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“When you attack people, it’s like you’re upset they’re messing with something that’s yours.”
He laced his fingers in his hair, tugging on a handful of the locks. “I have a problem with my temper. It’s just, I feel . . .” He hesitated, taking a deep breath. “Look, it’s not because I think you belong to me—it’s because I want you to be mine.”
Her brow furrowed. “Is there a difference?”
“That didn’t sound right. Christ, I care about you, okay? I overreact because I don’t want anyone to hurt you. And maybe that doesn’t make sense, considering I’m hurting you more than any of those assholes, but I don’t do it intentionally. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met. You can understand me the way no one else ever could.” He scooted closer to her. “La mia bella ragazza.”
“You know I don’t know what that means,” she said, blushing from the intensity of his stare.
He ran the back of his fingers along her flushed cheek. His touch was soft, and she leaned her head in his direction. “My beautiful girl,” he said.
She took in his expression. “You think I’m beautiful?”
“I don’t think you’re beautiful, Haven. I know you are.”
His words flustered her. “You are, too.”
He smirked. “You’re saying I’m beautiful?”
She nodded. “A beautiful person.”
“I’ve been called everything under the sun, but a beautiful person was never one of them.”
* * *
Never in Haven’s life had she encountered a disaster like the one that met them downstairs. Trash was scattered throughout the rooms, beer cans and empty bottles littering the tables and counters. Food was smashed into the floor, the house smelling wretchedly like the inside of a trash can. There was broken glass in the family room, furniture moved, and things out of place.
Haven stood at the bottom of the stairs, scanning the mess, as Carmine disappeared into the laundry room. He returned with some black trash bags. “You start in the kitchen, and I’ll go deal with whatever got broken. I know not everything survived the night intact.”
“You don’t have to do this,” she said. “I can get it.”
“I know you can, Haven,” he said. “Just let me try to help.”
She went into the kitchen and cleared off the counter, hearing noises every few minutes as Carmine tossed things around the family room. She got all the cans picked up and lugged the bag over to the side of the room. She was washing the dishes when Carmine appeared, dropping a second trash bag on the floor.
“You don’t have to do those by hand,” he said. “We have a dishwasher.”
“I don’t know how to operate it.”
Carmine opened the dishwasher and pulled out the top rack. “Get your hands out of that nasty water and fill this up.”
She looked at him cautiously. Considering he couldn’t operate a washing machine, she had a feeling he didn’t know what he was doing, but she conceded and loaded it with the dishes. When it was filled, he smiled proudly—whether proud of himself or of her, she wasn’t sure.
Carmine squeezed in some soap and latched the door, narrowing his eyes as he pressed a few buttons. It made noise right away and he snatched his hand away with surprise.
Haven laughed as soon as he walked out, knowing she’d been right—he was guessing.
She did some laundry before walking back into the kitchen. The moment she neared the sink, she hit a slippery spot, and her feet came out from under her. She grabbed the counter to stay upright and looked around, her eyes widening at the bubbles pouring out of the dishwasher.
“Carmine!” There was no way that was normal. Footsteps hastily approached as he sprinted into the kitchen. She opened her mouth to warn him, barely getting the words, “Watch out!” from her lips before he hit a patch of sudsy water and slid.
“Fuck!” he said, treading through the soapy mess to the dishwasher. Frantic, he pushed buttons and yanked on the door, trying to get it to stop. It continued to ooze bubbles, and he groaned as he slapped the front of it. Temper flaring, he kicked the door, and Haven winced as his foot left a small dent on the front.
He cursed and hobbled, smacking the buttons again until the dishwasher abruptly stopped.
“I think we have a little problem here,” Haven said, the entire thing too much for her to take. The kitchen floor was covered, and they’d managed to make a bigger mess than they’d started with. She cracked a smile, fighting to keep a straight face, and covered her mouth to quiet her impending giggles.
Carmine cocked an eyebrow at her. “Are you laughing at me?”
