I walked into the room and Dante was sitting at the table with two plates of lasagna in front of him. There were also candles and two glasses of red wine. He stood up when I walked into the room.

Dante was wearing a black t-shirt that hugged the muscles in his chest and blue jeans. His hair was dark and curly like usual. A stray curl was on his forehead and I wanted to reach out and push it back into place. His green eyes traveled down my body. It hadn’t ...