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CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
"Love is born into every human being: it calls back the halves of our original nature together; it tries to make one out of two and heal the wound of human nature."
~Plato
"I'm home," I called out as I closed the massive front door behind me. My voice seemed to echo through an empty house.
It was surreal to be doing this, to be coming home to Dante. If you'd asked me just weeks ago if there was a possibility that I'd be shacking up with the bastard, I would have never even entertained the notion.
I hadn't seen him for more than brief stretches, stolen moments, for the past three days. My roommates had been off work, and that, combined with fourteen hours of shooting each day, meant there'd been almost no spare time.
I missed him like it'd been months, not days.
My friends were off on another trip, and I rushed to him the first possible second I could.
It was truly getting out of hand.
"Dante?" I called out loudly, thinking for a brief moment that he wasn't there.
But he emerged a few seconds later, from a hallway to the right that I hadn't even noticed before. I really needed to get a tour of the place.
I eyed him. He was shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of athletic shorts and running shoes. He was holding both of his hands behind his back in a strange way, but I didn't notice the strangeness so much as the way it made his glistening muscles jump and skitter under his deliciously tanned skin. "You've been out running," I observed.
He bit his lip and nodded. He looked like he was trying to hold in a laugh.
It made my heart feel light to see that smile. God, how had I survived even one day without it?
"Do you not have a job of some sort?" I asked him. Last I'd heard he (predictably) worked for the Durant department store chain. He was the heir apparent to the family fortune and one of the bigger shareholders. He was filthy rich, so I supposed he could just spend his days playing around, but even in college, he'd always worked for and with his family.
"I'm taking some time off. Leo is giving me shit for it, but I don't give a damn. I'll go back soon enough."
"And you'll be able to do it . . . from L.A.?"
"Yes. But enough about that. Aren't you curious about your surprise?"
I'd completely forgotten. He'd said something about a surprise the day before. I gave him a probing look. So that's why he had his hands behind his back. He was holding something. "You know I hate surprises, right?" In my life, they had rarely been a good thing.
"I know you do, but I guarantee you'll like this one."
"It must be shoe-porn then." Shoes were always a good surprise.
He laughed, eyes twinkling at me.
My heart did a slow turn in my suddenly warm chest.
His laugh was like the first cup of coffee in the morning—warm and rich and exactly what I needed, exactly when I needed it. And God, did I need it.
"Even better," he said.
"Not possible."
With an irresistible, irrepressible grin, he pulled his hands out from behind his back.
In one of them was a little white ball of fluff that nearly passed for an oversized cotton ball.
"Meet Diablo," Dante told me.
