He lifts my chin with his fingers. "I never lied to you, Serena."
"I know," I say in a small voice.
"I hurt you and I despise myself for that, but I never lied to you."
His eyes bore deep into mine when he says, "I will never hurt you again."
"You just stood there, saying nothing," I whisper.
"I'm slow, okay?" he raises his hands in desperation. "I… you just… everything was happening so fast, I didn't have time to think or react."
He pulls me in a tight embrace. "I knew it was a mistake to let you go the minute you left. I will not let you go a second time," he whispers and kisses me on the forehead. "Do you believe me?"
I nod, afraid my voice will betray just how doubtful I am.
"Good. Let's go."
"I actually promised Jess I would celebrate with her something," I say in a surprisingly even tone.
"I know," he says with a smirk. "She said she'd be happy to celebrate another time when I told her about the surprise I prepared for you."
"You prepared a… surprise?" I ask blankly.
"I thought our reunion night should be memorable. Seeing that the actual reunion was among the dumpsters of a second rate club, I think that was a wise decision."
I chuckled. He's too polite. I believe I used the word decrepit when Jess informed me where we were going.
"Let's go," I say.
The Porsche is parked opposite the club and when I slip inside, the butterflies, dormant for so many days, start to lazily flutter their wings. James slips inside and starts the engine, then starts rummaging in the pocket of the door. Just when I'm about to ask him what he's looking for, he pulls out a thin strip of black silk.
"You have to put this on."
"A blindfold? Are you serious?"
"Very."
"James, I'm not putting this on."
"Then we are not going anywhere," he says and actually turns off the engine.
"I don't know where we're going anyway."
"Why do you protest so much, then?" he asks, his lip curling into a smile. He forms a semicircle in the air with his forefinger and I turn around, sighing.
The flutter of butterflies isn't lazy anymore when the fine silk touches my skin and his fingers become entangled in my hair as he ties the piece of fabric.
"This is ridiculous," I say.
"The blindfold matches your dress," he says amused. "By the way, what were you thinking wearing something this provocative?"
"You don't like it?" I tease.
"You look great in it. A little too great." He glides one finger playfully up my thigh, sending delicious little tingles in my entire body. "You're tan."
"I played volleyball in the sun almost the entire day."
"I'd l