My name is Bella, and I was twenty-one the summer everything changed. My parents dragged me to their favorite lakeside resort for the whole two months, like I was still a kid. While they played golf and drank wine with their friends, I wandered around feeling bored and out of place. I wasn’t the partying type. I was the quiet girl who stayed in her room reading or watching the lake from the balcony. Shy. Clumsy. Always the good girl.
But then I saw Damien.
He was the resort’s main dance instructor. Twenty-eight, tall with broad shoulders, dark messy hair, and tattoos covering both arms and part of his chest. His eyes were dangerous—sharp and dark, like he could see right through you. Every night the resort guests took his salsa and bachata classes near the main pavilion. I never joined.
