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She laughed, her body shaking with amusement at his expression. She stepped away from the counter, not paying attention, and lost her footing in the suds. Carmine shot forward to catch her but skidded too, his feet coming out from under him. He knocked them both to the floor. She landed on her back with a thud, losing her breath as Carmine landed on top of her.
He pulled himself up, horrified. “Christ, I didn’t mean to knock you down! Are you hurt? Did I hurt you? Huh? Did I? Say something!”
She pushed herself up as he sat on the floor in front of her. Covered in bubbles, her back was soaked, and Carmine stared at her like she’d grown a second head. She shook again and covered her mouth to hold it in, but it was fruitless. She laughed uncontrollably, so hard her sides ached. “I think you did something wrong with the dishwasher, Carmine.”
He grabbed a handful of soap bubbles and flung them at her. She turned her head so they splattered her chest and cheek, and she didn’t hesitate before flinging some right back. They hit him directly in the face, and he closed his eyes as he wiped the bubbles away.
“I can’t believe you did that!” He lunged at her with a determined look on his face. She scampered backward, but he caught her before she could get away. He pushed her back on the floor and hovered over her, pinning her down in the hot sudsy water.
She flicked more bubbles at him, a little clump hitting his nose, but it backfired. Leaning down, he rubbed his face against hers, transferring them onto her. Haven cocked her head then, feeling brave, and kissed him. His lips were soft and wet, the flavor of him sweet but minty. There was a bitter tang there, and she wrinkled her nose. “You taste like soap.”
Chuckling, he grabbed her hand to pull her up and brushed some bubbles out of her hair. “How about we clean this mess up so we can talk.” He glanced around. “And nap. I’m definitely gonna need a nap.”
15
After the house was together, the kitchen floor so clean Carmine could see his reflection in it, the two of them headed upstairs. Haven went to her room to shower as Carmine stripped, tossing his clothes onto the massive pile of dirty laundry. He desperately needed them washed, but he felt like an asshole asking her to do it. Did girlfriends do that kind of stuff for their boyfriends? He wasn’t sure, considering he’d never had one before.
Hell, he wasn’t sure if she was his girlfriend. All he knew was she’d stolen his heart, and there was no way he could ask for it back. In such a short time she’d taken him over, as much a part of him now as the air he breathed.
Fucking thunderbolt.
He pulled on a pair of shorts and grabbed his stereo remote, scanning through stations as he plopped down on his bed. He was exhausted, his eyelids closing, and he drifted into a light sleep until the bed squeaked. Haven sat beside him, so he pulled back the comforter and motioned for her to join him.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said, lying down.
“I was resting my eyes,” he said. “You look better, by the way. Not to say you looked bad to begin with, just that you look good after your shower. Yeah, that didn’t sound right. Ignore me.”
She laughed at his tongue-tied rambling and reached out, hesitating with her hand midair. He smiled reassuringly and closed his eyes, enjoying her light touch as she explored his face. She ran her fingers down his nose and across his forehead before threading them through his hair.
When he looked at her again, her expression stunned him. She looked awestruck, her hand stilled on his cheek, her eyes glassed over with unshed tears. “Is something wrong?” he asked.
“Do you . . . ?” She stroked her thumb across his cheek, sending tingling through him. “Do you really feel that?”
“It’s like you have static under your skin.”
“What do you think it is?”
“Colpo di fulmine?” he suggested. She stared at him, and he smiled. “I guess you’re gonna want a translation.”
“Please.”
“It’s when you’re drawn to someone so forcefully that it’s like being struck by lightning.”
She stared at him. “Okay.”
“Is that an, ‘Okay, you’re an idiot, Carmine, but whatever you say,’ or is it an, ‘Okay, that shit makes sense?’”
“It makes sense,” she said. “I don’t know what to make of it. It’s all new, and I don’t know what you expect.”
“I don’t expect anything, tesoro,” he said. “I can’t lie, I’m attracted to you, but we’re only gonna do what you wanna do. We’ll be whatever you want us to be. But I just want a chance. I’m asking you for a chance.”
“A chance to what?”
A chance to what? A chance to prove himself? To be happy? To be trusted? To be loved? To love her? To finally be someone worthwhile? “Just . . . a chance. I can’t promise it’s gonna be easy, or that it’s gonna be all happiness. I’ve never done any of this before, so I don’t know what I’m doing. But I’ll try to be good to you.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing either,” she said.
“We can learn together. Just tell me what you want from me, and we’ll figure the shit out.”
