“You’ve never had a girlfriend? Not even in high school?”
“No, I never really saw the point. I was so busy with hockey all the time, and I didn’t want the distraction,” he explains.
“So you had hookups and one-night stands? Did you have any situationships?” I press.
Carson’s cheeks heat and I’m not sure what to make of the look on his face right now.
He takes a deep breath, and I love the way his hard chest expands against me. “I haven’t had any one-night stands. I’ve messed around a few times at parties, but I never felt comfortable going there with complete strangers. I don’t know if it was that I didn’t trust them or if I was missing out on the genuine connection.”
“Carson,” I stammer, pausing to compose myself. “Are you a virgin?”
He must think the baffled look on my face is funny because he lets out a loud chuckle. “No, I’m not a virgin. I had a situationship, I guess you could call it, at the end of my freshman year of college into the beginning part of my sophomore year. It stopped when she met someone, which was cool with me because he was a nice guy, and she and I weren’t serious. But by that time, I’d been drafted and had just won a college national championship so there was a lot of attention on me. With everything that was going on with Cadence and Mack, it felt weird bringing someone home when they moved in with me. And then, not long after they moved in, I met you, Dream Girl.” He winks at me as a coy smile spreads across his face.
Taking the medallion of his gold chain between my fingers, I turn it over to examine both sides to avoid looking at his devastatingly handsome face while I ask, “Aren’t you worried you’ll grow tired of me? I mean, I’m older than you, and it’s not that I care about experience at all, but don’t you think you’ll want to try being with other women so you know for sure what you want?”
I hate that I’m self-sabotaging right now, but I can’t help the sinking feeling in my gut that someday he’ll want to trade me in for the newer, younger model.
Carson pulls his hands from around my waist, grabs my shoulders, and bends so he’s eye to eye with me. “Look at me when I tell you this.” I comply, looking into his aqua eyes that are shimmering with sincerity. “Age is just a number, Austen. You’re barely older than me. Stop trying to find excuses to stop this before we’ve barely begun. There is no stopping this. You and me? We’re inevitable.”
He pulls me against his chest, lacing his fingers through my hair as he rocks us side to side. Kissing the top of my head, he murmurs, “Besides, why would I ever want someone else when I hit the jackpot the first time around? I’m batting a thousand when it comes to girlfriends.”
When I look back up at him, he has the cockiest smirk on his lips. “Just so you know . . . typically youasksomeone to be your girlfriend before declaring she is,” I tease.
Carson cradles my face in his hands as he stares down at me. His gaze is intense, but not in a way that frightens me. No, his gaze excites me—it ignites a passion I’ve never felt before but have longed for my entire life.
“Will you be mine, Dakota?”
“Only if you’re mine too,” I murmur in reply.
He places a chaste kiss on my lips before stepping back and grabbing my hand. “Then it’s settled. Now, let me take my girlfriend on our first proper date,” he says as we head out the door of our suite.
We walked about a mile from the hotel to a cafe, where we drank cappuccinos and ate brunch before we took in St. Mark’s Square. Doge’s Palace was unbelievable; touring it felt like we’d been transported back in time to a more regal period.
We’re now walking hand in hand down the stone streets to our final destination for the afternoon before Carson has to get back to the hotel to do his virtual therapy appointment. I’m so proud of him for prioritizing his mental health, even while we’re on vacation.
“Alright, we’re almost there,” Carson informs me as he looks up from his maps app.
“And where would ‘there’ be?” I press.
“It’s a place I think you’ll like,” he vaguely replies.
And when we stand outside of the Libreria Acqua Alta, I leap into Carson’s arms.
“Stop it! This is the only place I researched and wanted to go while we were here. I was going to suggest we come tomorrow,” I squeal in delight as I take in the exterior of the iconic bookstore. There is actually a wooden sign in front that says “Welcome to the most beautiful bookshop in the world.”
Carson chuckles at my excitement. “I’m happy that you’re happy, Dream Girl. Now, let’s get in there and shop ‘til we drop.”
When we get inside the bookstore, Carson’s eyes widen at the cluttered chaos surrounding us.
“What happened here?” he whispers out of the side of his mouth as he takes in the stacks and stacks of books in bathtubs, gondolas, and disorganized shelves.
“This is why this place is so iconic. Sometimes the city floods, so they put the books in these bathtubs and boats so they won’t get ruined,” I explain.
“Yeah, but how are you supposed to find the book you’re looking for?” he questions.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to come to this bookstore with a particular book in mind. It’s more about uncovering a hidden treasure.”
“Oh my gosh, is that an actual fricken cat?”
