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His smile broadens. It’s like his face was pack ice and now it’s melting. It lights up his eyes when he smiles. I get the feeling he doesn’t do it very often. Even when we were making love, he had this intense look on his face, far from this warm smile.
“No one ever talks to me like this,” he says, taking a step toward me. “You really are unique.”
“You got that right.”
“You’re concentrating. What are you thinking?”
“How the hell I got myself into this insane situation.”
He takes a step toward me, slipping his hands over mine, squeezing them lightly. “That first night we had together,” he says softly. “I was your first, right?”
I almost bark in indignation at the question. “Erm, does that matter?”
“It matters to me. You ever been fucked before?”
“Do you have to call it that?”
“Okay. You ever made love with anyone before me?”
“No, all right. You happy?”
His smile turns into a grin. “Very.”
“Why? Why does that even matter?”
He looks at me closely, as if he’s a poker player trying to decide whether to fold or go all in. He looks at me like I’m the chips on the table and he’s trying to decide if I’m worth fighting for.
He nods almost imperceptibly and then says something I never expected to hear. “I’m falling for you,” he says, kissing my forehead. “Knowing I’m your first clinches it. Remember what I said just before I entered you?”
I don’t want to admit it but he can tell. “You’re mine,” he says. “And I know you’re feeling the same things as me right now.”
“You don’t know that.”
He nods. “Since that first night, I’ve known it and you have too. It can’t work though. Realistically, I’m not good marriage material.”
“Your father must have thought so to come up with a will like that.”
“I’m not the man my father thought I was.”
“You sure about that?”
“Do I look like a good catch to you? I’m impulsive. I sleep around. I’m a violent criminal and sooner or later I’ll get whacked by someone and that’ll be the end of me. You want to be around when that happens? Want your kid to see it?”
“I could get hit by a bus next time I cross the street. When your time’s up, it’s up.”
“You trying to say you want to stay married?”
“I’m not sure what I’m saying.”
“I know what you’re thinking. Your family hates the Casellas and you think you should too but you don’t hate me. Not anymore, at least. I can tell.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I know a lot about you.”
“What’s my favorite TV show?”
“Red Dwarf. British comedy set in space.”
