twenty-three

Tessa

My lips tingle with awareness, and I press my hand against my swollen lips, as if the pressure alone could stop the feel of Dante’s mouth on mine. Guilt washes over me.

Why did I let him kiss me? Why didn’t I stop him? Why did I kiss him back?

I don’t feel a sense of loyalty to Trevor, but Dante is his brother, which makes it feel wrong.

“Tess?” Dante’s voice calls from the other side of the door.

I don’t answer him. I don’t know what to say.

“Tess, stop hiding. Just talk to me.”

“I’ll be out in a minute.” I wait for the shadow cast by his feet to disappear from beneath the door, and when it doesn’t, I add, “I promise.”

Finally, he retreats, and I take a few calming breaths to collect myself. We’re friends. That’s all this is between us. It’s all it can be…no matter how much my body screams otherwise.

When I open the door, he’s leaning against the back of the couch, which faces the guest bathroom. I take a few steps forward, and when he starts toward me, I stop moving and hold up a hand.

“Whatever that was, Dante, it can’t happen again.”

He folds his arms across his chest, his eyes boring holes into me. “Why?”

“It was a mistake.” It sounds weak, even to my own ears.

“A mistake?” he asks the question as though he didn’t hear me right.

“Yes,” I say, not looking at him.

“Why was it a mistake, Tessa? Look at me,” he demands. When my eyes meet his, he says, “Explain it to me.”

“Because.”

“Because?” He rakes a hand through his hair, tugging at it. “Because isn’t an answer.”

It doesn’t matter how much I want him. Or how many times I’ve fantasized about him. “Because he was your brother. And it’s wrong.”

“Says who?” He closes the space between us.

“I don’t know.” It’s too soon. “Everyone.”

“Everyone?” He smirks. Then, his eyes grow dark, and his voice drops low. “There’s only one opinion I care about, and it’s yours. Tess—”

“Dante, please,” I cut him off, scared of what might come out of his mouth.

“Please what?”

“Right now, I need you to be my friend. I can’t handle anything more.”

The look on my face must convince him because he draws me into a hug. My arms go around his waist, and I return his embrace. Something stirs in the hollow walls of my chest where my heart used to beat.

“Okay,” he says. Then, he drops his mouth to my ear and whispers, “But, whenever you’re ready, all you have to do is jump. I promise, I’ll catch you.” He plants a kiss on my forehead. “I want you, Tessa, but I won’t push you.”

I tightly squeeze him and feel the tension leave his body.

“Now, how about I get dessert, and you pick the movie?”

He releases me and goes into the kitchen while I rummage through our choices. I pluck a gem from the otherwise lackluster movie collection.

Dante returns with two forks and the small container of tiramisu. “I’m going to make us some coffee.”

“Okay,” I answer, turning on the television and putting the movie in.

A few minutes later, he comes back with two cups, offering me the one several shades lighter than his. “What did you pick?”

The heat from the cup warms my hands as I lift it to my lips and take a sip, tasting the creamy vanilla sweetness. For half a second, time stands still. Dante takes his coffee black, yet he bought coffee creamer for me. And not some random kind either. It’s such a small thing, but somehow, it feels monumental.

“Tessa? Everything okay?”

His voice draws my attention.

“Huh?”

“You’re staring into your coffee like you’re trying to see the future. I thought people used tea leaves for that shit.” With a grin, he sets his cup down and opens our dessert.

I place the mug on the table and take one of the forks, pointing the tines at him. “You’re such a smart-ass.”

He raises an eyebrow. “What are we watching?”

“You’ll see,” I tell him.

Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock appear on the TV. I turn to look at him, and he smiles. Certainly, he wasn’t expecting a chick flick.

We settle in beside each other, sharing the tiramisu, and watch the movie.

When it becomes impossible to keep my eyes open, I lay my head against his shoulder. I know I should leave. Listen to the warning bells sounding in my head. For whatever reason, I can’t force my feet to move. And, when he slips his arm around me and kisses the top of my head, I snuggle into his touch.

I can’t move, and I’m too warm. I shift, trying to free myself, and I freeze when I feel something very big and extremely hard poking my bottom.

Oh my God. Is that…

My eyes pop open when I’m suddenly aware of what exactly that is.

“Wiggling your ass like that is only making it worse,” he says, voice deep and rough with sleep.

Mortified, I try to scramble out of his arms, but his hold tightens.

“Tess, relax. It’s not a big deal. Okay?”

He’s wrong. It is massive.

“Okay,” I agree.

Because we’re two friends, fully clothed, who just happened to fall asleep while watching a movie. On the couch. In each other’s arms. Of course, the tangling of limbs occurred after loss of consciousness.

Shit. This is awkward.

“I need to use the bathroom.”

He releases me, and I untangle my legs from his to stand.

I use the bathroom in the master, so I can borrow Dante’s toothpaste. When I come out, he is sitting up, hair sticking in all directions, and he’s rubbing the back of his neck. Sleeping on that thing all night couldn’t have been comfortable for him.

I bend slightly over the back of the sofa. “Let me help.”

He drops his hand, and I place mine on either shoulder. Pressing into his muscles with the heels of my hands, I massage away the tightness. Deliberately, I work my way to his neck and the base of his skull, using my fingers in a circular motion to ease the crick. He groans, leaning into my touch.

After several minutes, I ask, “Better?”

“Yes. Thank you.” He stands and turns to face me. He looks like he wants to say something but then seems to change his mind with a slight shake of his head. “Coffee?”

“That’d be great.”

I grab our discarded dessert container and dirty coffee cups, and then I follow him into the kitchen. I tidy up last night’s mess while he makes the coffee, neither one of us acknowledging the building sexual tension.

“Here,” he says from behind me. He sets the coffee on the counter.

He’s so close. Caging me in. I can feel the heat from his body. If I turn around—

My phone blares from the living room, and I jump out of my skin.

“I should grab that.”

Dante moves his arm, and I go to retrieve my phone.

“Hey, Mama.”

“Tessa, why don’t you and Dante come join your father and me for breakfast?” my mother says in my ear. She’s entirely too chipper this early in the morning.

“I’ll be home in a few, but let me ask Dante.” I hold my phone against my chest to muffle the sound. “Mama wants to know if you want to have breakfast with us.”

A grin spreads across his face. “I’d love to.”

Moving the phone back to my ear, I say, “We’ll be there.”

“Good.” Then, I overhear my mom say, “See, Bill? I told you they were up.”

“Be there soon, Mama,” I say, hanging up the phone.

Dante stands there, smirking at me.

“All right,” I say, walking back into the kitchen. “I’m taking my coffee, and I’m going to go shower at home. I’ll see you in a little bit,” I call out as I make a beeline to the front door, thankful for the brief walk home to reel in my libido.