Elena. I can’t believe you’re here. What a sight for sore eyes,” says a familiar, deep baritone.

My heart skips a beat.

Is it him?

I checked my dad’s secretary’s book of appointments so I knew he was coming.

“Hey, Damon.” I glance up at him in the breeziest, most casual way possible, as if I haven’t been waiting for him all day. “Here to see my dad?”

“You know it.” Damon strides toward me with his long legs and confident smile. He’s wearing a pair of faded jeans and a plain, white shirt underneath a black, leather jacket.

“How’s life?”

“Eh, can’t complain. Especially now that I’ve seen you.” He stands by my couch and spreads his arms open. “Holy shit, you’re all grown up now.”

“Careful. You’re starting to sound like an old man.” I giggle as I get up from my seat and hug him. He’s so big I have to stand on my tippy toes to wrap my arms around his neck.

He’s such a man. So big compared to my petite body. So hard compared to my feminine softness.

I’m tempted to linger. He smells so good—like musk and fresh air. And his large hand on my back feels like heaven. But if I keep this hug going any longer, he’ll notice how weird I’m being.

“Quiet day, huh? I don’t usually see you around the house anymore.” Damon asks. His breath falls hot on my neck, caressing my sensitive skin, making me crave more of him.

But instead, I pull away from the hug. With a sigh, I say, “Yeah. I do a lot of overtime at work. But I’m under house arrest now.”

“Why?” Even when he frowns, Damon’s gorgeous. Dark, mysterious eyes, high cheekbones, and thick, messy hair that makes me want to run my fingers through it.

“It’s Rosa,” I say. “She did something crazy and now my dad has a crisis of confidence regarding both his daughters. He wants us under constant supervision.”

Damon chuckles. That voice . . . I swear I’ll hear it echoing in my head the rest of the day. He says, “That sounds familiar.”

“Right?” I sit back down and smile as he does the same beside me. This is exactly why I picked the big couch instead of the smaller one-seater couch.

“What did Rosa do this time?” he asks.

“She wouldn’t tell me. Probably because it was something really stupid. And my dad wouldn’t, either.” I grin. “So I asked one of the guards and he told me she’d kidnapped an ex-boyfriend’s new girlfriend or something.”

Damon raises his eyebrows. “Whoa.”

“I know.”

“I have to say . . . this doesn’t seem like a bad thing to me. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you,” Damon says, shooting me his charming smile. His dark eyes pull me in as he gazes at me.

I can’t help it. My cheeks heat up—something I hate because it gives away the secret that I’m embarrassed. I tuck my dark hair behind my ear and look up at Damon from underneath my lashes. “It’s been too long.”

“Yeah. I think the last time we hung out was before you left for college,” he says.

“You mean before Matteo left for college,” I correct him.

Damon used to hang out with my older brother a lot, until he went overseas to continue his studies and they naturally drifted apart. After Matteo left, Damon and I still saw each other from time to time when he came here to see my dad, but we’ve never made time to just spend time together, just the two of us.

“Right.” Damon cocks a lopsided smile.

His gaze makes me forget how to behave like a normal human being. Where do I put my hands? What do I usually do with my lips?

And, is it just my imagination or it something different about the way he looks at me?

He’s as friendly as ever, of course. But in these little awkward silences, there’s also the sense that he doesn’t know what to do with me, like I’m unfamiliar.

Damon runs his fingers through his hair when wild strands poke his eyes. He has thick, dark eyelashes—I’ve always thought it’s unfair for a guy to have those.

It may seem strange, but his uncertainty feels reassuring. I’m not the only one who feels nervous in his presence.

There’s a certain . . . hunger in his eyes. A kind of longing. He wants something from me. And it gives him a tiny speck of weakness, despite his size and strength.

“So, how long will this house arrest last?” he asks.

“I don’t know. How long do you want it to be?” I ask him back, encouraged by my newfound confidence to flirt with him for the first time ever.

It’s sad, but true. I’ve had a crush on Damon forever. Yet, I’ve never said anything about it to anyone, or shown him any interest.

The corners of Damon’s lips slowly curl up. Something sparks in his eyes. He likes it when I flirt with him, I realize.

“I don’t know. Is it up to me?” he asks.

I shrug. “Depends. There may be things you can do to make staying seem like a more attractive option.”

Damon’s smile grows wider. “Hmm . . . I wonder what.”

I say nothing, but I give him a smile that I hope comes off as mysterious and alluring.

“We should do something, Elena,” he says without taking his eyes off me. “We should catch up. Not now, I mean.” He glances at the double doors.

“Maybe if you do something bad enough, my dad will keep you locked up here, too. And then we’ll have all the time in the world,” I say in my best bad-girl voice.

Damon laughs. He’s loud, but there’s something boyish about the way he laughs. Like he has just heard the funniest thing ever. Like I’ve just told the best joke ever.

I remember when I used to jump out of bed whenever I heard Damon’s laughter. I’d rush to my vanity, check my appearance, and nonchalantly go outside to join him and my brother.

“He’d sooner kill me than lock me up here with you. You’re his precious little princess and I’ll never be good enough for you,” Damon says, something dangerous gleaming in his dark eyes.

“I’m not so little anymore, Damon,” I remind him. I’ll have to admit it’s annoying to hear him say that.

With a smirk and an appreciative gaze, Damon simply says, “Evidently.”

My heart does a backflip in my chest. What does he mean by that?

Before I can delve deeper into Damon’s one-word answer, my dad’s secretary opens the door to my dad’s office and calls his name.

All day, men come into the office and leave again.

Old men. Young men. Big, burly men—many of them. Old, frail men. Friendly men. Angry men. Nameless men. Men who show up so often my siblings and I have taken to calling them uncles.

I’ve seen the secretary interact with all these people. I may be reading too much into things, but the way her gaze lingers on Damon and the way she smiles at him . . .

I don’t like thinking about Damon entering that secret room where I’m not allowed when she’s there with him. I know he’ll be talking business with my dad and not her, but it makes me feel small and excluded.

And jealous.

“Will you be here when I’m done with your dad?” Damon asks as he gets up, his eyes focused on me—not her.

“Not going anywhere,” I say.

“Good girl. See you later.”

I watch Damon’s back as he walks toward the double doors, his leather jacket stretched snugly across his broad back and his jeans hanging from his hips in a way that lets me appreciate how cute his butt is.

But more than that, I can’t help but think about . . .

Good girl.

Those two words make me feel small and sensual at the same time. Just replaying those words in my head makes me squirm in my couch.

I’ll definitely be here when he comes back out.