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The idea of that is hard to put together. It’s like solving a puzzle with missing pieces. I used to hate when he was around me. Then it led to me not being able to control how my body felt around him.
I sit up, looking at the bathroom, trying to wake myself up so I don’t look a mess in front of him.
I push myself off the bed, but my arm gets tugged back, my body falling on top of his.
“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice sounds deep and raspy.
“I was—”
“Yeah? You werewhat?” His arms wrap around me. I feel so small in his arms, but so large. “You were going to stay here with me.” He buries his face in my hair as I lay my head on his chest.
I let out a laugh.
I don’t crave the attention from him anymore; I crave everything that is him. I feel complete with him, even though he made my life hell for a while.
The sound of his heart racing floods my ears. His heart is beating this fast in my presence.
He lifts me up, pulling me closer to his lips. His hand ventures to the back of my head, and my lips press hard against his. He kisses me slowly, with passion. A shudder waves over me as he groans. His tongue finds mine, fighting for dominance.
Just as I’m falling into his hold even more, accepting that Gio is a drug I can’t help my addiction to, his phone goes off.
“Aspetta, amore mia.”He gently lays me back down on the bed as he grabs his phone off the nightstand, walking out of the room.
His voice trails through the hall. “Genovese.”
I shake my head, the palms of my hands finding my eyes. I get out of the bed and walk over to the bathroom.
The cold water splashes my face, waking me up entirely. I need to go back to my house to grab my things. When Enzo took me shopping, I didn’t buy the things I normally would. I got so caught up in shopping without my mama telling me what I needed to get. She always wants me to wear specific things, and while they all look nice, I’ve never been able to get the things I want.
I hear a loud crash from the main room as I rush out.
Gio stands in the kitchen, the morning light caressing the structure of his face.
He swears into the phone with a tone of anger, sending goose bumps down my arms. His voice scares me, especially since I have no idea what he is saying right now.
He hangs up the phone, his elbows resting on the white countertop, hands scrubbing through his hair.
“What’s going on?” I ask hesitantly, resting my weight on the wall.
He looks up at me, almost as if he’s shocked to see me here. He turns around and tugs open a drawer. From what I can see, it looks like it’s filled with paperwork.
Mama calls this the “junk drawer.” But his looks neat and organized. He pulls out a box.
“This is for you. You will only use this one from now on, so I know where you are at all times.” He pushes a phone across the counter.
I walk toward him, opening the box. It’s a much nicer phone than I have right now. “What, are you trying to track me?” I laugh even though I shouldn’t.
“Give me your old one.”
“What?”
“Your old phone—give it.”
I look down at my phone, wondering what he wants with it. I don’t have anything to hide, which only makes me even more confused. “Okay.” I hand him the phone, and he snatches it from my hands.
He nods as he walks toward the bedroom, and I follow. His back is stiffened as he puts on his suit.
“Where are you going?” My heartbeat picks up rapidly.
