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“Dinner? You want to start with dinner?”
“Yep. I have a plan.” I smirk.
“A plan? You want to fill me in so I know what to expect?”
“I’m going to wine you, dine you, and then make you fucking mine all over again.”
“Oh God,” she whimpers, telling me that she’s about as desperate as I am.
Chapter Seventeen
Remi
The beach house is incredible. I don’t know how Ace managed to pull this off, but I can’t deny the butterflies that flap wildly in my stomach as I watch him dig around in the refrigerator.
“Are you okay in there?” I ask.
He looks so out of place here in his ripped jeans, military boots, and a black tank that shows off his tattoo sleeves. But I wouldn’t have him any other way. What a person wears or how they brand their skin doesn’t define them. I know that better than anyone.
A person’s worth is more than just designer clothes, a prep school education, and a sizable trust fund. It’s the choices they make and the scars they bear. It’s their integrity and unwillingness to conform just because society tells them to.
It’s love.
Unconditional, irrevocable love.
“Ace,” I say quietly, my pulse racing and blood ringing in my ears.
He glances at me and smiles.
Oh God, that smile.
It makes me melt.
It makes me want things.
A future and promises and a life I never saw before he barged his way into my world.
“Yeah, Princess?”
“I’ve got something to tell you.” Nervous energy vibrates inside me, and I curl my hand around the edge of the counter to steady myself.
“Fuck,” he breathes, running a hand over his head and down his neck. “It’s too much, isn’t it? I didn’t know it was going to be this flashy. I just thought it was—”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “It’s not about this... this is perfect. It’s everything, Ace, and I’m so excited to be here with you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I say, unable to hide my smile. “But there is something you should know. Two things actually.”
His brows knit, his stone mask sliding into place. My heart aches for him, knowing that he probably expects the worst.
I hope he’ll feel differently when I’ve told him. At least, about one of the things.
“After you left last night, James and I talked. I think he needed to get everything off his chest and I wanted to understand his side of the story. But I couldn’t say nothing... so I told him about Charlie being alive.”
I brace myself for the flash of anger I’ve seen so many times in his eyes, but it doesn’t come.
“You told him?”
