Page 23

22

July

W ith Carson standing at my back, his strong arms wrapped around my waist, we stand in amazement as the renowned intro for The Eras Tour sounds throughout the stadium.

He grips onto my hips as the dancers lift the fabric from center stage to reveal the queen herself, Taylor Alison Swift.

The literal scream that comes from Carson shouldn’t surprise me, but it does nonetheless. When Carson notices my shoulders tense, he pulls me closer to his chest and brings his arms up to wrap around my shoulders. He rocks us side to side as Taylor performs “Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince.”

Out of the corner of my eye I see Kenna looking over at us. A wide smile spreads across her lips as she reaches her hand out and grabs mine.

Carson holds me in his arms like that until the opening beats of “Lover” begin to play. Spinning me around, he envelops me in his arms, leaving me to deeply breathe in his sandalwood and bergamot cologne. Resting his chin on the top of my head, he serenades me as we gently sway to the beat of the drum.

Pulling my head back, I look up at him and am captivated by his detonating grin before he brings me in for a crushing hug.

When the lights change and golden sparks start falling from the top of the stage, it’s Griff who lets out a piercing squeal just as Taylor comes skipping out onto the stage with her rhinestone guitar to sing the opening lines of “Fearless.”

The moment Carson hears “22” he lifts me into his arms and spins me around, shouting that that’s his hockey number and asking if I remembered.

“Of course I know that, I watched nearly every game of yours this season!” I shout.

“Mack! We’re going to be twenty-two next month. We’ve got to dance to this on our birthday,” he pleads.

“As if not dancing to this song on our twenty-second birthday was ever an option!” she yells as she rolls her eyes at him.

It’s only a few songs later when goosebumps erupt all over my body as Carson’s fingers dance across the base of my spine, just above the dimples on my back.

Even when I notice the opening chords of my favorite song starting to play, I can’t help but continue to stare up at Carson instead of turning toward the stage. The way the lights reflect in his eyes, giving them an almost violet hue, has me completely enthralled. As Taylor begins to sing the lyrics of “Enchanted,” it’s like he and I are in our own little world in this moment. The crowd’s deafening chants, the thousands of people surrounding us, the lights and sounds from the amazing performance before us—it all melts away as his hands skim lower, over the curve of my spine. When he gives my butt a playful squeeze, there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes, leaving my chest heaving as I struggle to catch my breath.

I want nothing more than for him to lean down and finally press his lips to mine.

When we were interrupted earlier, I could’ve cried from the depravity I felt in that moment. Since Griff and Kenna’s wedding, things have shifted between us. Honestly, probably even before then. Carson went from being a complete stranger to someone I can’t imagine going a day without talking to. I thought I’d be more guarded with my heart, but for him I think I’m willing to lay it all on the line.

We’ve lived together for over six months, but even before then, he was intentional with every interaction we had even though he knew it couldn’t go anywhere.

If I had to pick my favorite thing about Carson I don’t think I could pick just one. This man cares deeply, loves fiercely, lives freely, and I just know he’d kiss me fervently. He’s compassionate, selfless, quirky, funny, loyal, and all of those things only make him sexier, if that’s even possible, since he’s drop-dead gorgeous.

The rest of the concert passes in the blink of an eye, and before I know it, Kenna and I are in line for the restrooms.

“I can barely speak, but hearing her sing ‘Red’ as her secret acoustic song had me deceased,” Kenna croaks.

I giggle at her. “Girl, same. And watching Griff twirl you around in your sparkly red dress was unforgettable.”

She does a little shimmy-twirl combination that is something I never would’ve pictured her doing when I met her a year ago. It’s not that she wasn’t the fun and sassy woman I’ve come to adore, it’s just she wasn’t as dauntlessly in love then.

“What about when I thought for sure Carson was going to finally kiss you?” she asks.

“Which time are you talking about? When you interrupted us back at the hotel, or when you pulled me from his arms so I could dance with you during ‘Shake It Off’?”

“Wait, he almost kissed you at the hotel? When? Last night?”

My cheeks heat thinking about what I wish would’ve happened last night. “N-no. Right before we came here,” I stammer.

Kenna’s eyes flare in delight. “Oh. My. God. You blushed and stuttered when I mentioned last night. Did something happen?”

“What? No I didn’t. Absolutely nothing happened last night,” I say in a steadier voice than I feel. “We did, however, admit our feelings for each other. I hope that this isn’t weird for you, what with me being Cadence’s nanny and, I don’t know . . . seeing Carson?” It comes out as more of a question because I don’t know what we’re doing, I just know I want to pursue him.

“Well, no offense, I don’t want to know if anything did happen between you and my brother. Regardless, I’m happy for you both. I’m sure Cades will love having you become Auntie Kota.” My eyes widen at her words, but the look on my face does nothing to stop her from continuing, “Oh, or maybe she should call you Auntie KoKo since she calls Carse Uncle Car Car.”

Placing my hands on her shoulders, I tell her, “Slow your roll, Kenna. I think you’ve jumped ahead about forty chapters in the book to get to the spicy stuff.”

“Forty chapters? What kind of slow burns are you reading? I’m more of a wham, bam, thank you ma’am in the first ten chapters kind of gal.”

I’d never admit this to her, but I’m living in the quintessential slow burn at the moment, and I wouldn’t mind one bit for more of that whamming and bamming she was just talking about.

“Wait, are you writing a slow burn? What are the tropes of your novel?” Kenna presses.

I smile at her excitement, because I’m genuinely so happy to have someone who loves books as much as I do to chat about my work in progress with. “For sure there will be an age gap, rival’s daughter, pro football player, workplace romance, and I’m not sure if this is considered a trope, but vacation love.”

