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I had no idea if this guy had sisters, a long line of exes, or if he was just the kind of guy who figured it was better to go overboard when buying things rather than not getting enough, but his selections of makeup were perfect for just about any occasion.
Makeup done, I slid on the dress, finding it flirty, but loose enough to hide the bandages currently dulling the pain in my ribs.
I tousled my hair, then, not having any perfume, I slathered on some of the cinnamon-sugar lotion he’d brought back with him the second day I’d been staying with him.
At some point, he came back with Storm.
I waited a moment, feeling a surprising jangle of nerves, before slipping into the ballet flats—the only shoes I had—and making my way out of the bathroom.
Silvano was waiting, looking somehow even sexier than he’d been a half an hour before.
At the sound of me approaching, his gaze looked up from his phone, and I got to watch as his gaze moved over me, getting heavier lidded and more intense by the time he made it back up to my face.
“Fuck, Mills,” he said.
I had a feeling that Silvano was not a man of flowery words. So this was more than enough of a compliment.
My lips curved up as I approached.
“Not bad for someone who could barely move a few days ago, huh?” I asked, glancing around.
“What’re you looking for?”
“I… nothing, I guess,” I said, glancing back at him. “It’s weird to have nothing to grab,” I admitted.
I mean, normally, I had a triple-check system, making sure I had a purse with a phone, wallet, keys, some backup makeup, mints, maybe even a condom if I was going out on a date. Just in case.
I had nothing to bring.
“You gonna be a good boy?” I asked, moving away from Silvano to pet Storm’s head where it was hanging over the edge of the couch. “We’ll leave the TV on for you,” I added, turning up the volume.
“He’ll be fine, Mills,” Silvano said, placing a hand at the small of my back, and physically moving me away from my puppy. And the guilt I was clearly feeling at leaving him alone. “We’ll be gone two hours, tops,” he added, grabbing for his own keys, then moving out into the hallway with me.
“What?” Silvano asked when I paused outside of the door.
“It almost feels, I don’t know, wrong to be outside,” I admitted.
“That’s probably all the more reason you need to get out,” he said as we walked to the elevator.
“So, where are we eating?” I asked as we moved outside.
“Twelve Tables,” he said, his hand shooting out again to rest at my lower back, stopping the movement since I was about to walk down the street. “It’s too far to walk,” he told me, leading me toward the edge of the curb.
I was expecting him to hail a cab.
But there was a black sedan idling at the curb.
Silvano nodded at the man in the front, then reached to open the door for me.
This definitely was feeling more and more like a date.
Right?
Or was that just wishful thinking on my part?
I guessed time would tell as I slid into my seat, then heard Silvano slam the door before making his way to the other side to move in beside me.
His body brushed mine from knee to shoulder in the backseat as the driver pulled away from the curb, then wove into traffic.
