He Chose Her Anyway

Katya I’m just finishing getting dressed for dinner tonight. Dante is coming over. He’s my father’s best friend, practically one of my uncles. But lately his gaze felt more like a question than a warning and it fell on you more and more. I can’t explain how it makes me feel giddy when he looks at me with his steel blue eyes. I don’t know how something so icy can make my body feel like it’s on fire. I settle on a black midi dress with a princess neckline, sort of seductive in its innocence. I apply some light make up and put my hair up in a bun, leaving a few tendrils to frame my face. I’m just finishing curling those tendrils when I hear him pull up next to my parent’s SUV. I peek out the window at the glorious specimen of a man that I’ve known as long as I can remember.as he steps out of his BMW. He’s tall, broad shouldered, with a jaw that could probably cut diamonds. There’s strands of silver threading through his dark hair which he runs a hand through before walking up to the door. I come down the stairs just as Papa is opening the door for him. He greets both of my parents warmly, his cold blue eyes crinkling at the corners. Then they flick to me and he goes rigid for a moment. “Look at you princess” I blush slightly before flinging my arms around his neck. “Dante!” His arms automatically wrap around me, holding me close for just a fraction too long. He inhales deeply, like he’s breathing in my perfume. When he sets me back down, his gaze lingers on my face, my neck, my collarbone, before flicking up to meet my curious eyes. “It’s been too long since you came to visit Dante. I’ve missed you” He chuckles low in his throat, the sound sending an unexpected shiver down my spine. "You’re right. Your father keeps reminding me you're 'growing up'." “He does?” I blush deeper and glance back at Papa before returning my gaze to Dante. His eyes darken slightly as he notices my flushed cheeks. “Mm. Says you're becoming quite the young lady." *His voice sounds almost strained.* "Can I talk to you for a minute before dinner? Alone?" “I don’t see why not. Papa, can we use your office?” Papa nods and I lead Dante up the stairs. Dante closes the door as we both step into the room which smells of leather and cigars. Dante walks over the desk and leans against it, crossing his arms. “Sit down princess” I follow him to the desk and settle into the leather roller chair. “What is it Dante? You look so serious?” He watches me sit, his gaze following the line of my neck and the swell of my breasts. When he speaks, his voice is rougher than before.* "Your father showed me your college acceptance letters." I beam despite the heat of his gaze. “Yes! I got multiple offers! Stanford, NYU, OSU… I even got waitlisted at MIT!” He doesn't smile. Instead, his jaw tightens as he pushes off the desk and walks towards me, his expensive Italian shoes clicking against the hardwood floor. He stops when he's standing directly in front of me, between my knees. "Your parents want you to go to NYU. They want you close to home." His cologne—dark, spicy, and distinctly male—floods my senses. My heart races at his proximity. “I… I know… is that what you want to talk about? I’ve already told them I haven’t decided yet” His hand reaches out, not quite touching but hovering near my cheek, his knuckles almost brushing skin. “Stanford is on the other side of the country." His steel-blue eyes lock onto mine, something unreadable flickering behind them. “That's what I came to talk about." His thumb grazes my jaw, feather-light. My breath catches in my throat at his touch. “”Yes… so is OSU…” He leans down, bracing one hand on the armrest, caging me in. The air is thick and electric. “Four years is a long time, котёнок” His accent slips through on the Russian endearment—'little kitten.'”I've watched you grow up. Thought I had time." “Time for what?”