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I’m in Italy with family and Devin.
I hoped that would get him to stop texting, even though the fact he’d texted had made my heart warm. But I had to get him to stop. We weren’t going to hook up. Ever.
“Be careful with that,” he warned as we drove away.
My heart stopped. Did he mean my phone? Then I realized it was the slush. “Yes, yes,” I said.
Not two minutes later, I spilled some of the slush on the leather seat. I hoped he hadn’t noticed the subtle way I took the napkin and cleaned it up, but when I glanced his way, he was shaking his head in disgust. I wanted to laugh but held it back. He was already pissed off. I didn’t need to inflame the situation any further.
We got to Cortese three hours later than what I’d told my mother, mostly because of Devin’s wildly inaccurate prediction of how fast he could get there. Mom had worried that something had happened but was relieved when we walked through the door. We were the last to arrive.
I wasn’t surprised that Mom wasn’t going to allow me to sleep in the same room with Devin. She was a prude that way. Instead, I was spending the two nights bunking with my little sister. Not ideal, but I wasn’t going to argue with her. Plus, Catia was stoked for the sleepover.
After a huge dinner prepared by Rosa and some additional staff that had been hired for the event, Devin and I went for a walk into Cortese. By the time we got home, Catia was in bed. I was quiet as I entered the bedroom, carefully shutting the door behind me. I changed into pajamas and got into the bed I was sharing with my little sister. The moment I was settled in, Catia turned over. She was wide-awake and had been waiting for me to get home.
“Luna, are you going to marry Devin?”
“I don’t know. Why do you ask?”
“I like him, and I want him to be my brother.”
“You have a brother. Isn’t Rafe good enough?”
She huffed. “He’s never around. And he’s not fun. Devin makes me laugh.”
“He makes me laugh too.”
“You should marry him,” she said, sleep edging into her voice.
“Maybe one day, Cat.”
“I love you, Luna,” she said, hugging me.
Something about the hug made me want to cry. I didn’t spend enough time with my little sister, and I needed to change that.
* * *
“Luna, what is that on your ankle?” Mom asked the next morning.
I was dipping a cookie into my coffee and milk. I glanced at Mom, who was busy looking at my ankle. Tony and Catia were the only other people awake, and both were interested in what was going on. Tony put down the newspaper while Catia stared intently. I was now going to have to explain it, and Mom wasn’t going to like it.
“It’s a tattoo, Mom,” I said casually.
Mom’s dark eyes bore into me. “A tattoo? Let me guess whose brilliant idea that was.”
“Devin’s?” Catia piped in.
The kid was not being helpful.
“I don’t see what the big deal is,” I said.
Mom pursed her lips together, and I knew she was pissed. “That thing is going to be on your ankle forever.”
“I know.”
She turned to my stepfather. “What is this world coming to, Tony? Tattoos! Next thing you know, people will be piercing all parts of their bodies and painting their hair funny colors.”
“They already have, dear,” Tony said, kissing Mom’s forehead as he left the table.
