Island Affair (Keys to Love #1) - Priscilla Oliveras Page 0,58

also knew without a doubt that he wanted to belong in Sara’s inner circle.

“Thank you,” he told her.

“For what?” Her brow furrowed with confusion.

“For trusting me. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

Her slender shoulder hitched, an apathetic shrug from the woman he knew hurt more than she wanted to admit. Also one he believed was stronger than she recognized.

He held his hand out to her.

Sara dropped her hesitant gaze to his open palm. Her fists curled again, then slowly relaxed at her sides. An innate certainty told Luis that this was the moment. Right here. Right now. In this small upstairs bedroom with the Key West sun streaming through the skylight turning Sara’s high ponytail a burnished gold. They tiptoed on the edge of a precipice in their crazy, swift-moving, no-longer-only-made-up relationship.

The need for her to take that leap, to truly trust him, roared in his ears. It squeezed his chest like a vice, tightening with each second that ticked by without her answering. He waited, patience personified on the outside, while on the inside his gut clenched with his need for her to let him all the way in.

He didn’t stop to ask himself why this was so important. For now, he simply accepted that it was.

Her gaze slowly traveled up his arm, rising to meet his, and Luis found himself drowning in the hope he saw churning in the sea green depths of her expressive eyes.

She edged a baby step forward to place her cool hand in his. Her fingers trembled. The proof of her vulnerability humbled him, and Luis curled his fingers softly around hers. The corners of her mouth tipped up the tiniest bit, and in that instant he knew he was lost.

“Come, sit with me for a sec, will you?” he asked, relieved when she nodded and joined him.

Chapter 11

Sara plopped onto the queen-sized bed next to Luis, hyperaware of her sweaty workout clothes and ripe post-run smell. Especially when the scent of his musky aftershave drifted over her like an aphrodisiac.

She wanted nothing more than to skip the soul-baring conversation and, instead, bury her face in his neck and breathe in his deliciousness. Allow the warmth from his bronze skin to seep into her, melting the cold dread in her chest.

Thanks to her therapists, she’d come a long way from the high school girl disillusioned and hurt by her lack of parental love and support. Or the college kid desperately trying to find her place in the world, convinced she’d never be good enough to follow in her parents’ and siblings’ footsteps. Lack of self-confidence coupled with the need to feel a sense of control over something, anything, had nudged, then pushed, then fueled her down a path that quickly spiraled into an uncontrollable addiction.

“It’s not really a secret,” she started, her gaze trained on her gold sandals paired off in front of the wardrobe a couple feet away.

Beside her, Luis remained silent, their hands lightly clasped.

“I mean, I’ve talked about it in a few interviews. I just don’t, you know, advertise my struggles with OSFED.”

“That’s your official diagnosis?” he asked, his tone low. Devoid of recrimination or, worse, pity.

“Yeah. Other Specified Feeding or Eating Disorder. I’ve suffered from a mix of bulimia and binge eating, with a propensity for over-exercising. Although this morning had nothing to do with that,” she rushed on, anxious to assuage any concerns. “I stopped to talk with the owner of a small clothing boutique I came across during my cooldown walk. I didn’t even realize my phone had died.”

He rolled his lips in and slowly nodded. “Makes sense now.”

“What does?”

“Your mom’s worry when I arrived, and you were still out.”

He traced the knuckles of her hand, absently running a finger lightly up and down the back of hers. Tingles danced up her arm at his faint touch.

“I suggested that you’d probably just extended your run around the island to enjoy the early morning peace and cooler weather,” he continued, slowly shaking his head. “She was not happy. I guess she figured I knew a long run might not be the best idea for you. She seemed a little annoyed that it didn’t bother me.”

Sara winced. “Sorry. I should have been up-front with you from the beginning.”

“No, don’t apologize.”

Luis scooted around to face her. His left knee bent between them on the bed, partially covering a green and dark gray octopus floating among waving seaweed leaves on the underwater-themed bedspread. “You don’t have to do or say or be anything