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“Then I don’t want anyone else to teach me to drive. I want it to be you.”
He chuckled. “Your short-term memory must be fucked if you forgot about the disaster of a teaching job I just did.”
“We’re learning everything together, remember? Driving should be no different.”
“Okay, then,” he conceded. “Let’s try one more time. First and foremost, when you come to a yellow light, slow the fuck down and stop.”
27
Haven stood in the kitchen, surveying the refrigerator as she contemplated what to cook. Dr. DeMarco’s words infiltrated her thoughts, echoing like a song on repeat. She wanted a life with Carmine, but they would need to find a way that didn’t involve running. Was that possible? She wasn’t sure. But against her better judgment, she desperately hoped so.
Haven yelped when an arm slipped around her waist, so lost in thought she hadn’t heard Carmine approach. “Let’s get drunk tonight, tesoro.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s Friday? Does one need a reason to get drunk? I promise to be a perfect gentleman.” He leaned down, nipping at the nape of her neck with his teeth. “Well, maybe not a perfect gentleman.”
She laughed but didn’t bother with a response.
“You know, we do have air-conditioning,” he said. “You’ve had that fridge door open for so long I thought maybe you were trying to cool the kitchen or something.”
“I’m thinking about dinner.”
“Awesome, because I’m starving.” He grabbed a glass from the cabinet. She took it from him, and he looked at her before just shrugging. She grabbed a jar of cherries and a bottle of Coke, making him a drink. He took a sip. “You’re entirely too good to me.”
“You can make it up to me later,” she said playfully.
“If you wanna go upstairs, I’ll make it up to you right now.”
“Dinner’s supposed to be ready at seven, which means I only have thirty minutes to throw something together,” she said, pulling some sausage out of the freezer. She stuck it into the microwave to defrost, but Carmine grabbed the sausage and tossed it back into the freezer. “What are you doing? You’re going to get me in trouble!”
He didn’t answer, instead pulling out his phone and scrolling through it to make a call. As soon as the line was picked up, he asked them to grab some pizza before coming home. He ended the call with a cocky smirk.
Haven rolled her eyes. “We’re still not going upstairs.”
“Fair enough, but I do wanna get drunk tonight.”
* * *
Haven heard a car approaching and watched the Mazda pull up outside. Dr. DeMarco stepped out with some boxes of pizza. “He’s home.”
The front door opened, and Carmine sighed exasperatedly as he let go of her. Dr. DeMarco walked into the kitchen and laid dinner on the counter before glancing at Carmine, a light groan escaping his throat. It was barely audible, and Haven looked at Carmine with uncertainty as he sipped from his cherry Coke.
The two of them exchanged keys, and Dr. DeMarco headed for the door again before any of them could react. He walked to his car, pausing at the passenger mirror. A long scratch dug into it, noticeable against the shiny black paint. He turned slowly toward the house, his eyes coming to rest on Haven at the window. She worried he would come back inside to somehow punish her, but he climbed into the car and drove away instead.
Haven turned to Carmine once he was gone. “I think I want to go upstairs now.”
“We can do that,” he said, snatching the top box of pizza. “I can still get fucked up, right?”
She smiled at his expression, his lips turned down in a childish pout. “Of course you can.”
“And you’re gonna drink with me, aren’t you?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“I wanna do everything with you,” he said. “Even shit we’d be better off not doing together.”
“Like driving?”
