Viola woke up the next morning smiling like a fool, with the urge to scream it to the world that Sebastian had told her he loved her, that they had danced to three of her favorite songs under the stars and kissed until she could no longer feel her own lips and was completely breathless.
Butterflies stirred in her stomach as she lay there recalling everything that came after, how he had taken her back to his car, and how, true to his word, she had ended up having the most wild, unrestrained, breathless sex with him in the backseat of his Range Rover SV.
They had steamed the windows completely, and afterward had pulled the seat flat and lain there with her draped over him, her head on his chest, both of them bare and still joined in the middle, listening to each other breathe and to the soft music drifting from the car speakers, as though they were deliberately weaving the moment into memory, choosing a song to mark it by so neither of them would ever forget it.
