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I remember correctly, summer looks really good on you.” “Only summer?” I chuckle. “You, Lily, are the muse behind every season.”
“You’ve been practically pleading on your knees since we landed.” Nico leans closer, keeping my arm firmly behind my back, and brushes a fallen strand of hair out of my eyes. “Is that what you want, Lily? For me to beg for it?”
“You look so pretty tonight, Lily. It almost hurts being around you.”
“This is such a bad idea.” The devil incarnate stares at me through Nico’s eyes. “Want me to convince you it isn’t?”
“If I haven’t made it clear already”—he slides his fingers into me and curls them—“I’ll never get enough of you.”
“Obviously, they’re great, but they’re not productive. They’re not goals.” “You know you have worth even without goals and productivity?” Do I? “Yeah, right.” I wave my hand, brushing away his sentiment. Nico frowns. “Why can’t the goal be to simply have a good time?”
Nico’s mouth slopes downward, and I’m realizing I hate it when the sunshine leaves his face.
“And do you even own a beach house? Sounds like that big ego is misleading you again.” “Not yet.” He clicks his mouth in disappointment. “Want me to buy you one?” My eyes trace the ceiling. “Yeah, Nico, I’d love an apology waterfront mansion.” “Consider it done,
