Page 88 of Damián

Serena practically chokes on her champagne. “OMG! You go to Grit & Grind? Holden’s gym!”

“You know Holden?”

“Ah, hello! Everyone who is anyone knows Holden Bardot. Besides, I have a bestie who is absolutely obsessed with one of his elite fighters… You wouldn’t happen to have his phone number, would you?”

“Serena…” I groan.

“What?! Let your boyfriend earn some brownie points with your stepmom.”

“I thought you didn’t want to be seen as my stepmom,” I point out.

“Only when it’s convenient, honey.”

Damián chuckles, and his chest vibrates against my back. “Well, can’t say no if this earns me brownie points. Which fighter does she like?”

“Sawyer.”

Damián goes quiet for a second, and I think he’s trying to recall the guy’s face or remember his phone number, but then he just bursts out laughing.

“Sawyer?” he laughs again. “Yeah, tell your friend to forget it.”

“Is he gay?” Serena asks, deflated.

“More like not interested in anyone, or anything that isn’t fighting.”

“So… not a chance?”

“None,” Damián says, making circles with his thumb against my skin.

“Not even a little bit?”

“She’d have a better chance with Holden.”

“But Holden is gay,” Serena frowns.

“Exactly,” he says with a huge grin.

I’m laughing and enjoying my champagne when a drop of water hits me in the face.

Was that water?

I turn to look at the sky, and another drop hits my cheek.

Oh-oh…

Then, out of nowhere, the sky is lit by a flash of lightning, followed by a crack of thunder, and rain crashes down on us.

“Oh, my God!” Serena shrieks, shielding the champagne bottle from the rain. “My Dom!”

“Run!” I yell as I get out of the pool, then grab the rolled-up shirt, making sure the damn lipstick USB is still there.

I mean, I’ve been nervous all day knowing that if someone finds it and takes it to Rafael or my father, a lot of people will be in trouble. So I tried my best to keep an eye on it, making sure no one got close to my clothes, and I did incredibly well until Dami arrived. Because Damián is very… well… extremely distracting.

Luckily for the entire world, the USB is still there.

We scramble around, grabbing our towels, clothes, and shoes. The three of us sprint across the terrace, laughing hysterically as the wind freezes our bare skin.

We burst through the French doors into the main house, leaving puddles everywhere we go.