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“Here we are,” I echo, feeling sick to my stomach. “With no end in sight.”
“It’ll end. War’s expensive and dangerous. Nobody wants it for long, especially not my brothers. Except for maybe Carlo, but he’s biased.”
“Because he got shot?”
“Exactly. All he wants is revenge. I don’t think he cares about anything else.”
We leave West Philly and drive over the South Street bridge. He turns right down Nineteenth and heads into Rossi territory, back into safety.
“Maybe I can do more,” I say, watching the row homes tick past. “We’ve been so secluded out in Manayunk, it’s like the war hasn’t even touched us yet. But it’s happening every day in here, isn’t it?”
“Every day,” he agrees. “But I don’t want you to worry about all that. You have better things to do.”
“Like what? Buy couches? Plant bushes?”
“No. You should go back to work.”
“You keep pushing that.”
“Because I know it’ll make you happy.”
“And what happens if you’re wrong?”
“I’m not. You know that never happens.”
I smile at him, leaning up against the window. “I’ve been thinking about it. I guess I just want to fix everything first.”
“You don’t need to take everything on yourself, baby. I can carry most of the weight. All I need is for you to be happy. That’ll be enough.”
“Enough for you, maybe.”
“That’s all I care about.” He slows the SUV and pulls it over on a quiet, shady street. Our escort is gone; they left the second we reached the safety of our home turf. It’s just the two of us and he puts a hand on my thigh, looking at me out from under those long, dark lashes of his. I shift in my seat, leaning toward him.
“And what about you? What’s going to make you happy?”
“You.”
“Come on. Don’t be so sappy.”
“I mean it.” He leans in and kisses me. It’s a gentle, probing kiss. “Why does that surprise you so much?”
“It’s just a lot to process. I don’t know how I feel being responsible for another person’s happiness.”
“You’re not. You’re only responsible for your own.”
“Doesn’t sound like it.”
“Allegra, I mean it when I say that all I want is for you to live the life you’ve always wanted. I screwed up once a long time ago, and I’m not going to make that same mistake twice. Go back to work. Be happy.”
I touch his cheek and lean in to kiss him. We stay that way, his tongue probing against mine, and my heart races as his hand brushes over my chest. My nipples are hard, pointed and stiff, and a pang of desire rushes into my core.
“Gian,” I warn as his hand goes lower.
“The windows are tinted.”
“So what? Someone could walk past.”
“They can’t see inside.”
