Page 23 of Alessio

Corrado glanced at the television.

Ginevra had done that, playing the online version which connected her to his account which he’d been working on back in Vegas.

Dammit.

He worked months for the score.

Oh, well.

He couldn’t be mad.

Right?

“Could we chat for a minute?” Corrado asked, stepping closer to the two on the couch as he nodded his head toward the back hallway leading deeper into the penthouse. “If you’re … not busy here, I mean.”

Alessio might have enjoyed the sight of seeing Corrado confused—but also amused?—but he figured, this was going to happen, too. Them talking, like it would change what needed to be said.

It wouldn’t.

Alessio wasn’t ready for that.

“Why not?” Alessio tossed the book of poems to the couch before standing. Then, to Ginevra, he said, “And it’s still talking about sunlight.”

She grinned but didn’t look away from the TV.

“Probably,” she returned, “but we don’t know for sure, do we?”

He arched a brow, considering those words. She wasn’t wrong, but he thought she also didn’t realize how her words could be applied to a lot of other things in his life currently. Like this, and Corrado. Them, and whatever the hell they were doing.

He was here because he needed to be.

A part of him searching for something.

Another part wanting to fix it.

Yet, he wasn’t sure if those things were possible. Would he find what he was looking for here, and could they fix the mess they were now in? He was going to try for both, but he didn’t know anything for sure.

“Also,” Ginevra said while Alessio rounded the couch, “if you two could just talk, and not … you know, do what you did before while I sit out here alone, that’d be great. I would appreciate it.”

Alessio passed Corrado a look, smirking a bit at the sight of his lover’s face brightening with his surprise at Ginevra’s frankness. Did he not get that from her a lot? Because Alessio found Ginevra was straightforward when she wanted to be, and he enjoyed that.

More than he should.

“Oh, she’s sassy,” Alessio said, heading for the hallway, “and you know how I like that.”

Corrado’s sigh echoed.

Alessio’s laughter chased behind it.

He took the first door in the hallway, to the master bedroom. Not five seconds later, Corrado followed behind Alessio, although he didn’t close the door. The sheets on the bed had been thrown aside. Rumpled and messy.

Two people slept here.

Fucked there.

“I thought you didn’t want to be in here because I was—”

“It’s not about the sex,” Alessio said, turning fast to face Corrado where he stood just beyond the doorway. “It was never about the fact you wanted to fuck her, Corrado.”