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“You haven’t had a show in years and then you do this? Your friends could have come any other night.” Sydney rubs her hand down Andrea’s arm in a motherly gesture.
“I wanted to have my friends here. I don’t give a shit about the so-called connoisseurs. Fuck them all.”
His words carry to the couple, and they shake their heads and leave, despite Violet’s obvious efforts to placate them.
Andrea sways a little and turns to kiss the cheek of a young woman who passes by.
Violet storms back to us. Poking her finger into Andrea’s chest, she speaks quietly enough not to cause a scene, but with an authoritative tone that makes us all straighten up.
“You’re a narcissistic egomaniac little boy hiding in a man’s body. I gave you an amazing opportunity, and you fucked it up. All the possible buyers ran away because you filled the place with desperate people who want to be you, or who admire you because they clearly don’t know you well enough. Next time you want a fan club, don’t fuck with my gallery business.”
She turns and leaves, her heels somehow echoing above the raucous crowd around us.
“I’m glad someone explained this to you.” Gio shakes his head.
Andrea chuckles and cups my face. It’s so unexpected, my arms flail up. Before I process what is happening or anybody can react, Andrea lowers his face to mine. “You chose the wrong brother, beautiful.” He crashes his lips to mine.
His tongue slides in, but he’s yanked off me immediately. Gio punches him in the face and Andrea stumbles backward, loses his balance and collapses into a tall woman, taking her down with him.
A group gasp is followed by silence. Gio grabs my hand and drags me across the packed room until we get outside.
“Are you okay?” He scans me for injuries, as if Andrea’s lips could have cut or hurt me. His concerned gaze fills me with a fleeting hope.
“Yes,” I rasp. He stares at me, bewildered. Like the whole situation made little sense to him. “Are you?”
Instead of answering, he seizes my lips. I’m assaulted for the second time within minutes, but this time I welcome the invasion. Gio kisses me like a man possessed.
I don’t know if he needs to erase Andrea’s lips from mine. Or if he wants to re-brand me so I don’t forget who I belong to.
Because he may keep pushing me away, but there is no doubt in my mind, I belong to him, whether he wants me or not.
Startled—that was the only emotion cruising through me during that millisecond of Andrea’s kiss. His kiss had only one goal—to rile Gio. Well, mission accomplished. Had I known, I’d have kissed someone a long time ago.
I almost smile at the thought, but the cocktail of emotions coursing through my body right now is too powerful to let anything else seep through. I grab Gio’s lapels and pull him closer, unwilling to break the connection.
He anchors me with his hands in my hair. Our tongues dance together. My heart dances too. And I hope it’s pairs choreography because whatever happens after this kiss, I know I can’t continue like we’ve been since the engagement.
“Let’s go home.” He steps away and turns, pulling out his phone. I watch his back, my hope disintegrating into a puddle at my feet.
Gio calls his driver. “He should be here in five.” He doesn’t look at me, but he weaves his fingers through mine.
I want to ask what’s next, but our issues, the lack of trust and major miscommunication are too deep to just attack here on the street.
We get into the car.
Gio holds my hand the entire ride.
We’re silent.
We don’t look at each other.
The air between us crackles with energy that is sexual, but also full of anxiety.
The silence is weighted with unsaid words and unanswered questions.
When we enter the house, neither of us is talking. Gio walks to the bedroom and I follow, preparing my speech, but suddenly feeling completely unequipped to fight against his misconceptions.
I want to tell him I love him, but do I? After three months of adjusting to his demands and absence, I’m not sure anymore. Maybe I’m just jaded, rejected, and holding on to something that is only a part of my fantasy.
