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21

July

“ A lright, thank you, Brad. I appreciate your help on this,” I tell the man on the phone before hanging up and looking over my shoulder to be sure no one overheard my conversation.

When I see a flash of movement behind me, I realize I should’ve known someone was eavesdropping. However, I’m not upset when I see Mack peek out from behind the corner of the stairwell.

“So, how much of that conversation did you snoop in on?” I query.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t set out to listen in on your conversation. I was coming to see if you were almost ready to head out for breakfast,” she clarifies.

“It’s fine, sis. I was just talking to Brad Orwell about redoing a room in my house,” I inform her.

“Yeah, I overheard. I also heard that you’re redoing Cadence’s old playroom and converting it into a library. Where did your sudden interest in reading come from?”

I do the thing with my hands that I can’t help doing whenever I’m nervous, clapping them together in front of me. “It’s not so much for my books as it is for Dakota’s,” I say sheepishly.

Mack smiles softly. “I kind of gathered.”

“Do you think it’s stupid? I probably shouldn’t be renovating entire rooms in my house for a temporary roommate.”

“It’s sweet, not stupid, and I also don’t think it’s temporary. I’ve seen the shift between the two of you lately—for a while now, actually. Have you told her how you feel?”

“It’s more than obvious to everyone how I feel about her. I haven’t necessarily been inconspicuous in my pursuit.”

That earns me a soft chuckle. “No, no, you have not. But if you recall, Griff and I had feelings for each other for years before we realized how the other felt. Even though it was evident to everyone around us, we remained clueless.”

“Yeah, I remember. Katie and I had a front-row seat to the shitshow.” My chest pulls tight, the way it always does wherever I think back on the memories from that summer. “That’s not the case with Dakota, though. I’ve told her how I feel. I’m being patient and waiting for her to catch up.”

Mack’s face softens. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re going about it the right way. Building the foundation of your relationship on friendship will make a huge difference in her security within the relationship. Dakota told me once that her relationship with Aaron was very rushed, and she felt like they got married before she even realized who he truly was.”

Biting the inside of my cheek, I mull that over. When will we ever get a better opportunity to truly get to know one another than while we’re here spending uninterrupted time together for the next month? Probably never.

“So how do I show her that what she had with Aaron wasn’t love?”

A wide smile spreads across my sister’s face. “By showing her what it should be.”

My own grin mirrors hers before we discuss the logistics of our most important mission yet: showing Dakota Meyer what falling deeply and indisputably in love is like.

Griffin and I are standing near the clear half-wall railing at the hotel bar’s rooftop terrace that overlooks the city as we wait for Mack and Dakota. They opted to get ready together in our room, so I went over to change and shower in theirs. It didn’t take long for Griff and me to get ready, thus the two of us sipping on negronis, a popular drink in Milan.

Tan arms wrap around Griff from behind, and once he sees her ring, he turns to pull Mack into his arms but stops midway to take in her outfit. “Fuck, Sunshine. You know I can’t control myself when you wear red.”

“Not something I needed to know,” I mutter.

McKenna’s got her long blonde hair pulled back into a wavy ponytail. The short red dress she’s wearing, that has Griff looking like a lovestruck idiot, has red rhinestones all over it with straps that fall off her shoulders.

Mack’s returning wink tells him she knew exactly what she was doing. “I was just choosing an era. And Red happens to be one of my favorites. I love how your shirt turned out, baby,” she says innocently as she pulls him in for a kiss. Her makeup must be magic, because when she pulls away, there’s not a trace of her red lipstick on Griff’s face.

Griffin’s shirt says “Fearlessly in love with my wife” with an arrow pointing to the side, where Mack is now tucked beneath his arm.

I look around in search of Dakota, but when I don’t immediately see her I turn back to Mack. “Where’s Dakota?” I ask. Maybe I’m just in my head, but I’m worried that after what happened this morning, she’s going to pull away from me before I’ve even had a chance to convince her to stay.

“She was going to grab us a drink at the bar and then join us out here.”

