CHAPTER ONE

Elena – Five Years Ago

The late afternoon sun bathed the football field in a warm golden glow, the metal bleachers hot beneath my legs as I sat cross-legged, sketchbook balanced on my lap. Laughter and shouts echoed across the field as players ran drills, the rhythmic pounding of cleats against the grass filling the air.

And then there was him.

Damian Moretti.

I didn’t need to search for him—my eyes always found him first. He was impossible to ignore, his tall, athletic frame moving effortlessly across the field, dark hair damp with sweat, his sharp jawline tense with focus. He was all confidence, all intensity, the kind of boy who walked through life as if he knew exactly where he was going, what he wanted.

And right now, what he wanted was to score another touchdown.

I smirked as I watched him weave through the defense, his speed unmatched. The moment the ball landed in his hands, he was untouchable. The other players lunged at him, but he was too fast, too smooth, dodging with ease before sprinting into the end zone.

The crowd in the bleachers erupted into cheers, but I just rolled my eyes. Showoff.

A few girls behind me squealed his name, no doubt hoping he’d look their way. He didn’t. Instead, as soon as the play ended, Damian turned toward the stands—toward me.

His eyes met mine, and despite the distance, I could see the teasing challenge in them. A grin stretched across his face as he jogged backward, hands on his hips, looking entirely too smug.

I sighed dramatically and lifted my sketchpad, revealing the horribly exaggerated drawing I had just made of him—a stick figure with a ridiculously oversized head and tiny arms.

His grin widened. He lifted his hands to his chest and mouthed, I’m hurt.

I bit back a laugh. He was insufferable. And I loved him for it.

“Your boyfriend is such a flirt,” my best friend Riley muttered beside me, flipping through a magazine. “It’s disgusting, really.”

I snorted. “He’s only flirting with me, so I think I’ll allow it.”

“Uh-huh. And the fact that half the girls in this school would kill to be in your place?”

I shrugged. “Not my fault he only has eyes for me.”

And it was true. As much as Damian could have had any girl in school wrapped around his finger, he never cared. From the moment we got together sophomore year, he made it very clear that I was it for him.

Before Riley could say anything else, the coach blew the whistle, signaling the end of practice. The team started to disperse, but Damian? He jogged straight toward me.

“Here we go,” Riley mumbled, standing up. “I’m giving you lovebirds some privacy before I throw up.”

I laughed as she walked off, but my smile barely had time to settle before Damian reached me, sweaty and completely out of breath.

“Ew,” I said immediately, leaning back. “You’re disgusting.”

Damian smirked, shaking his damp hair at me like a dog. “You love me.”

“Not when you’re drenched in sweat and reeking of whatever testosterone-fueled nightmare happens down there.”

He hummed, leaning down until our noses almost touched. “So you do love me?”

I rolled my eyes, but my lips twitched. “Obviously.”

His grin was blinding. “Good. Because I’m taking you out tonight.”

I raised a brow. “Oh, you are?”

“Yup.” He reached down, tugging my sketchpad out of my hands. “And you don’t get a choice, because I’ve already made plans.”

I huffed, reaching for my notebook, but he held it high above my head. “Damian!”

“Let’s see what you’ve been drawing,” he teased, flipping through the pages.

My stomach dropped. “Wait, no—”

But it was too late. His laughter rang out as he landed on one of my most recent sketches—a much more realistic and detailed drawing of him, shirtless, leaning against his car, his signature smirk captured perfectly in graphite.

My entire face burned.

“Well, well, well,” he drawled, eyes gleaming with amusement. “You’ve been drawing me, huh?”

I scowled. “I draw a lot of things.”

“Oh yeah? Let’s see.” He flipped the page—only to find another drawing of him. Then another.

Dammit.

Damian looked at me, smug as ever. “I knew you were obsessed with me.”

I groaned, snatching the sketchbook from his hands. “Shut up.”

He chuckled, leaning down until his lips brushed against my ear. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m obsessed with you, too.”

My stomach did a very embarrassing flip. I tried to stay annoyed, but it was impossible when he was looking at me like that, his dark eyes filled with nothing but affection.

“Where are we going tonight?” I asked, pretending to be unaffected.

His grin widened. “It’s a surprise.”

I squinted at him. “Is it actually a surprise, or did you not plan anything yet?”

“Little bit of both.”

I laughed. God, I loved him.

LATER THAT NIGHT

The cool night air brushed against my skin as we stood outside the door of a fancy restaurant that I’m sure Damian just saw todayThe city stretched out before us, lights twinkling like a sea of stars.

“This is nice,” I admitted, leaning against him. “Always wanted to go to a fancy restaurant.”

“Told you I had a plan.”

I snorted. “You didn’t have a plan. You just drove until you found a place that looked cool.”

Damian chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “Maybe. But I’d even just sit on a rooftop with you over anything else. Maybe even N*****x and chill” he winked

My heart swelled. How did I ever get so lucky?

I turned to face him, taking in the way the city lights reflected in his dark eyes. “You ever think about the future?”

His gaze softened. “All the time.”

“What do you see?”

He hesitated, then reached for my hand, lacing our fingers together. “You. Always you.”

A lump formed in my throat.

“We’ll leave this city,” he murmured. “Go somewhere better. Start fresh.”

I smiled. “And what, live in a little house with a white picket fence?”

“If that’s what you want.”

I laughed. “You? In a house like that?”

He smirked. “If it means waking up next to you every morning, I’d live anywhere.”

My heart ached in the best way.

I leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you, Damian Moretti.”

His grip on my hand tightened. “I love you more, Elena Carter.”

I believed him.

I believed we had forever.