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"We need to get off of this road. The paparazzi are probably still around."
"Right," he said. "I shouldn't have kissed you in this car."
"I don't regret kissing you. Ever."
It was strange, but the phone call from his mother sort of unified us. I knew that he was responsible to people who cared about whom he dated. He drove us into his apartment complex and pulled me into the penthouse elevator. I had the bag with chocolate cake in it in one hand. He rested his chin on the top of my head as his giant hands went around the indent of my waist, overlapping on my back before he threaded his hands together.
"I want to be with you," he said, and I thought that he was saying it to himself as well as me. I understood that he was willing to make sacrifices to be with me. He was willing to defy his mother.
As soon as the elevator got into the penthouse, he pulled me out of it. "I need to talk to my PR team to do damage control. I planned on feeding you cake, but..."
"I'll eat it all as punishment," I teased. He smiled, but there was something tired in his eyes. "I'm kidding. I'll save some for you." I wanted to make him happier and lighten his burden, not make it heavier.
"I'll be with you as soon as I can, darling."
"Thank you." I pulled him down for the lightest of kisses before stepping back. There was a spark of flame in his eyes, which he carefully concealed as he pulled his phone out of his pocked and went into his office.
I got a fork and knife before I carefully cut the cake into two equal pieces. I ate one very slowly as I heard the explosion of Italian going on behind me. The safest place for me right now was Massimo's rented penthouse. He had a security team here. We'd be safe.
I laid out of the couch and turned on the TV. There was some kind of program about caring for dogs. I loved the way that the dogs posed and the way that they looked when they were soaking wet. My eyes drifted shut as I watched a reporter interview a dog owner about her dog's Instagram fame.
Flying to New York
When I woke up, Massimo was holding me in his lap. It wasn't sexual, really. His arms were around me. My head was resting on his firm shoulder. His body felt incredibly good, like the most expensive couch ever that somehow was warm and smelled like heaven.
"Hello," I said, my voice a little sleepy. "What time is it?"
"I don't know." Massimo shrugged a little, which made my head move. I nestled closer to him.
"What's going on?"
"My mother is insisting that we go to New York."
"Why?"
I saw his jaw clench. "She'll be there soon."
"But you have business deals in Australia."
"I can fly back. How would you feel about a flight back to the US with me?"
I didn't want to leave Australia yet. "I still haven't gone on a tour of the Paspaley pearl farms."
"I can bring you back here, I promise." He kissed my forehead. "This doesn't have to be the end."
He was holding me so tightly that I could barely breathe. I could sense just a touch of desperation in his voice.
"Is this important to you?"
"Yes," he breathed.
"Then I'll come back to New York with you. I can visit my hometown in Jersey."
He lowered his
perfect mouth to mine. Warmth melted my entire body as he pushed his tongue inside of my mouth and hit all the right spots.
"I love you," he said. For other people, that would've been affirming. It should've made me warmer.