The nod I give in response hopefully comes off indifferent when I’m really feeling anything but. I’m nervous as shit to implement phase one of my mission: leave nothing unsaid.

When I notice I’m repeatedly fisting the hand not holding my drink, I slip it into the pocket of my light blue shorts and fidget with the contents of my pocket.

“Carse, you need to chill the fuck out. You look like you’re playing pocket pool right now,” Griff grumbles.

Pulling my hand from my pocket, I tip my head back and finish my drink.

Feeling a sudden, inexplicable need to turn around, I do, and when my eyes find my dream girl, my heart begins to hammer in my chest. Dakota makes her way toward us in a lavender sequin dress with a plunging neckline that has me biting my knuckles to hold in the groan that wants to slip out. Her short hair is curled and pinned back on one side. As she gets closer, I can see she has a lavender eye shadow with little rhinestones around the corners of her eyes. She completes the look with those sexy rhinestone cowgirl boots of hers.

Dakota hands one of the wine glasses she’s holding to Mack. When she turns back to me and gives me a shy smile, I try to regain my composure. Clearing my throat, I tell her, “You can take the girl outta Texas, but you can’t take the Texas outta the girl.”

That makes a genuine smile spread across her face. “You like?” she asks, biting her lip and doing a playful spin so I can see her outfit.

The sun hitting off the sequins gives her an iridescent glow, and when she spins, the short flowy skirt of her dress moves to an almost indecent length. As she turns, I see the top of her dress is actually a halter top, leaving the tanned skin of her back exposed in the backless number.

Like? Is she serious?

Is death by attraction a thing? Because if it is, I think I’m on my way to my grave. My heart thrashes wildly in my chest, causing me to sweat and undo another button of my button-up shirt.

“I love it, Austen. You’re like a living, breathing lavender haze.”

That earns me a chuckle with a cute little wrinkle of her nose. “Thank you. Oh, and look. It even has pockets!” she exclaims, showing me the side of her dress where a concealed pocket is built into the fabric of the skirt. “And let me guess,” she pauses. “You’re in your Lover era?” She gestures toward my pink and light blue tie dye button up shirt. I do my own spin so she can see the back of my shirt where it has the album’s logo across my shoulders.

“I’m never not in my Lover era,” I declare.

I love the way we banter back and forth. This exchange is feeling very . . . us. And I guess after this morning, I really didn’t think she’d be able to pivot so easily. But everything she does amazes me, so this should come as no surprise.

We didn’t really get a chance to talk about the incident this morning. With all of us being a bit jet-lagged, we slept in and had a late breakfast with Griff and Mack. Then, Dakota and Mack went off to do a little last-minute shopping for tonight and got ready in our room.

Unsure if I should bring it up or not, I play with the medallion on my chain while I consider my options. Dakota must be a mind reader, or maybe I’m just that easy to read because she gives me the slightest shake of her head and mouths, “Don’t,” to me from her spot next to Mack.

Closing the distance between us, I offer her my hand. “Can we talk for a minute?” I ask her.

Her shoulders slump as if having this conversation with me is the last thing she wants to do. She puts her hand in mine and follows me to a quieter section of the terrace.

I reach into my pocket and am about to open my mouth to speak when she cuts me off. “Look, Carson. We don’t have to have this conversation again. I know this morning was an accident, and honestly, if anyone should be apologizing here, it’s me for my behavior last night. I’m not sure what I was thinking. In fact, I think my pent-up sexual frustration stole all my good sense. Then this morning happened, and well, as I’m sure you could tell, I wasn’t immune to your touch. You see, it’s just been so long since someone has touched me like that.”

“I didn’t bring you over here to talk about this morning,” I clarify, my voice gravelly from her confession.

Her head tilts to the side in confusion and her cheeks stain my favorite shade of pink. “ Oh . Oh my gosh.” She tries to cover her face, but I gently pull her hands into mine. “Can you please spare me and pretend I didn’t just confess all of that to you?”

