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He makes me feel good. Damn him, but he does.
“If you really want to atone for your sins, how about you keep me company while I cook dinner?”
“I can definitely do that.”
“But you need to go out and get some wine first. Something very red.”
“I can also handle the wine.”
“Perfect. You get going while I set myself up.”
“What are we having?”
“I’m thinking something simple to start. I’ll make a quick little pasta sauce from red peppers. Trust me, sounds weird, but it’s really good.”
“I trust you.” He says it without a hint of a smile. “I’ll be back with the wine.”
“Great. It’s a date.”
He pauses as he stands, eyebrows raised. I feel self-conscious—I didn’t really mean that it’s adatedate, just like, we’re doing something together and will reconvene in a second—but he gives me another one of those smiles again. It makes him look so might lighter, and I like that. I like that I can make him brighten, even a little bit, so I decide not to correct myself.
Before he walks past, he stops and stoops down and kisses my cheek. It’s a small gesture, almost chaste, or at least it should be. Instead, he lingers for a moment, and I feel his breath on my neck.
“You’re a good person and a good friend. She doesn’t deserve you.”
“I don’t know about that. I did ditch both of my arranged husbands.”
“Maybe, but you love your family. That matters more than anything else.” His knuckles brush my cheek. “Be back soon.”
Then he’s gone, leaving me alone with my cheese plate and the garden. I sit in silence for a minute before I realize that I’m smiling, and I quickly rub my face to get it back into its customary scowl.
What the hell am I doing? Enjoying myself with Gian freaking Rossi? The guy who broke my heart ten years ago? I’ve never gotten over what happened, but now here he is, somehow managing to ingratiate himself with me.
It’s too easy. The way we talk and laugh with each other. It’s just… comfortable in a way I really crave.
I wasn’t kidding when I told him that I haven’t gotten over what happened and I haven’t forgiven him. But that was a decade ago. People change. I’ve sure as hell changed. Maybe I can drop my guard, just a little bit, if it means regaining some of my sanity.
If it means having just one tiny good thing in my life.
Chapter 26
Allegra
I’m feeling good when bedtime rolls around. For the last few hours, I spent actual time with Gian. He seemed to really appreciate my cooking—at least he ate it all and asked for seconds, which is basically the only compliment that really matters—and we enjoyed each other’s company. It was easy to fall into the old rhythms, even a decade later. Lots of laughter, lots of flirting, lots of smiles. We ended up watching a movie while I asked his opinion of, like, thirty different pillows, all of which he said were “totally fine, just buy something.”
I use the hall bathroom to get ready. I’m not comfortable enough to go through my whole nightly routine with him in the master yet and he doesn’t seem to mind. Once I’m finished, I slide under the covers, and he snaps off the light. But I can still hear him breathing.
“You said something earlier that’s been bothering me.”
I glance over. “And you’re bringing it up right now? When we’re in bed together? How convenient.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything, but I ran out of willpower. You do that to me.”
“Ah, is it my old ratty gym shorts? Do they do it for you?”
“It’s the t-shirt. I can see your nipples through it and that drives me fucking crazy.”
I shiver a little and check—yep, he’s right, they’re pointy. “I’ll stick to sweaters then.”
