“Of course, not!” he says adamantly. “I was only trying to say that I let you slip away once, and I’m not doing it again.” His eyes soften before he leans in to place a gentle kiss on my forehead. “You are worth so much more than Z’s petty wrath.” His words are murmured against my skin, their heated promise coaxing goose bumps to line my arms.
I nod shakily, all the blood from my head rushing southward.
Nevio finally opens the door to the sleek black Mercedes. Our ride home is quiet, and I wonder what he’s thinking. Mainly to distract me from my own confused thoughts. When we pull up at my house, he tells me to wait so that he can help me from the car. I let him because I recognize that the gesture has little to do with my actual need for assistance. This is about him showing me respect,
