Page 114 of Love Arranged

Dahlia sips her wine. “Good answer. Okay, now can you tell me when you realized you loved my sister?Please.”

I don’t even bother hiding my annoyance this time. “Come on.”

“What? That should be the easiest question in the world.” She takes a sip of her wine and waits.

I glance over at Lorenzo, and his face is a blank mask.

“You don’t need to answer her,” I say before shooting her a scathing look. “She should know better than to ask that.”

He clasps my chin and turns my head until I’m looking into his eyes instead. “No need to be embarrassed,amore mio.”

My heart repeats the same short pause from earlier, missing a beat at the nickname.

Dahlia perks up. “He has a nickname for you?Cute.”

“Nothing is better thansweetheart,” Julian grumbles.

“It’s not a competition.” She shoves his shoulder, and the corners of my lips curl, my annoyance from her overbearingness gone within a blink of an eye.

Lorenzo’s warm gaze flickers over my face for a few drawn-out beats before he releases my chin and faces my sister. “I don’tthink there was an exact moment in time where I realized I loved Lily, but it was more a collection of small, impactful ones. Moments where I fell in love with her genuine heart or her quick wit or the adorable tell she has where her nose wrinkles whenever she wants to be honest but worries it might hurt someone’s feelings. Not to mention she’s confident, incredibly loyal, and so out of my league, I’m still surprised she gave me a chance.”

I don’t care what Lorenzo says.

I don’t care what lies he tells himself.

He might not love me, but his words give me hope that there is a chance he could one day. Hope I haven’t felt since I took the last gold coin my dad gave me and used my wish onhim.

I hope Lorenzo is the one I’ve been searching for, I said before tossing the coin into my dad’s fountain and watching it join the other ones at the bottom.

Maybe the wish wasn’t a waste after all.

Or maybe Lorenzo’s words right now were nothing but alie.

My nerves are on high alert when Lorenzo and I return to our hotel room. Earlier the space seemed bright and open, but now the walls feel as if they are closing in around me.

Lorenzo asks me if I want to take a shower first, but the thought only makes my heart rate spike, so I let him go ahead of me. The soft click of the door shutting sends goosebumps across my skin, only to remain there when the shower turns on.

Don’t be ridiculous, I tell myself before trying to distract myself with my phone. I scroll through social media until the bathroom door opens and a cloud of steam is let into our room.

Lorenzo walks through it, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. He looks like one of Michelangelo’s statues, meant to be ogled at from behind a red velvet rope.

Fitting, since I can look but not touch.

He ignores my existence as he heads to his suitcase and bends over, giving me a glorious view of his back muscles. He’s leaner than other men I’ve dated but more defined in a way that makes me want to trace the dips and curves of his muscles with?—

“Like what you see?” he asks without checking to confirm if I’m staring.

My eyes stretch to their limits. “How did you know…”

He turns around, hitting me with a smirk that makes heat pool in my belly. “I can feel you watching me.”

“Is that a new thing?” With the amount of times I check him out, I’m praying so.

He shakes his head, sending my mind into a tailspin.

“Couldn’t you have brought your clothes into the bathroombeforeyou showered?”

“And miss out on your reaction to seeing me shirtless? Pass.”