THIRTY-EIGHT
Milan
PRESENT
I don’t know why I brought her here of all places, of all the spots I could’ve chosen. No one has ever been here besides the guys, and even they haven’t stayed long.
I take a deep breath. A familiar scent fills my nose.
A wave of nostalgia washes over me, and I can almost picture myself as a carefree boy running around the house with my brother.
As I watch Aliya examining the photos on the wall, my gaze drifts over her body, enjoying the sight of her slender legs.
A familiar desire stirs within me, urging me to pull her back into the bedroom.
“I think the pizza’s almost done,” I interrupt her picture analysis.
“Oh, right.” She turns to me. “I completely forgot about the pizza.”
I watch her as she heads toward the kitchen, admiring how my oversized T-shirt hangs loosely on her body.
I still can’t believe I baked with her. Well, she baked while I observed her doing it.
Sitting on the stool in the kitchen, I watch her pull the tray from the oven.
“It looks delicious,” I say, letting my gaze wander over her as she slices the pizza.
She turns to me, her cheeks flushed from the oven’s heat.
She’s breathtaking.
“Come here.” I extend my hand.
Confused, she reaches for my hand and lets me pull her closer. I bury my face in her soft hair, inhaling her scent mingled with mine.
“What’s wrong?”
“You have flour on your face, sweetheart.” I drag my tongue across her cheek, licking the traces of flour and tasting the sweetness of her skin.
She lets out a shaky breath as I continue to nibble and lick at her face, my mouth traveling over her jaw and down her neck.
I feel her body push against me. Her hands cling to my shoulders as she tries not to lose her balance. “But the pizza-”
“Forget the pizza. I’m starting with dessert.”
I grab her by the waist, lift her up, and turn her so she’s sitting on the counter. She gasps in surprise, and her eyes widen as I step between her legs.
Just as I lean in to claim her lips, we’re interrupted by the sound of ringing phone.
Cursing under my breath, I pull away and reach for my phone as she hops off the counter.
“What do you want?” I growl, annoyed.
Damian’s laughter echoes through the speaker. “My sixth sense told me you were doing something naughty, and I was right.”
“Your sixth sense should focus on its own business.”
“That’s not how the sixth sense works, man.” Amusement lingers in his voice. “Mine leads me to all kinds of naughty things. You know that.”
“I honestly don’t even know why I pick up your calls.”
“Because you know you’d miss me otherwise.”
I scoff. “Sure, whatever. Can you finally get to the point? What do you want?”
It goes quiet on the other end, which is very unusual.
Damian is a lot of things, but quiet isn’t one of them.
“Are you okay?” I ask, stepping away from the kitchen.
For a moment, there’s silence, then he finally speaks up. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”
Something feels off.
“What’s wrong?”
He hesitates, and I can almost see him wrestling with himself. “I’m-” He cuts himself off, and his tone shifts abruptly. “It’s just … I’m in a bit of a quandary.”
“What do you mean?”
“I may or may not have accidentally borrowed the Tyrrells’ Ferrari without telling them.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration. “You stole the Tyrrells’ Ferrari?”
“I wouldn’t say ‘stole’. More like ‘borrowed without permission’.”
“Then return the car or burn it, I don’t care. Is that why you called me?”
I glance back into the kitchen where Aliya was standing just moments ago, but now she’s gone.
Damian laughs again, but this time there’s no real humor in it. “I just wanted to annoy you. I hope I caught you right when you were about to put it in.”
That goddamn bastard.
“Fuck you.” I hang up before he can respond.
The thought that something’s wrong with him won’t leave me alone. Even though he bothered me with his usual bullshit, it felt like he was trying to cover up something with his cockiness.
Something unpleasant.
Knowing my friend well enough, I can tell that his enthusiasm was just an act.
I look around the cabin, searching for her. But she’s nowhere in sight.
Where the fuck did she go?
“Aliya,” I call her name. No answer.
Don’t tell me she’s disappeared. Or worse …
My heart nearly stops as a thought lodges itself in my head.
The damn lighthouse.
I rush out of the cabin, wearing nothing but my sweatpants, not bothering to put anything on.
When I see her standing in front of it, relief washes over me. But the sight of her standing alone and half-naked in the pouring rain makes me frown.
I stride over to her, ignoring the rain soaking me. “What are you doing out here?”
She turns to me, wet hair plastered to her face. “Nothing.”
My eyes narrow. “You’re soaked, sweetheart.”
She shrugs, trying to act nonchalant. “I like the rain.”
I give her a skeptical look, forcing myself to look away from her curves that are barely covered by my drenched T-shirt. “You like the rain?”
Loving the rain is one thing, but catching hypothermia is another. Besides, who the hell wants to be pissed on by the sky in October? What is she, some kind of masochist?
“It’s calming.” She tilts her face up to the sky, closing her eyes as raindrops pelt down on her. “It reminds me of my dad.”
I pause. “Your dad?”
“He was an author. He loved the rain. Said it was the best inspiration for his work. The sound of the raindrops reminds me of the way his fingers tapped on the keyboard while he wrote.”
But as she raves about the rain, a nagging thought creeps into my mind.
“What about you? Do you like the rain?” she asks, curious.
I hate it. The cold, damp feeling of being soaked. The way everything feels dirty and slippery. But when I look at her, standing there in the rain, eyes closed, and face raised to the sky.
Damn, she makes it beautiful.
Oh, Little Curse, what have you done to me?
“Don’t tell me you’re scared of the rain too,” she teases. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”
I stare at her for a beat.
Jesus Christ, this girl is getting right under my skin.
She’s dangerous, but I want to keep her close to me. And I’m not even the type who needs company.
Yet I want to wrap my arms around her, pull her close and never let her go. I want to keep her safe, far away from the world, just with me.
She’s got me wrapped around her little finger. This isn’t me.
Then she looks at me and smiles. Dimples.
And suddenly, I no longer care what she has or hasn’t done in the past, what secrets she has or what danger she might be.
All I see is her, standing in the rain, looking at me with those eyes.
May heaven know that I’ll be good now.