“I left as soon as I could. I haven’t spoken to my father in years. Still, when I talk about that time in my life, it all hurts like it happened yesterday. So how far did I really move on, you know what I mean?”
Hena nodded. She’d moved to the other side of the country to put as much space between herself and this place as she could. But even with the rolling hills out west, these flatlands of her childhood, these memories, still held her in their vise.
“Too bad a KitKat bar can’t make it all better,” he said with a soft grin.
“It helps.” She smiled at him.
A seagull soared overhead, settling onto a buoy. She leaned down to pluck a grape from the small table. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Reza’s gaze. How it lingered on her neckline as the fabric dipped down. He looked away quickly, but not quickly enough.
Hena leaned back and crossed her arms.
“I thought I was good at reading people,” she said. “But I can’t read you, Reza.”
His eyes flicked to her mouth before meeting her eyes. A million thoughts seemed to race through his head. He shifted closer. She felt the sweetness of his breath against her face.
“What are you reading?” he asked.
They sat so close, their foreheads were practically touching. She took in his full mouth. His jaw, chiseled from stone. She wanted to kiss him so badly she ached.
“I don’t know if I want to say,” Hena said. “What if I’m wrong?”
His eyes held hers so intently Hena could barely think straight. His jaw twitched.
“You’re not wrong.”
His hand dropped to her knee. Before she could reply, he kissed her.
It was a gentle kiss. Tentative. Slow. His mouth was soft and sure. The hint of stubble on his face brushed against herskin, sending shivers down her spine. His hands glided to her waist as she drew her arms around his neck, erasing any space between them. His mouth felt made for hers.
She moved closer. Traced her hand along his jaw. She kissed him again. Harder now.
His breath hitched, and then—it was like a dam had burst. Any restraint he had dissolved. His arms circled her tighter. His mouth pressed insistently against hers. Hungry.
She tasted the salt of the sea on his tongue. She closed her eyes as his kisses traveled downward. They trailed her jaw. Her neck. Sending goosebumps down her body. He brushed aside the strap of her dress. His lips pressed against her bare shoulder and she could scarcely breathe as he eased her back against the berth. His hand skimmed to the zipper on the side of her dress. He paused, searching her eyes. For what? Permission?
She grazed the hem of his T-shirt. With one yank, she slid it over his head. Let it fall to the side. He breathed heavily as she traced her fingers over his jagged scar, pressed her palms against his bare chest. She met his eyes.
“Don’t stop now.”
So he didn’t.
The boat swayed beneath them. The world outside vanished.
It was just Reza and her. Nothing else.
17
•
Hena woke past nine o’clock the next morning, the hazy maroon walls of the bedroom sharpening slowly in the soft morning light. For a surreal moment, she wondered if last night had been a dream. They’d returned to the resort late. When Reza suggested he stay over, for safety, she hadn’t disagreed.
She replayed their night together in her mind’s eye. His mouth on hers. His body pressed against her, his arms around her as they drifted off to sleep in this very bed. The deepest sleep she’d had in days. Years, really. She reached over to the spot where he’d been, only to feel the cool touch of linens.
Oh.
Before she could dwell, she heard the front door open and shut. She grabbed a plush robe, cinched it at her waist, and stepped into the main suite. There he was, standing at the kitchen island, a brown paper bag in his arms.
“You’re up early,” he observed.
