Page 36 of Caesar DeLuca
As I sip from my glass, he takes swigs from the bottle and accuses me of flirting with him. I giggle at his answer despite trying to be serious.
“I’m not!” I say, snorting by mistake. “You’re the one who’s coming onto me. You can’t give me five feet of space. Everywhere I go, there you are.”
He arches a brow and takes a step toward me as if viewing what I’ve said as a challenge. We’ve been playing this bait and switch game since bottle two. I’ll say something and he’ll almost act on it, drawing us together until we come to our senses.
As we drink, chat, and laugh, I feel like we grow closer. I have fewer boundaries and thoughts about how certain lines shouldn’t be crossed.
“Ever think maybe I like being around you?” Caesar asks in a husky tone. A quality his already deep voice has developed the more wine he consumes. He sidles up ’til he’s right beside me. He slides an arm around the back of my stool, effectively confining me. “It’s not every assassination attempt that you’re taken in by a beautiful stranger. I should know—many have tried to kill me.”
My cheeks burn. I start to refute him, but he cuts me off as if knowing I would.
“I told you I find you very attractive, Ariana. Did you think I was lying?”
Yes.
He nuzzles my hair, drawing in a breath, inhaling my scent.
My eyelids flutter, tempted to snap shut and sink into desire. It’s washing over me in hot waves that I can’t help fighting. As much as I want to let the wine block out my thoughts and live in the moment, some small part of me refuses.
The insecurities are still present after all. A nagging voice that whispers in my ear and reminds me of all the things Freddie used to say.
How can I ever be vulnerable enough to trust that Caesar wouldn’t feel the same?
“You said I could kiss you,” Caesar says, his touch gentle. His fingers brush my hair behind my ear, and he turns my face to his as though he’s about to kiss me again. When he speaks, his breath tickles my lips. “So I did. I kissed you. But what if I want to do much more than that?”
“It wouldn’t be a good idea.”
“Tell me why. We’re snowed in, Ariana. It’s just me and you.”
Ugh. He’s got a point.
“I’m not looking for anything.” I nudge him aside so I can hop off the stool and put some space between us. The wine’s effect becomes even more obvious when trying to walk. The floor feels like a tripping hazard despite its flat surface.
I’ve never been a big drinker. I got drunk exactly twice in college and then once again years later during a New Year’s party and decided it wasn’t for me.
The air’s hot. The room feels suffocating. My skin burns like it’s on fire.
I stumble out of the kitchen and head for the front door. Vaguely, I’m aware of footsteps padding behind me.
Caesar’s following me. He’s talking to me, though I’m barely paying attention. I’m much more concerned with reaching the front door and stepping onto the freezing cold porch. I wrench the door open and shiver at the brisk wind that immediately slams into me.
It doesn’t deter me from wandering onto the porch anyway, where icicles have formed on the eaves of the roof and snow dusts the ground.
The cold jolts me out of my tipsiness… at least slightly.
I blink despite the icy chill that grips me and try to figure out what I’m thinking. Find out where my head truly is.
“Ariana, come inside,” Caesar says. “It’s freezing out here and you’re half dressed.”
I glance down and squeal at the fact that I’m in my sleep shirt… and nothing else.
When the hell did that happen?
Oh god.
After we kissed earlier. He’d stripped my robe off and I’d let him. That was before the second bottle.
My hands come up to cover my face and I release a shuddery breath. I’m losing it…
