Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
When I would expect the door to shut, Damion kneels beside me, his expression earnest, his eyes troubled as they search my face. There are flutters in my belly with the intensity of his attention. “I’m okay,” I whisper as if he’s asked a question.
He catches my hand in his and murmurs something I cannot understand, and I’m not sure I’m even meant to understand before he whispers, “Alana,” and presses his lips to my knuckles. “I don’t believe you, but I’m going to fix it. And us.”
And then he’s gone, pushing to his feet, and shutting me inside the warm vehicle.
I’m still reeling from whatever that just was, when he climbs inside the driver’s side, claiming the captain’s seat, so to speak, the earthy scent of him consuming me. They say scent is part of what draws us to another human being. It’s a primal thing, beyond our understanding. I can believe that to be true between Damion and me. I’m drawn to him as a man in ways I am not to other men equally good-looking and successful. I have always been drawn to him. I’m not even certain when attraction and friendship became love. Probably very young, and while I didn’t understand my feelings back then, I appreciate them more with a little life under my belt. I’ve learned that a real connection is hard to find.
Damion and I have one.
It’s simply failed to lead to a happily ever after between us.
I’m not sure it ever will, and maybe on some deep, instinctual level, I knew it never would, and that’s why I insisted so intently on maintaining our friendship. But we’ve gone beyond that now, and there’s no turning back.
Chapter four
I blink and we are on the road, the dark night enveloping us, the passing streetlights flickering through the shadows, tracing the handsome lines of Damion’s face. I stare at him, transfixed by his male beauty, and I don’t know how one person can cast a spell on another that seems to last an eternity, but isn’t that in some ways the definition of happily ever after?
The music permeates my thoughts, an instrumental that needs no words to seduce the listener. “Come Get Her” by Andrew Savoia, has been all over the charts as of late, and I tell myself Damion has done just that. He’s come for me. He sought me out. He made my show happen. My finger caresses the engagement ring, and I’m transported back to a day years before.
I’d been seventeen, and obviously Damion not much older, and he’d been forced to attend a wedding at one of his parents’ Hampton estates. He’d dreaded the event and begged me to go with him, claiming I’d make it bearable. We’d done that a lot for each other through our teens, always acting as each other’s support source.
I shut my eyes and sink deeper into the memory, one not so unlike tonight in many ways.
Damion and I stand next to an ice sculpture, under some outdoor covering overlooking the ocean, the salty taste in my mouth well doused as I eat icing off his plate. “How do you eat all that sugar?” he asks.
“How do you not?” I point my fork at him. “That’s the real question.”
An announcement sounds, and we’re all told to claim a seat, for some special dessert. Yes, we had cake before dessert. It’s a little weird, but I often don’t understand the logic of rich people.
Damion grabs both our plates and sets them on a tray before he catches my hand, leading me toward a table. My palm tingles with the connection. Okay, my entire body tingles with the connection. I know he doesn’t think twice about holding my hand—we’re best friends—but the girl in me struggles with all the feels it gives me.
Fortunately, the table he’s chosen is empty, and we tilt our heads close as I ask, “Who’s the bride again?”
“The daughter of one of the board members. She’s ten years older than me. I really don’t know her.”
It’s right then that a group of Damion’s business club friends sit down, which surprises me because why are they here? Damion reads my mind, leaning in close to whisper, “Alexander’s father works with my father. He’s dating Christi, the girl with him, and they each brought friends.”
I nod, but there’s this energy at the table that is electric in all the wrong ways. There are eyes on me and whispers that feel as if they chant my name. Damion exchanges a few words with Alexander, and soon we have some sort of chocolate bonbons on a plate placed in front of us. Damion eyes me. “I know you love this.”
I grin. “What makes you think that?”
“Which one first?”
It’s a game we play, tasting new things at the same time. “The round one.” We reach for them together and take a bite. Damion immediately makes a face.