chapter 28

IT'S ALMOST MIDNIGHT WHEN WE drop Mom and Dad off at their hotel. My mom fell asleep in the back seat of Dex's Range Rover, and she leans sleepily on my dad's shoulder as he leads her into the hotel. We made a plan to get brunch tomorrow, but I have a feeling Mom will need some time to sleep those martinis off.

When my parents are safely inside, Dex turns his stare to me. He's holding my hand, his thumb tracing tiny patterns across my knuckles.

"What are you thinking about?" I whisper, searching his icy eyes for some hint of the emotion he's feeling.

Lifting my hand to his mouth, he presses his lips against my knuckles, then turns my hand over to place a kiss upon my palm. The sensation sends a little shiver through me.

"I'm thinking," he says softly, "that I wanna go wherever you are. I wanna be with you, next to you, always. "

His words send butterflies fluttering through my belly, and this time I don't squash them down. "So..." My voice takes on a flirty edge. "Does that mean you're gonna take me home with you?"

It's dark in the car, but the lights from the hotel slip through the tinted windows just enough to illuminate his smile.

BACK AT DEX'S HOUSE, WE barely make it through the door before I'm pushing his suit jacket down off his shoulders and tossing the expensive material to the floor. He kicks off his shoes and picks me up so I can wrap my bare legs around him, and then he's carrying me up the stairs, his mouth on mine, my fingers in his hair.

His room is streaked in pale moonlight, and he doesn't bother turning on the light. Instead, he walks me to the bed, then lays me down on the mattress with the delicacy of someone handling something breakable, something precious. I keep my legs locked around him, pull him down on top of me.

"I missed this," I whisper, running my hands over his face like I can rediscover him through touch. "Missed the taste of you."

He catches my lips again, lowers the weight of his body onto mine.

But the energy in his kiss feels different from last time, and I pull away breathlessly to look into his blue eyes.

"Are you okay?" My voice wraps around us in the dark. "You feel... different. "

His gaze is soft, almost sad. Suddenly, I realize why it looks so familiar.

It's the expression he wore the entire time we filmed the video together, from the twin staircases to the plush king-size mattress.

He props himself up on his elbows to look down at me. "I'm scared," he says.

My thumb traces his ear, brushes against the silver cross hanging from his lobe, and he leans into my touch. "Scared of what?"

"Losing you."

He closes his eyes. A beam of moonlight cuts across his face, and I study the curve of his nose, the sharp edge of his jaw.

"My mom said love is like pickleball," I say.

Dex opens his eyes and arches a brow. "What?"

I laugh a little, and it makes him smile. "I think she meant you have to practice at it, learn how to do it right."

Dex pushes a hand through my hair, looking at me closely. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" he asks.

A rush of heat goes through me, makes my cheeks tingle. But I faced my fears in that audition, and I'm not going to stop now.

"I think I love you, Dexter Owen Reid."

His smile is immediate. He pulls away from me and rises onto his knees, and I sit up across from him. He's undoing the buttons on his dress shirt, and I watch, mesmerized, as the fabric falls away to reveal the canvas that is his skin.

Dex balls the material up and tosses it across the room, then grabs my hand and guides it to his chest. "Right here," he says. "Look closely. "

The silver moonlight illuminates his chest. My fingers brush across his skin, and I lean closer, trying to find what he's showing me.

And when I do, mist gathers in my eyes.

"Little Monster," I whisper, tracing the fresh ink embedded in the skin right over his heart. My eyes find his in the dark. "Why?"

"I thought it might help me forget how much I wanted you... like I wouldn't have to carry you around in my head if I had you on my body."

His words send goose bumps skating across my skin. "And did it work?" I ask, voice breathy.

He puts his hand over mine, pressing my palm firmly into the tattoo. "Fuck no."

A smile curls across my lips, and I whisper, "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Dex leans in, his forehead kissing mine. "Nora Elizabeth Miller," he says, his words like magic in the night, "I know I love you. I love you so bad it hurts."

The mist in my eyes turns to tears that drip down my cheeks. He kisses them away until they stop running from my eyes, until all that's left between us is the night.

I capture his lips with mine, pull him against my body, and let him lay me down in the dark.