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I run out of the room to find my phone because I’m done holding back from him anymore. How can I when he writes me a poetic letter and makes me my own embroidered gift?

The sound of Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes” playing outside has me halting at the front door.

“Shut the fuck up.”

No way.

There’s just no freaking way.

I pull at the handle, throwing the front door open.

I cover my mouth with my palm.

Oh yeah, there’s a fucking way.

47

Santiago

Chloe stares at me, wide-eyed and unmoving as her eyes bounce between my trench coat, the stereo above my head, and my face.

Yeah, I’m a fool in love. A big fool who can’t help recreating one of her favorite movie scenes just to get her back. The biggest idiot for searching high and low all over the internet for an eighties stereo like the film.

Did I need to do this? Probably not. But I wasn’t taking any risks in case my artwork didn’t win her over. Chloe is worth the sacrifice to my self-esteem.

Her feet remain planted on the front porch. I didn’t expect some grand display of affection from her, but anything is better than the silence right now. Peter Gabriel croons above my head and fills the void between us.

I shoot her a hesitant smile. Any day now.

She snaps out of her daze and runs full throttle at me. I barely have enough time to put the stereo down on the ground before she launches herself into my arms. I stumble before catching my balance.

It’s bliss, having her back with me. Her arms wrap around my neck right before her lips crash against mine. Our kiss is like two cars colliding. Uncontrolled with sparks flying and the world grinding to a halt around us. I run my fingers through her hair and lock her in place, enjoying the feel of her closeness.

God, I missed her. I missed her in my arms and the way she releases a breathy sigh when I stroke my tongue against hers.

Everything about her calls to me.

The wildness of her touch, both greedy and reverent.

The way her body molds to mine in all the right places, like she was destined to be my match.

The way she whispers my name under her breath when I run my hands down her body.

How did I survive a week without her? Scratch that. How did I make it through most of my life not knowing she existed? I could spend forever with her, and it still wouldn’t be long enough.

She breaks away from the kiss first and steps out of my embrace.

I tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I’m so sorry for hiding the truth from you. It was terrible, knowing what I did about Matteo and your dad. Keeping it a secret was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do, and I’ve done a lot of difficult things in my life. But I swear, I thought I was doing the right thing. I didn’t know what to say, and I thought Matteo would be better at explaining everything. But then he—”

She presses her index finger against my lips, stopping me. “I know. It’s not fair to hold it against you when you were put in an impossible situation to begin with. I realize that.”

My body warms at her words. “I swear from here on out that I will always tell you the truth. No matter the consequence. No matter the situation. No matter how much it could hurt me or you.”

“You promise?”

I nod.

“Even when I ask you if I look fat in a pair of jeans?”


Tags: Lauren Asher Dirty Air Romance