It was necessary, since I designed their invitations, programs, and thank-you cards. Yet, they never mentioned Tahoe.
At the sound of approaching footsteps, a shiver runs down my spine. A moment later, he drops into the chair beside me. He’s in a dark blue flannel shirt and black jeans, his hands casually draped over the armrests. He smells like tobacco mixed with sandalwood and cinnamon, and those stupid butterflies in my stomach let loose again.
“It’s a great idea,” he says as he picks up his beer. “Way better than the plans Miles and I had for your bachelor party.”
Luna quirks an eyebrow. “And what were those plans?”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he teases. “I don’t share my secrets.”
She laughs, cuddling closer to Matt. The sight of them melts my cold heart, just a little. I never would’ve believed my brother could be so smitten, yet here we are.
“What about you?” Dom’s voice is low and far too close, startling me.
To hide my reaction, I shift in my seat and cross one leg over the other.
“You excited about going to Tahoe again?”
I arch a brow. “Are you?”
He slowly licks his bottom lip, and suddenly, my cheeks feel hot.
I refuse to look away. I won’t let him know how he affects me.
But as he leans in, his proximity threatens the sturdiness of the walls I’ve built.
“I am. Can’t wait to get to know you…again.” His focus dips to my mouth. “You’ve always been my favorite subject.”
CHAPTER 35
goodness, what did i get myself into?
MIA
Age 23
September
In my old bedroom,I stand in front of the closet, scanning the rows of clothes. Some, I brought with me from Italy, and some have been hanging here for years. I catch the hem of a satin dress and twist my lips. What was I thinking, buying this stuff? I never even wore it.
“You’ve been staring at your clothes for twenty minutes.”
Eyebrows drawn together, I look over my shoulder at Chiara, who’s propped up against the headboard, her phone in her hand.
“I’m just trying to decide what to pack. What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing. But you’re literally staring!” She nods at my open suitcase on the floor. “And it’s still empty.”
I roll my eyes and focus on my clothes again.
“Where did this indecisiveness come from?” she asks. “Does it have anything to do with a certain someone with blond hair, hazel eyes, and a devilish smirk?”
“It has nothing to do with Dominic,” I argue. “I couldn’t care less that he’s going.” I take a little black dress off the hanger and grab two T-shirts from the shelf.
“God, you’re delusional.”
Ignoring her, I toss my clothes into the suitcase.
“All I’m saying,” she continues, “is that you’re about to spend four days with the guy you never got over. Do you have a plan?”
