past started to rise, but I pushed it aside, trying to ignore it. Holden needed me right now, but I didn’t know how to help.
It took a moment for him to calm down as he opened his eyes and refocused on the picture. “Since Dante’s older than me, he remembers her, but his mother never painted a very good picture since my mom had been the other woman.”
“Hold on, you have different moms?” I instantly felt bad about letting him see my shock, so I placed my hand on his bicep and squeezed.
He put the picture down, looked at my hand, and smiled. “Yeah, Dad’s first wife was Dante’s mom. From what I’ve been told, shortly after I was conceived, Dad filed for a divorce, and after I was born, he married my mom. I guess I never thought to mention it because Dante and I have never thought of each other as half-brothers. For the most part, we were raised together and to this day, he spends as little time as possible with his mom. She’s not the nicest person, that’s for sure.”
I didn’t want him to see the surprise that was still lingering in my eyes, so I scanned the table until I noticed the next frame where the guys looked even younger.
In the last photo, Holden was wearing a cap and gown while his father stood next to him. I was drawn to this picture more than the other two. The look in Mr. Riley’s eyes here was much different. His arm was resting on Holden’s shoulder, and although he looked proud of his son, there was a lost, somewhat broken quality about his expression.
Now that was a feeling I was familiar with. I ran my index finger across his face, unable to remove my gaze. “He looks sad in this one.”
“Yeah, it used to bother me, but that’s been his usual demeanor for as long as I can remember. From what I understand, my mom was the love of his life, and he never got over losing her. He walks through life now like a piece of him died with her.” At that, he seemed to be done sharing. He took a deep breath then strolled away. “Want a glass of wine?”
What I wanted was to hear more about his parents. It was such a tragic story, but I wasn’t about to push him. He’d respected my boundaries, so it was time for me to respect his. “Sounds good.”
He returned with two glasses filled with burgundy liquid and an open bottle of wine tucked under his arm. “Would you rather sit here and talk or go up to my balcony?”
I accepted one of the glasses from him. “I didn’t see a balcony.” But I could imagine it in this place.
Appearing sheepish, he dipped his head. “It’s on the third floor. Connected to my bedroom.”
His bedroom? So I was going to his bedroom. Okay, I could do that. “I’d love to see the balcony.” This was headed in the exact direction I thought it would after that incredible kiss, but I was okay with that. “Lead the way.” I motioned toward the stairs.
A confused look crossed his face before he took the first step. I followed, enjoying the view of his fine ass right in front of me. I could definitely think of worse things that I could be doing tonight.
As we rounded the corner to the next set of stairs, he looked back, interrupting me from my lustful thoughts. I was sure it was nothing new to him, but he snickered and shook his head. At the top, he flicked on a light, and my jaw dropped. Besides a few doors to what I assumed were the closet and his bathroom, the entire third floor was his bedroom.
The very masculine room was decorated in dark blues and shades of brown and tan. The space was spotless, just like the rest of his house. Just like the gym. Any other guys’ places I’d ever been in had always smelled like the motel and looked like pigsties.
“What do you think?”
I took a quick sip of wine, giving the sweet, slightly acidic liquid a moment to slide down my throat. “It’s really clean.”
He smiled as he opened the French doors to the balcony. “That’s because I’ve been out of town, and my cleaning
It took a moment for him to calm down as he opened his eyes and refocused on the picture. “Since Dante’s older than me, he remembers her, but his mother never painted a very good picture since my mom had been the other woman.”
“Hold on, you have different moms?” I instantly felt bad about letting him see my shock, so I placed my hand on his bicep and squeezed.
He put the picture down, looked at my hand, and smiled. “Yeah, Dad’s first wife was Dante’s mom. From what I’ve been told, shortly after I was conceived, Dad filed for a divorce, and after I was born, he married my mom. I guess I never thought to mention it because Dante and I have never thought of each other as half-brothers. For the most part, we were raised together and to this day, he spends as little time as possible with his mom. She’s not the nicest person, that’s for sure.”
I didn’t want him to see the surprise that was still lingering in my eyes, so I scanned the table until I noticed the next frame where the guys looked even younger.
In the last photo, Holden was wearing a cap and gown while his father stood next to him. I was drawn to this picture more than the other two. The look in Mr. Riley’s eyes here was much different. His arm was resting on Holden’s shoulder, and although he looked proud of his son, there was a lost, somewhat broken quality about his expression.
Now that was a feeling I was familiar with. I ran my index finger across his face, unable to remove my gaze. “He looks sad in this one.”
“Yeah, it used to bother me, but that’s been his usual demeanor for as long as I can remember. From what I understand, my mom was the love of his life, and he never got over losing her. He walks through life now like a piece of him died with her.” At that, he seemed to be done sharing. He took a deep breath then strolled away. “Want a glass of wine?”
What I wanted was to hear more about his parents. It was such a tragic story, but I wasn’t about to push him. He’d respected my boundaries, so it was time for me to respect his. “Sounds good.”
He returned with two glasses filled with burgundy liquid and an open bottle of wine tucked under his arm. “Would you rather sit here and talk or go up to my balcony?”
I accepted one of the glasses from him. “I didn’t see a balcony.” But I could imagine it in this place.
Appearing sheepish, he dipped his head. “It’s on the third floor. Connected to my bedroom.”
His bedroom? So I was going to his bedroom. Okay, I could do that. “I’d love to see the balcony.” This was headed in the exact direction I thought it would after that incredible kiss, but I was okay with that. “Lead the way.” I motioned toward the stairs.
A confused look crossed his face before he took the first step. I followed, enjoying the view of his fine ass right in front of me. I could definitely think of worse things that I could be doing tonight.
As we rounded the corner to the next set of stairs, he looked back, interrupting me from my lustful thoughts. I was sure it was nothing new to him, but he snickered and shook his head. At the top, he flicked on a light, and my jaw dropped. Besides a few doors to what I assumed were the closet and his bathroom, the entire third floor was his bedroom.
The very masculine room was decorated in dark blues and shades of brown and tan. The space was spotless, just like the rest of his house. Just like the gym. Any other guys’ places I’d ever been in had always smelled like the motel and looked like pigsties.
“What do you think?”
I took a quick sip of wine, giving the sweet, slightly acidic liquid a moment to slide down my throat. “It’s really clean.”
He smiled as he opened the French doors to the balcony. “That’s because I’ve been out of town, and my cleaning
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