EIGHTEEN ➢ WYATT

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Three nights ago, Tom and I toured the city of Athens, my arm looped through his. He blew around four hundred dollars on random things he'd noticed I'd admired for a second too long.

I never thought he'd be able to give me anything more special than that. He'd brought me to a country I'd never been to, showed me the difference in beauty in the country between the day and night.

So, when Tom said he had an eventful night for the two of us, I never imagined I'd be eating at a candle-lit dinner on a yacht.

For the last four days, Tom has continuously proved that there's so much more to him than anyone could ever know.

I'd met his grandparents, to whom he introduced me as his girlfriend. They'd shown me baby pictures of him and Mattheo, showed me their mother who was beautiful. That night, we had beers with his grandparents as they recited stories from their memories of their grandchildren.

He'd brought me to The Parthenon and explained the historical context surrounding the structure of the building. He'd talked about the beauty of the cracked stone and the fact it was made of pentelic marble.

We stayed in bed yesterday and he told me stories of his childhood, some good and some bad.

And now, we're sitting at a table on a two-tiered yacht, eating a candlelit pasta dinner.

He's drop dead beautiful, the candlelight casting a gentle golden glow over his features. His jawline is sharper, cheekbones more defined, eyes on mine and lips pulled into a soft smile.

"What do you think?" He asks, a chilled breeze sending goosebumps up my arms.

"I think that this is beautiful." I answer honestly, my eyes on his as I sip the champagne he set on the table. "I also think that all of this planning deserves a reward, no?"

His eyes ignite with need and I feel my cheeks twinge pink, but he doesn't say anything about it. Instead, he says:

"Kaeda, you're the biggest reward I'll ever receive."

And at that, my heart flutters.

"Plus, I have a surprise for you." He returns gently, patting his hand over mine.

He gets to his feet and takes my hand, pulling me with him. The wind blows out the candle and he walks backwards blindly, a nervous glint on his eyes despite the smirk pulling at his lips.

He kicks open the door and my eyes scan around the room. The bed is draped in black, candles lit all around the room. Across from the bed is a floor to ceiling mirror, and just beside that is a door that leads to what I'm assuming is the bathroom.

And then my eyes catch on a familiar face at the far side of the room, legs sprawled and shirtless as he sits on a sofa in front of one of the many floor-to-ceiling windows. Moonlight casts a soft blue glow over his shoulders, scarred skin covering his chest. A glass of whiskey is held in his hand, his fingertips barely holding the rim of the glass as he sloshes around the liquor.

My eyebrows furrow as I look back up at Tom. "What is this?"

He smiles, nudging the door shut with his foot. "You were sleeping. You kept moving around and I knew you were dreaming, I just wanted to know what you were dreaming about. I know you asked me not to dig around your mind, but I just couldn't help myself. And I'm glad I did."

My cheeks tint with the realization that he's seen the deepest desires that I kept locked away in my mind. Moments like these, that should've never seen the light of day, let alone be made a reality.

He steps around me, wrapping his arms around my waist and presses a kiss to my cheek. "I found it more enjoyable than I care to admit. Plus, I trust him not to do anything you're uncomfortable with."

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