As I took the bag, a delicious aroma filled the air, and closing my eyes, I gave an involuntary moan.
“Uh, cookie, do you need a moment alone with your pastries?” Giff smirked. “I can step outside, if you’d like.”
I stuck out my tongue at him. “No. But I’m trying to decide if I like you enough to share whatever might be in this box.” I slid the small package onto my lap and opened the lid to take a peek. “Oh, okay. The answer to that question is no. I’m not sharing.”
Giff rolled his eyes. “Don’t bother, toots. I already sampled the wares of your squeeze earlier today.”
“Please don’t call him that, and ewww. You make it sound dirty, whatever it was you did.”
“Ha!” My friend laughed. “No worries, sweetheart. Vincent isn’t interested in anything I have, but he sure does have the soft puppy dog eyes when it comes to you.”
“Hmmm.” I fiddled with the handles on the bag, tying them together. “Maybe you just see what you want to see, Giff.”
“I don’t think so. But I’m more worried about what I see in your face, cookie. What’s going on? Tell me everything.”
I sighed. “Right before you knocked, I was about to call Vincent and tell him we needed to cool things down. To take a break for a while.”
One of Giff’s eyebrows ticked upward. “I see. And why, exactly, would you do that?”
“Because he’s a huge distraction!” I burst out. “I found out today that I’d messed up something at work, probably because I was too busy—well, getting busy with Vincent. He makes me want to think about stuff that isn’t work or school. I just want to sit around and daydream. I want to blow off classes and drive down to see him. I’m a mess, Giff.”
“Oh, sweetie.” Giff shook his head. “You’re not a mess. This is just the first time you’ve gotten involved with someone who means something to you. It’s okay that you’re a little preoccupied. That’s part of the deal with being in love.”
“I’m not in love with Vincent DiMartino.” My automatic reaction was swift and sure. “We’re not—he’s not—just no. It’s not like that.”
“Beg to differ, darlin’. I saw his eyes when he talked about you today, and I see yours when I mention his name. He’s gone over you, and you’re gaga, too. It’s a beautiful thing to see.”
I flipped Giff the finger. “Thanks. Here I am, consumed with misery—”
“The word you’re looking for is ridiculous, honey. As in, you’re being ridiculous. You’re adjusting. There are bound to be some growing pains as you do. Yes, you might lose a little focus with other things, but you’ll come around and figure out how to make it all work. You’re a smart girl. I have faith in you.”
“I’m glad you do. I feel like I’m drowning and dropping all the balls I have in the air.” I flopped back against the sofa cushions.
“Oh, sweetie.” Giff swooped me into a hug. “You’re not dropping anything. Like I said, it’s a matter of finding your balance. You’ll figure it out. Don’t make any rush decisions, okay? Promise me that.”
I groaned. “Giff. What if I ruin everything I’ve worked so hard for, just for good sex?”
His eyes went wide. “Is the sex only good? Seriously? With Vincent?”
“No!” I wailed. “It’s incredible. It’s mind-blowing. It’s the best I’ve ever had in my entire life, and I think he’s spoiled me for anyone else ever again. Just the thought of giving it up makes me want to cry.”
“Oh, baby girl. You don’t have to give up Vincent. Just tell him how you’re feeling and that you don’t want to change anything, but that you need to stay focused. Don’t run away, and don’t try to handle it on your own. Pull up your big girl pants and talk to that man. If the sex is as fantastic as you claim—”
“It is.”
“—and his cannoli is fan-fucking-tabulous, as I know, don’t you dare let him get away.”
I frowned. “How did you know it was a cannoli in the box?”
“I opened it and looked, of course.” He shrugged. “I happen to know the man makes amazing pastry. So do you pinkie swear you’ll do your best to make this thing between you work?”
A tiny smile curled up one side of my lips. “I do. I pinkie swear. And thank you, Giff. If you hadn’t stopped by when you did, I might’ve made a huge mistake.”
“Honey, I live to bring happiness and tranquility—and cannoli—to my friends in their hours of need.” Giff stood up and blew me a kiss. “Now, my own love machine is waiting at home, so I’m going to scram. I recommend that you scarf up this pastry and then call up a certain Italian honey and make him happy. Maybe make yourself happy while you’re at it.”
And once Giff was gone, that was exactly what I did.
Twice.