“If it’s not a trope, you’re about to make it one. Ah! Dakota, that sounds so good. I can’t wait to get my hands on it.”

“They fall in love in Italy, that’s why Carson insisted I come with. I hope you don’t mind that I’m interrupting the first part of y’all’s honeymoon. And I know my ticket for tonight was supposed to be for Katie, I told Carson I’d buy my own but he said he talked to Griff.”

“Oh my gosh, you’re absolutely not interrupting our honeymoon. If anything, having you and Carson join us has been an added bonus that we get to explore a new country with our friends. As for tonight’s ticket, you actually didn’t use Katie’s—Carson purchased a fifth one when he was planning out the trip.”

Learning that tidbit has me feeling relieved to hear that Griff’s sweet gesture to include and memorialize his sister wasn’t wasted on me.

Kenna pivots the conversation. “Have you started writing any scenes yet?”

“Yeah, I’ve been trying to write a few hundred words per night. It’s kind of fun chapter mapping places my characters go and things they’ll do as I get to experience them myself.”

She tries and fails miserably to fight back a laugh. “I wonder if any other parts of your story will be inspired by what you experience on this trip.”

Rolling my eyes, I give her a gentle shove, my petite frame doing nothing to her six-foot stature.

As her laughter fades, she grows more serious, biting her lip in hesitation. “How are you doing? Like, really doing? I feel like with all of the wedding planning that came together at the last minute, we haven’t had as much time to talk. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m actually excited for hockey season to start back up again so we can have more sleepovers when the boys are traveling.”

“I’m doing really well. I feel inspired to start this next chapter of my life by discovering what brings me joy—what I’m passionate about.”

“And everything with your ex and the divorce? It’s all settled and you haven’t heard from him? Has he been convicted and sentenced yet?”

“Your dad is one badass lawyer. And as you know, I was able to get an order of protection. Once that was in place, the only communication I’ve received from Aaron has been through our lawyers as everything was finalized. I didn’t want anything from him, I just wanted to be sure I never saw him again. The last update I got was that his court date for the assault continues to get pushed back.”

“I’m really proud of you, and in awe of your strength, Dakota. You got out, and you’re making yourself and your happiness a priority.”

I grab Kenna’s hand, squeeze it three times, and thank her. When I do, her eyes widen in disbelief. “Does your family do that too?” she asks.

“Do what?” I reply, confused by her question.

“Squeeze someone’s hand three times to tell them you love them. Carse and I always used to do that growing up, and of course I’d annoy the shit out of him when I’d squeeze his a fourth time to say ‘I love you more.’”

Hold the phone. Did she just say love?

Kenna must see my perplexed expression and realize that, no, my family does not do that. “By the look on your face right now, I’m going to guess that’s a no and that you only recently had someone give you the three squeezes?”

Clearing my throat, I respond, “Yeah. But I think it means something different for me and Carson. He’s been doing it here and there since I was in the hospital.”

Looking uncomfortable, Kenna just shrugs in reply.

My mind starts racing at the possibility of what this means, it only quiets once we’re out of the restroom, and Carson takes my hand in his once again. And he doesn’t let it go for the entire car ride back to the hotel. Only when we arrive at the hotel does he let mine go as he rounds the car to open my door for me.

My feet have barely hit the pavement when he tosses the keys to the hotel’s valet, and clasps my hand in his once again.

Carson leans in, combing my hair back with his fingers. “Will you come with me? I want to show you something,” he murmurs into my ear, brushing his lips along my ear, sending chills down my spine.

“Yes,” I whisper in reply.

We walk hand in hand down the cobblestone street of the Via Dante. Even though it is late, the city is still so alive with people dining together, conversation and laughter fill the air.

“Where are we going?” I question.

“There’s a place at the end of the street a local told me about yesterday. He said seeing it lit up at night is a must-see while we’re in Milan. He also gave me a few tips for the rest of our trip.”

As we approach the end of the street, the most spectacular fountain sits in front of a colossal clock tower. The circular fountain is lit from within, with spotlights surrounding it.

“This is sensational,” I gasp.

“Breathtaking,” he agrees, but when I turn to look at him, he isn’t taking in the fountain. Instead, his gaze is fixed on me.

The lights from the fountain cast a golden glow on his tanned skin and honey blonde hair, and the sight nearly brings me to my knees.

“Come here, Austen.” When he pulls me toward him, I go willingly into his arms.

Carson cups my face in his hands, rolling his thumb over my bottom lip.

Wrapping my arms around his waist, I pull him closer to me, his warmth enveloping me.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been dying to claim these lips?” His stare is fixed on my lips, and when I wet them, he closes his eyes and lets out a low groan. The sound has my stomach turning molten.

“Show me,” I practically whimper, lifting myself onto my toes to close the distance between us.

Tangling his fingers in my hair, Carson leans down and the moment his lips finally meet mine, my heart stops beating in my chest and time stands still. Everything around us ceases to exist. There is nothing in this life that feels more euphoric than the way his soft lips feel pressed against mine.

When he pulls my bottom lip into his mouth and rolls it between his, my mouth eagerly parts for him. He lets out a groan at the first swipe of our tongues, the sound causing a wave of heat crashing to my core.

Carson kisses me like time won’t go on unless his lips are pressed against mine, and I don’t think it would. Because this is the kiss that will change everything as we know it.

Nothing in my life made sense before Carson worked his way into it. Now that he’s captured my heart, I can only pray he plans to keep it safe.