Page 18 of Best In Class (Savannah's Best #7)

Luna

I wake up to a very hard penis nestled against the crack of my ass.

And just like that, from one heartbeat to the next, my pussy begins to throb.

“Don’t be angry,” he whispers, voice still thick with sleep.

I nuzzle back into him, letting my hand rest over his, where it wraps around my waist. “I’m not.”

And I’m not. It’d be foolish—and frankly dishonest—to pretend I don’t feel what I feel.

I love this man.

I’m not ready to say it out loud yet. Not like he has, so openly, so many times. But it’s there. Unmistakable. Warming my chest like the morning light spilling across the quilt.

Last night wasn’t a mistake.

It was right. That’s why it happened .

“I need a shower,” I say, feeling lazy.

“We’ll take one together,” he assures me.

We make it down to breakfast a little later than we’d planned because as we got ready, we kissed, we held, we hugged, we touched, we connected.

This was new.

We were children then .

Then it had felt like an inevitability. Maybe it was hormones. Maybe it was love the way it should be. But then is not now .

Now, we’re grown-ups, and it’s different. It’s more conscious. It’s a choice.

Mrs. Vann greets us with a big smile. “Sleep well?” she asks politely.

“Yes, thank you,” I reply, aware of Dom’s hand brushing my lower back as Mrs. Vann leads us to a table for two near the window that looks out over a lovely, well-kept garden.

The dining room is a vision—whitewashed beadboard walls, floral curtains drawn back to let in the sunlight, a worn oak table set with mismatched antique plates, and a centerpiece of fresh gardenias.

Dom holds out my chair like he’s courting me in 1950, and the absurd part is that it’s working.

I feel courted.

I feel seen. Cared for.

Maybe this isn’t doomed to fall apart. Maybe I won’t get hurt this time. Maybe this is my happily ever after.

Mrs. Vann brings out two heaping plates—fluffy buttermilk biscuits, scrambled eggs with chives, thick-cut bacon, cheese grits, and a side of roasted peaches that smell like sin.

“This is one hell of a breakfast,” Dom murmurs as she walks away.

“No kidding.” I pick up a biscuit. “And I’m starving.”

He chuckles and hands me the jam. “You good?”

I nod, spreading peach preserves onto a biscuit. “Better than I’ve been in a long time.”

“Yeah?” His smile is so big it hurts me to look at it.

“Yeah.” I can’t help it.

I’m falling. Falling. Falling.

He cheated on you!

He was a kid. I did stupid stuff then, too. Remember how I made him feel like he wasn’t good enough for me because he didn’t have money?

But….

Enough. I’m done with the past. We live in the now. I love him. I want him. I’m keeping him.

Until he cheats on you again.

“Moonbeam, you’ve gotta take a breath.” Dom cups my cheek. “It’s going to be okay.”

I give him a small smile, and nod.

He holds his hand out and I take it, squeeze.

I’m feeling vulnerable. Scared. Euphoric. I’m feeling so many things that it’s all mixed up in my head.

A part of me feels like a fool for getting back with a man who betrayed me.

Another part feels good, warm, happy…. Like I haven’t been since…since, well, Dom left .

“You know,” I say, reaching for my coffee, letting go of his hand, “I really liked the rainwater reclamation system at Holy Park.”

Dom blinks, then grins—because he knows exactly what I’m doing. Moving on. One step forward.

His eyes twinkle. “You changing the subject on me, Moonbeam?”

“Obviously.” I sip my coffee.

He gives me a wickedly pleased look. “So, what you’re saying is that you don’t want to talk about last night but rather about rainwater and green roofs?”

I glance at him over the rim of my cup. “Exactly. We’ll circle back to heartbreak and emotional dependency later.”

He laughs under his breath, low and warm. “I look forward to it.”

“So…did you like it?”

“I loved it,” he says suggestively, then, when I roll my eyes, he winks and adds, “the rainwater reclamation system that is. The way they integrated it into the landscaping—clean, seamless. It didn’t look like a utility feature.”

I agree, “It looked…intentional.”

We eat in easy companionship, sipping coffee, watching the small town come alive outside the lace-trimmed windows.

When it’s time to leave, I put my hand on his. “Dom?”

