Page 103 of The Great Dating Fake Off
“I thought I was cool, and you weren’t around to humble me.”
I bite my lip to trap my laugh. “But Alessia tried to, right?”
“She did. I just didn’t listen.”
It strikes me that of all the things that make this house feel cozy and homey, this permanent picture wall that serves as a family shrine is my favorite. We never went through the trouble of hanging photos anywhere we lived, because there was no point. I visualize Nella adding photos over the years, the scene playing out like a stop-motion animation in my brain.
He leans against the wall to steal my attention and swipes his thumb down my cheek. A shudder rolls through me. If it’s meant to serve as a distraction, it’s working. “Did you ever have braces?”
I momentarily lose my words at his cashmere-soft touch. “I did. I went through quite a few orthodontists too, because it coincided with Mom dating a musician who was chasing his big break. Bob Dylan he was not.”
His hand falls away. “You didn’t like the guy?”
“Eh, he was fine compared to some of the others. Now show me prom.”
He guides me down the hallway with a hand dangerously low on my back. He stops in front of a photo of him, Alessia, Enzo, and their assorted friends or dates.
“Damn it all,” I mumble.
“What’s wrong?” He shifts behind me, banding a hand across my stomach. I fall against him as if falling into his orbit.
What’s wrong is he was so damn cute, even then. He probably knew it, too. I would’ve been stuck on him like a flagpole in winter. There would have been journals with his name etched inside, because yeah, I actually did that.
I let out an embarrassing sharp breath as he nuzzles my hair. “You were, um…so unfortunate looking.”
He lets out a dark laugh and turns me around. His hand slips lower over the swell of my ass. “Be nice. I already know I wouldn’t have had a shot with you.”
His touch turns me hot and sloppy. “Sebastian, please. You were a god among mortals then and now. You wouldn’t have known my name. I was a nerd before nerds were celebrated.”
His tone is gently scolding as he swats me. I blush as I imagine how it’d feel against my bare skin. “Hardly. I would’ve asked you to tutor me and done everything in my power to make you think I was smart.”
The words catch me off guard. I turn around and search his eyes, finding a shyness so unlike him. “I would’ve known that after spending any amount of time with you.”
His gaze dips lower and my heart takes off in a nervous canter. But he doesn’t lean in.
I move on to a picture of him with what must be his parents. He looks just like his father with the same thick, almost luscious wave to his hair and blessed bone structure. “Is this the famed Mom and Dad?”
“Yes. Nadine and Carlo.”
“The doctors Rossi,” I muse. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but your dad is—
“Don’t say it.” He groans. “Don’t even think it.”
“Hot as heck.” My mischievous gaze meets his. “I’m sorry, I had to confess it to you or I couldn’t go on. And Nadine is even hotter. Wowza, this gene pool explains a lot.”
“Sorry, Enzo and Alessia both laid claim to my mother a long time ago. They both plan to make their move, should anything happen to my dad, and see who wins, which is very morbid if you think about it.”
“Your dad must feel left out, then. Can I lay a claim—”
“Nope.” He crowds me against the wall. A frame rattles behind my back. “Not happening.”
Hot blood courses through my veins as his blazing eyes hold mine. My voice sounds breathless. “Why not?”
“You know why.” His hands find my ass again like they’re magnetized. He squeezes as if that answers the question. The sting of his fingertips is too much and not enough.
After more than two weeks of not talking about anything that happened between us, I’m going a little bit out of my mind. I would love to hear him say something to the effect of because we were real so I can stop wondering if the Adirondacks were a fever dream.
Or he could kiss me. Actions speak louder than words.
