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My mind drifts back to after the auction…in the car.
The way I straddled him.
The way he plunged his fingers inside of me and tasted me.
I shake the thoughts away. Those are not thoughts I can be having. Especially not right now. How fucked am I?
“Seems like this is the first time you’ve agreed with me,” I say. “At least you’ve come to your senses.”
Niccolò shrugs, and I realize how tired he looks. The longer I stare, the more I realize just how deep the bags under his eyes are. I didn’t notice at first.
“We’ll know more when Doctor Robles is able to check you out.” He looks me up and down while I lie in bed. “She’s supposed to be this incredible, life-saving gynecologist.”
I hate that he’s trying to make small talk right now. When I’ve just woken up in a brand-new world. When I’ve just found out there’s a life growing inside of me.
A life I created withhim.
With Enzo.
With my husband, who was fucking other women behind my back and dealing with Gabriel Amato behind our entire family’s backs.
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
The words are out, and I can’t take them back. I feel like a naïve idiot. What does it matter though?
Niccolò sits back in the chair across from my bed. He runs his fingers through his dark locks that are a bit unruly. His hair isn’tlongby any means, but there’s a lot of it.
“I feel like we’ve had this conversation, Evelina.” He tilts his head upwards, concentrating on something on the ceiling. Maybe just imagining that he’s anywhere else and not having this conversation.
But something clicked after that accident. After Niccolò helped get me away from whoever bought me. After what we did together in the car.
“I need to know,” I say. “Iwantto know,” I correct. “This thing”—I motion between us—“is anything but ordinary. I mean, I’ve never disliked someone to the point of wanting to straddle them in a vehicle after almost getting smashed to smithereens.”
My words come out rushed, but I’m telling the truth about how I feel, kind of, and that’s something I haven’t done in a long time.
Maybe it’s the damn concussion.
Niccolò stands from his chair, comes to the side of the bed, and sinks down to his knees, looking at me in the bed. His tongue comes out to wet his bottom lip, and I freeze. The need inside of me is so frantic that I’ll do anything to not think about what’s happening right now. To not think of the fact that I’ve just been given news that I’m terrified about.
Not when I’ve been given news that makes me hate myself in an all-new way.
Because I don’t want this baby.
What kind of fucking monster of a woman does that make me?
“I feel this deep fucking pull,” he starts, shaking me from my thoughts, and then he pauses. He shakes his head, as if the words he wants to say won’t come out. “This deep fucking pull to protect you. From the fucking second I saw you, Evelina, I wanted to protect you. You were this ethereal woman amongst your books, and I was a lowly bastard who just happened to stumble into your presence.”
A low, deep chuckle rises from his chest, and it’s the most sinful sound I’ve ever heard in all my life. My chest physically aches, and I don’t know if it’s the aftermath of the crash or from what his presence does to me.
“I may have had other thoughts too,” he says, and I don’t know him well, but I know him enough to tell he’s biting back a smirk.
I look down at the bed to keep from smiling back. I want to fight these feelings. I want to run. To bury them. But I won’t. Not right now. Not after everything.
I deserve to figure this out. I deserve it.
“I pretty much forced my sister to apply for that volunteer position I saw the flyer for that day. And it was all so I could have an excuse to be in your presence.” He rubs at the back of his neck and breaks eye contact with me before looking at me once more. “I just knew I wanted to be near you.”
He runs his hand along the back of his neck as he shakes his head, and I war with myself over emotions I don’t want to be feeling.
