Tell the mac and cheese story!” Layla yells at Dex.
“No!” He rubs a hand down his face, groaning. “Liam, I’m going to hurt you for ever bringing that up again.”
“Mac and cheese story?” I ask, intrigued.
Dex shakes his head, avoiding everyone’s gaze. “I’ll never tell. And neither will Liam.”
“I will not rest until I find out what it is,” I say, suddenly determined to get to the bottom of this.
He quirks an eyebrow at me, clearly annoyed by the reveal. I laugh.
“Good luck with that.”
“I’ll trade you something. Anything,” I insist.
This catches his attention.
“Fine. You owe me one favor of my choosing. The details are to be discussed at a later date.” His eyes are locked on mine, mischief gleaming in them.
“Deal. ”
“Can I tell it, though?” Liam laughs.
“Absolutely not,” Dex replies firmly, shooting him a look.
“Fine.” Liam surrenders easily.
“When I was sixteen, I lost a bet and had to sit bare-ass in a giant tray of mac and cheese after a soccer banquet. That’s it. That’s the story.”
“Ugh you tell it so lamely,” Liam groans.
“That’s it?” I ask, laughing.
“Hey, do you know how hard it was to get that shit out of all my crevices?”
Everyone bursts out laughing. Even Dex tries to stifle his laughter.
“Teenage boys are so weird.” I shake my head, coming down from the laughter. “I don’t know if that’s worth your mystery favor.”
“Too late.” Dex flashes a smug smile at me from across the fire. “You’re locked in.”
He holds me in his gaze for a moment. I smile softly, staring back, remembering the feel of him between my legs, his lips on mine.
Damn it.
I’m going to need more of that.
We call it a night not much later. Dex looks like he wants to say more, but I tell him goodnight as he heads to the guest bedroom.
Maybe under different circumstances, I would go to him.
I’m tempted with every step he takes as he walks farther and farther away, flashing me one last glance before disappearing around the corner.
But this feels far too similar to the last time we ended up drunk in that same bedroom. I don’t want a repeat of that night.
I can’t.