Page 45 of Alessio

He didn’t think it to be silly. No, he didn’t appreciate books and words and poetry like the two of them did, but he grasped what Alessio had done here.

“It means he likes you,” Corrado murmured.

She scoffed, giving him a roll of her eyes. “Lately, he barely speaks to me. He keeps a distance, not that I blame him. Oh, he watches me sure, but so do you. But likes me, Corrado, that’s a stretch.”

Oh, it was way deeper than that.

“You should have figured out by now that nothing with Alessio is simple or obvious. Think about it,” he said, leaning back in the office chair to watch her over the steepling of his fingers, “you hadn’t told Les about the book which means he sought what you read, so he would be aware, and keep up with you. It means he’s thinking of you, Ginny, in his own way.”

Corrado shrugged, adding, “So, he keeps a distance, and he’s quiet. That’s Alessio. He’s working through his own shit, and when he does that, he isolates as much as he can. It’s not about you, even if it is for you.”

He didn’t miss the way her fingers tightened on the edge of the book, or how her throat jumped at his words. She shifted from foot to foot, too, refusing to meet his gaze. All those nerves of hers, he saw it all.

And Corrado hated that.

Out of all the things happening here, he did not want her nervous about this. Not about Alessio, or him, or what might come of it. Some things should be easy and them falling into step together needed to be one of those. There would be more than enough of it that would be hard, surely.

“Come here,” he whispered, tipping his head to the side.

“What?”

Corrado pointed at his side. “Get over here.”

Still tittering in her anxious way, Ginevra closed the book, and came to stand next to Corrado’s chair behind the desk. Staring down at him, he thought she looked sweet, and a little sinful. Expectant, but hesitant.

Exactly as she should, really.

Reaching up, he caught one of her stray waves of hair between his fingertips and twisted the strands around his index finger. “I like you closer, Ginny. You understand that, don’t you?”

Her tongue peeked out to wet her lips when he tugged on the strands of hair, making her lower until she bent over at her middle, and the two of them were at eye level with each other. Here, he only had to lean forward and kiss her.

Still, he held off.

For a moment …

“Do you?”

“Hmm?”

“Like me closer.”

“More often than I get you, chérie.”

Her gaze dropped to his mouth before snapping back up to his eyes. He didn’t miss the way her lower lip trembled like she had something to say, but held it back.

“What is it?” he asked. “Say it, kitten.”

“You still call me that.”

“Because you are, soft but with sharpness. It’s perfect.”

Like her.

Ginevra let out a slow breath and glanced away. “I’m not sure what to do here, Corrado.”

“With what?”

“You, and … him. I don’t know what to do, or how to act. I didn’t ask for any of this, and it’s hard enough handling one man who has an interest in me, let alone two. It’s confusing and—”