Page 118 of Dead Set on You
I press a shaky hand to my chest, unsure if my heart’s stopped altogether.
“I begged,” he says. “Iprayedfor you to stay. Even if you hated me, even if you never spoke to me again. I just needed youhere.” His throat bobs. “And then … you were.”
I don’t think I’m breathing.
“That morning when you showed up in my apartment, I thought I was losing my mind. It was impossible that you were there … aghost. And when I realized you weren’t, I felt … relief. Like maybe I had another chance to fix it.”
His confession knocks the air out of me.
Rafaelblamedhimself for the accident. “Raf …”
“One more thing, E.” His expression softens. “That’s not the only reason I couldn’t let you go.”
I swallow hard, really needing to reach out and reassure him that it’snothis fault.
“I’ve loved you for as long as I’ve known you,” he says, his voice steady, certain. “And I couldn’t let you go until you knew.”
Ohmygod.
“I came to Media Lab on a whim,” he continues, oblivious to the fact that I might be experiencing an actual heart condition. “Harry knew someone there and thought I might learn to like it. The first month I couldn’t stop thinking about how I should have stuck to law school, because nothing clicked. Nothing kept my attention too long or made me feel like I could be good at it.” A small smile splits his face. “Not until you started, not until you made me realize that I had towantto be good at something long enough tobecomegood at it. I had to try. Plan.Commit.”
I choke out a laugh through the lump in my throat.
“But I ruined it with the Betton shit. I felt lost … and I knew I had to find a way back to being your friend, and I didn’t know how. Didn’t realize what I was up against.” He levels a pointed look at me, and I huff out another laugh, even as a stray tear betrays me. “Truth is, despite your anger and your vengefulness, you made me want to be better. You made me want to work harder, to fight for what I wanted.” His voice is hoarse. “And in the end, it was you.”
I squeeze my eyes shut for a beat, overwhelmed by emotions and the need to touch him.
“When the accident happened, the thought of a world without you was unfathomable. So having your spirit around made it okay, made me feel like I had my chance to tell you how I felt, like I’ve wanted to tell you every day since the first day, especially on the days I knew you hated me most and thought Ireturned the favor.” Rafael chuckles like he’s barely holding himself together. “I didn’t understand any of it until we talked to Abuela and Helene and Doug.” He shakes his head. “You didn’t have unfinished business, E.” He lifts his gaze to mine, eyes full of something so fierce and devastating it makes my knees buckle.
“You weremine,” he says.
I feel myself swaying.
“Mamma Mia,” I breathe shakily.
“Mamma Mia,” he echoes. “You don’t have to process it all at once, E. I’ll repeat it again for you tomorrow … and the day after. For as long as you need.” He leans in, his forehead pressing against mine. “If you’ll let me.”
My pulse riots. “I just—I can’t believe—”
Rafael’s mouth captures mine, cutting off the rest. Thoughts. Words. Air.
I lean into him, into his lips. It’s not urgent, not desperate. It’s steady and certain, like he’s meant to be kissing me. Like he’swaitedto. And all the yearning—the last few weeks, maybe years of it—feed the moment.
His full, warm lips press into mine with a tenderness that makes something deep in me sigh in relief. His hands cup my face, his thumbs caressing my cheekbones. I flatten my hands against his flat, hard chest and press into him, curling my fingers into the fabric of his shirt, needing more of him, ofthis.
I tug him closer still, and he deepens the kiss. His breath is minty, with a hint of tequila. I don’t think I can have enough of him. Yet I want more.
I want him.
I shift, arching into him with a soft moan. Rafael groans. And the heat that’s been simmering between us since day one ignites, a warm pool of lava and desire, churning and burning and making me want to tear off his clothes. I tug him even closer.
Rafael chuckles against my mouth, guiding me back until the desk edge digs into my thighs and his body presses in. I drag my hands over all the parts of him I’ve wanted to touch for so long. His kisses move over all the parts of me that have needed his touch for so long.
Rafael braces his hands on either side of my hips, caging me in as he leans into me. I tilt my head, giving his lips access to my neck. His breath ghosts over my skin, coaxing a shiver. Slowly, torturously, he trails lower … down the column of my neck, pressing soft kisses in a path of slow, seductive sabotage …
I press my thighs together, resisting the urge to wrap them around him, to pull him to me and live out fantasies I’ve only dared imagine. I thread my fingers into his hair—soft and thick—and he exhales like my touch alone is undoing him.
“Dios,” he mutters into my skin, his voice raspy, reverent. “You taste like heaven.”
