“Because,” I say, and my cheeks heat again, “you have that look in your eye.”
His smile goes sharper. “What look?”
“The one that says you’ll follow me into the shower,” I say.
He scoots closer, hand sliding up my waist like he’s proving the point. “There’s a lock,” he says, completely innocent.
I narrow my eyes. “Something tells me a lock wouldn’t stop you.”
He laughs, then leans in, kissing the corner of my mouth. “Try me,” he says wickedly, and my whole body lights up.
I want to. God, I want to.
I want to stay here all day. Forget my job. Forget the world. Let him keep breaking me apart and putting me back together.
The phone buzzes again in my hand.
“Stop it,” I say, but my voice is too soft. “I need to go.”
He pulls back, but only just. “You need coffee.”
"I do, but I don't have time. I’ll get some there.”
"I'll get it for you," he says. "You can get dressed. It'll be here by the time you're ready."
I look at him for a long minute, searching. There's something in his expression I can't read—a flicker of something serious beneath the charm.
"Okay," I give in quietly. "In a to-go cup."
His whole face lights up like I've given him the world. “Okay,” he repeats, then leans in and kisses me again, slow and deep.
I break it before it gets dangerous and blow out a breath.
“I need to find my dress.”
“That godawful thing?” he says. “It’s around here somewhere.”
I hit him on the arm.
“It’s not a bad dress,” I say with a laugh.
“It was covering up that perfect body and not doing it justice. Criminal, if you ask me,” he jokes.
I roll my eyes and glance around the room for my clothes, and find bits of clothes thrown in random spots. The whole thing looks like a crime scene.
The dress is under the window in a heap, fabric wrinkled.
“I told you it looks great on my floor,” Antonio says with a wink.
I laugh again. I think I’ve laughed more since meeting Antonio than in the entirety of any other relationship in the past.
I swing my legs toward the edge of the bed. The movement is slow. Calculated. My thighs ache, my hips ache, and I have to breathe through it like I’m doing a difficult exercise.
I suddenly realize Antonio is watching me with an amused—and very smug—look in his eye.
“Don’t you have coffee you should be ordering?” I mutter.
“And miss this?” he says, voice thick, and I snap my head to look at him fully.