Regretfully Yours by Sunniva Dee

Author:Sunniva Dee [Dee, Sunniva]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: SD Publishing
Published: 2018-04-16T16:00:00+00:00

17. FUCKING SWEET

“How’s your mom?” Ciro asks while we’re on his balcony, overlooking the Valley with all the lights flickering and dying as people and businesses go to sleep.

“She’s okay. Hasn’t had another bright idea since that last time.”

“I’m sorry about all of my shit when you should be concentrating on her.”

“So why are you stalking me then?” I float a look at him and take the glass he hands over, the one with a refill of rosé.

“Because I’m selfish.” His chin does a small, boyish lurch upward I don’t think he realizes that he does. It draws my eyes down to the miniscule indentation in his chin. Golden stubble. Not much, never much. Just enough to make me shut my eyes for a second, blocking him out.

“I need you in my life more than I’ve needed anyone.”

I open my eyes. “More than Silk?”

“Oh yes, more than Silk.”

I lean back in my chair. Send a stray gaze out over the Valley because I’m trying so hard to remain unaffected. “Since you have me—”

“I have you?” His elbows go on the table, a drizzle of silken hair covering the lower half of his arms and begging for my cheek to brush over it. I’ve done that before. I’d love to do that again.

I suck my lips into my mouth and close my eyes against his hopeful expression. Why did he light those candles? I wish he hadn’t. We’re exes with broken hearts. Circumstances don’t want us together. Suck it up. I’m like Silk now.

I meet his eyes as soon as I’m in control of myself. “No, I mean, since I’m here now, tell me more about Silk.”

“I thought you were here to learn about tomorrow?”

“First things first.”

His fingers, his hand, his bicep. Every contour of his arm as he raises it. I know I’m crumbling his privacy with a single sentence, first things first. Someone with an arm like that shouldn’t have to breach out of his comfort zone to appease me, someone he doesn’t even have anymore.

It makes me feel small like I’m on some sky bridge, extended above a valley, an ocean, the world, but he’s pushing himself, and I know why.

“You want to hear about Silk?”

“Yeah.” I’m cruel. I’m Maleficent. There are goosebumps on his arms. Those golden hairs raise from them, and suddenly a chill runs through his shoulders.

“You want to go inside?” I don’t want him to get sick.

“We could turn on the heating lamps.”

“I’m good with inside. I’m not afraid of you.” I wink at him. Strange that.

I saw him struggle. Now I see him relieved. Ciro is a mind reader of me. If I pledged a religion, I’d choose one that believed in reincarnation, because how else do I read him as well as he reads me?

The living room isn’t as cozy as the sunroom. The sunroom is where we first—

The sunroom has memories.

Princess whines. It’s late, and she wants to retreat to his bedroom.

“Kitchen?” he says, and I wish he didn’t say it in a hoarse voice.

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