“I think I should go back to my room before people begin to question where I am,” I told Dante, yawning and taking my head off his shoulder.

“I’ll walk you back,” he noted, sliding his arm through mine.

We walked to the mansion and I tried not to think about how good it felt to touch him, even though the touch was so innocent.

I found myself wishing that I had met Dante under different circumstances. Maybe in a ...