AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Didn’t stop him from staring at mine, though.
I swallowed. Hard. “You’re looking at me like that again.”
“Like what?” His gaze didn’t move from my mouth.
“Like you—I don’t know. Like you want to devour me or something.”
He licked his lips. I only just managed not to drool.
“Maybe I do,” he said, his voice so low I could hardly hear it. “I already know you taste good, contessa.”
Oh, God.
My thighs squeezed together.
“So what’s stopping you now?” I asked.
At that, his eyes closed, almost as if in pain. When he opened them, the obvious desire was laced with something closer to shame. He placed one palm above my shoulder, caging me against the brick wall.
“You still don’t get it, do you?” His breath warmed my cheek as he spoke. “I don’t want to protect you from the world. I want to protect you from me.”
I frowned, confused as much by my own reaction to him as by his words. “Oh, so we’re back to that old line? What is that supposed to mean anyway?”
As if it pained him, he shoved himself away, took a step back, and ran his hand through his thick black hair. “I’m not a nice guy. I told you that. I’m not the one who’ll take you out on dates, and hold your hand, and drive you around the neighborhood, and call to say good night. I live in the breakroom of your grandpa’s garage. I don’t have a phone or even a pager, you know that? I can’t even call to ask you out properly. Not even a car to pick you up.”
“What is this, nineteen fifty-five?” I demanded. “Who goes driving around the neighborhood? This is New York City. Lots of people don’t have cars.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t even have twenty dollars to my name. I’m living on charity right now, Lea. Not even a fucking bed to call my own!”
“And how many times do I have to say it? I don’t care.”
And I found I didn’t. It was odd. How many times had I warned friends off other men because they didn’t have jobs, or had petty records, or were going nowhere? Michael was waving every red flag that girls like me were trained to steer clear of. And yet, I found myself charging at each one like a bull.
“Yeah, well, I do.” Michael paced back and forth around the alley, rubbing his face, his hair, and his neck as if to rid himself of something hanging over him. “You deserve better than me. You deserve the guy who’ll take you to church on Sundays and act right at family dinners. You deserve all the things from whoever you give yourself to in the end, baby. But I’m not that guy, Lea. I’ll never be that guy.”
“Prove it.”
It wasn’t until later that I wondered why I cared so much. Why I was pushing him harder than I pushed anyone else. All I knew was that underneath the bickering, and the explosions, and everything else, something about this was right. Something about this was necessary.
Shrouded by a dark alley, mad as spitting cats, I still wanted him. More than anything. More than anyone.
And he wanted me too.
He just didn’t believe he deserved me.
Well, I knew he was wrong about that, too. I was a Zola. Stubborn was my middle name.
“Take me on a date,” I said. “A real date. It doesn’t have to be fancy. It doesn’t even have to cost anything. This is New York—there are plenty of things to see and do that don’t cost more than a subway ride, which is on me if you don’t have the cash. But all you have to do is spend some time with me. Some real time together where we aren’t fighting, kissing, or doing anything else but getting to know each other. And if at the end you’re miserable and convinced we’re still no good together, I’ll leave you alone. I’ll stop bringing you food. I won’t tell you what to do anymore or force you to come out. We’ll just be friends whenever I do see you, but nothing too deep. The kind that never, ever kiss.”
Michael stopped his pacing and looked at me. “You’re serious?”
I nodded. “Dead serious.”
He shook his head, then glanced back down the alley again—at what, I didn’t know. “I don’t know if I can do that, Lea. It’s not going to work out, and I don’t want to be the one to break your heart. Which I will, Lea. That’s what I do. I break stuff.”
“Let me be the judge of that,” I said, taking a step closer to him. “I know you’re not perfect. I know you have a past. But I also know that you’re thoughtful, and kind, and…and sexy as hell.”
He stiffened at the compliment. “I…you think that?”