A deep chuckle rumbles from my chest. “No way. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget you confessing that you’re not immune to my touch, Dream Girl.”

She turns her hands over in mine to lace our fingers together, but pauses and looks up at me skeptically when she feels something in my left hand. “What’s this?” she asks.

“I made you a friendship bracelet for tonight,” I stammer. My stomach churns with trepidation as I turn my palm over and show her the green and aqua beaded bracelet.

“Thank you, that is so sweet of you.” Dakota whispers in reverence as she picks it up from my hand to examine it closer. I can tell once she’s read the letters on the bracelet because her brow knits in confusion.

Taking her hand in mine again, I clarify, “I was never calling you by the name of a city I knew you didn’t live near. I mean, of course I knew you grew up in the Dallas area as soon as you told me who your brother is.” I silently will my nerves to ease so I can get through this.

“Do you remember what you were wearing the first day I met you?” I ask her.

Her face scrunches up in the cutest way as she tries to recall. “No, I don’t.”

“Well, I do. You were wearing this beige crewneck that said ‘Pemberley est. 1813’ on it. I also overheard you telling Mack that you were an English major in college. Being a guy who loves giving nicknames, I just couldn’t help myself.”

I can see the moment it registers for her. “Austen, as in my favorite author,” she states.

“Yeah,” I reply sheepishly. “I didn’t correct your assumption that day, because I thought it was a cute inside joke between us, only you weren’t completely in on the punch line.”

She shakes her head and gazes up at me in wonderment. The one side of her bracelet says “Austen” and the other says “Dream Girl.”

“Giving nicknames to those I’m close to is kind of my way of showing them I care. It’s a term of endearment.” Brushing my thumb over her knuckles, I continue, “From the moment I met you, I had this insane feeling that you were meant to be in my life. I looked into your big emerald eyes, and it was like this moment of clarification.” I pause, clearing my throat. “Just know I would never want to push you into anything, Dakota. I’ll gladly accept you in my life in any way you’re willing to have me. Even if that means we remain just friends.”

Dakota’s green eyes bounce between mine, but the hesitation I expected to see isn’t there. Instead, I’m met with emerald eyes that burn with yearning.

“Would you say we’re just friends, Mr. Wilder?” She quirks a brow at me, her lips twitching with mirth.

I stare back at her intently as I squeeze her hands in mine three times. “The feelings I have toward you have never been friendly, Austen. Not even when I told myself you were someone else’s—I held onto this false sense of hope that maybe one day you could be mine.”

“And is that still what you want?” she whispers, before clarifying, “For me to be yours?”

My heart stops in my chest and the air seizes in my lungs at her question.

“Hey, Golden Boy?” she asks as she pulls her hand from mine and dips into one of the pockets of her dress.

“Yeah, Austen?” I reply.

She places something in my palm, and when I bring the lime green and black bracelet up to my face, I read “Golden Boy” just as she asks, “Remember when you said you wouldn’t kiss me until I’m ready to be all in?”

My eyes shoot up to meet hers, hopeful glances being shared between us.

“I’m ready now,” she whispers for only me to hear.

Stepping even closer to her, I wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her even closer. Cupping her cheek, I lower my gaze just as she licks her lips. Her lips that I’ve been dying to taste—to claim.

Lowering my lips to her ear, I ask, “You’re sure?”

She wraps her arms around my neck, playing with the hair at my nape as she pulls back and stares back at me. “I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

My knees feel weak hearing those words leave her lips.

“Mine,” I murmur, leaning in to finally claim her mouth.

“Carse, Kota? Are you guys ready to go to the stadium?” Mack asks from behind us.

Closing my eyes, I try but fail to hide my disappointment at the interruption. Dakota’s forehead crashes against my chest as she sighs in frustration.

Slipping her hand into mine, I lift her chin and place a chaste kiss on her forehead.

“Something to look forward to later,” I declare, shooting her a playful wink.

Because now that I know she’s ready, I refuse to go another day without claiming her as mine.