“Yeah?”

It makes me nervous to be this vulnerable with him again . Letting him…letting anyone back in. It’s become a habit to keep everyone out .

But Dom is…well, he’s Dom. I could resist him when I didn’t see him all the time, but now he’s in my personal space, working with me, wooing me, and….

“I’m not ready to fall headfirst again. But I am standing on the edge.”

His eyes soften. “We’ll do this on your timeline, Moonbeam. I’m not going anywhere.”

The tension in my chest unknots. Slowly. Carefully.

He threads our fingers together.

His touch is steady.

Like the past doesn’t matter as much as the foundation we’re laying now.

And maybe love isn’t a second chance.

Maybe it’s the next draft, the better one.

“You did the dirty with Dom,” Stella declares when I show up at work in the afternoon.

After Dom dropped me at home, I changed and came to work. I have a team meeting I can’t miss. I’m excited because Dom will be there.

It’s like I’m a teenager again—nervous, giddy, waiting for a glance, a brush of his hand, a moment where I get to have him all to myself.

“Did not.”

Well, a blow job is dirty in the naughtiest way possible, but I’m not telling Stella about it .

My friend closes my office door behind her and comes closer, gets in my face. She gasps after a moment. “You blew him!”

I push her away and let out an irritated sigh. “We’re in a workplace.”

She waves a hand. “ Puhlease! Did you?”

I lick my lips. “I’m not talking about sex with you.”

Stella folds her arms, tapping one ballet flat on the floor and a finger against her forearm. “Spill the beans.”

“Argh!” I fling my hands up in exasperation. “Fine! We made out. Okay?”

“And?” she prods.

“And…I think we’re going to…you know…do the….” I run a hand through my hair.

“Do the what ?” she probes.

“The dating thing,” I blurt out and then collapse onto my office chair.

Stella’s eyes widen, and then she lets out a squeal that could shatter glass. “You’re dating Dominic Calder!”

I bury my face in my hands. “Don’t say it like that. You make it sound like I adopted a tiger.”

“Well, you kind of did.” She flops into the chair across from my desk, still grinning. “He’s all smolder and brooding and tragic past and now— bam! —he’s yours again.”

I peek at her between my fingers. “We haven’t defined anything. I said I wanted time. He said he’d wait, and he wasn’t going anywhere.”

“Except down on you?” Stella remarks salaciously .

“I thought you and Noah had a sex marathon, so how come you still have sex on your brain?”

She waves a hand dismissively. “Luna, you haven’t let anyone date you in years. This is a good thing.”

I tip back on my chair. “I know….but then why do I feel like I’m walking around in someone else’s skin?”

Stella softens. “Because you’re scared.”

“Terrified,” I admit. “What if he cheats on me again?”

She shrugs. “Then you’ll deal with it. But what if he doesn’t? What if this time, he actually shows up the way you deserve? Remember young Luna?”

In my early teens, I had some behavioral issues, thanks to my fucked-up parents.

“She could be a bitch.”

“That’s harsh,” Stella protests. “Let’s say it the way it was: you had challenges at home.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” I huff out a short laugh.

“And then you grew up,” Stella points out.

I did. When I had Dom, it had been better, but then I lost him, and my world crashed around me.

“I had therapy…lots of it,” I counter.

“Dom grew up as well…maybe he had therapy, too. You’re not the people you used to be.”

I bite my lower lip.

Stella stands, smoothing her blouse, pretending like she didn’t just ambush me with emotional whiplash. “Let’s get to our meeting, and instead of glowering at him, this time, smile. Don’t overthink every second. Just have fun, hon. You deserve that. ”

“ Fun ,” I repeat like it’s a foreign word.

“Yes, Luna. Fun. Flirting. Dating. Enjoying the fact that a hot, remorseful architect is on his knees.”

I snort. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It is simple. You just make it complicated because you live in your head like it’s a one-woman war zone.”

She comes to my side of the desk and kisses the top of my head. “Let him show you how special he thinks you are.”

I take her advice.

When I enter the conference room, I smile at Dom… brightly .

And when Camy tries to snuggle up to him, it doesn’t bother me, because his eyes, those blue-blue eyes, are on me.

Damn right!