Chapter 36 Sophia
A s I sit on my childhood home porch with my laptop in hand, the blank page stares at me mockingly.
Max asked how Lorenzo’s article was going. And to be quite honest, it’s not. I bullshit my way through excuses, reminding him all the work he’s been giving me has set me behind. He was pissed about it but didn’t pressure me into sending him a rough draft yet. So I have some time to work on this. With everything that has been going on, I’m barely above water right now. But this is important, and I have to do my job despite how our situation has… changed . Lorenzo deserves the best work. The best article yet. But I feel everything I come up with is so impersonal and tasteless.
“Blue,” Lorenzo rasps, startling me.
I look over my shoulder, finding him leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed looking too handsome for his own good. “Jesus! You scared me.”
He laughs. “It’s late, you should get some rest.”
“In a minute,” I mumble, staring at the blank document. I’m hoping for a miracle that’ll get me writing in the next few seconds.
He closes the distance between us, shutting the laptop as he shakes his head. “Now.”
I press my lips into a thin line. “You’re so bossy.”
“And you must be exhausted. Can’t Max, I don’t know, give work to other people?” he asks, frowning.
“If only,” I mumble to myself as I stroll inside the house.
He follows me into my old bedroom. I don’t keep much here anymore—never had much to start with. The room has two nightstands, a full-size bed, and a small desk in the corner where I work when I visit Mom.
“You say that a lot. Why? Does he give you a lot of work?”
“It doesn’t matter.” I wave my hand at him dismissively, placing my laptop on the desk.
He hums, unconvinced, shutting the door. “Do you want me to take the couch? The bed is kind of small. I want to make sure you’re rested.”
“You said the exact same thing yesterday, and I already told you the couch is uncomfortable. No reason for you to break your back,” I say, climbing onto the bed, and patting the space beside me.
“If you want to cuddle, all you have to do?—”
I interrupt. “All I have to do is ask. I know, I know.” I laugh, rolling my eyes. “Will you cuddle with me, Ace?” I ask, wiggling my eyebrows playfully.
He climbs on the bed and wraps his arms around me. I let myself get enveloped in his intoxicating and masculine scent I’ve grown to love so much.
“About damn time you asked, Blue.” He chuckles softly, locking his beautiful eyes on mine, allowing me to get lost in them .
Every second I keep looking at him, so many emotions wash through me at an overwhelming pace. When I met Lorenzo, this was the last place I thought we were going to end up. Over these past few weeks, he has become my sounding board. The thought is totally crazy. Who knew he was going to be the one there for me? Who knew he was going to be the only person I could feel comfortable enough to be myself?
I have my friends, yeah—who I haven’t seen in like forever. I’m sure I will get in some serious trouble when I go back to Chicago. The girls have been there for me, but… It’s not the same. Lorenzo fills a void I never knew I had.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Well, I do owe you a few questions. Go ahead,” I reply softly.
“What’s the deal with your sister?”
I sit, creating some space between us, and frown. “Where’s this coming from?”
“There’s a story there, and I want to know. I’m a good listener,” he jokes with a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips, his stupid and cute dimple making an appearance.
“That stupid dimple of yours always makes an appearance when I least want to see it,” I point out, glaring at him.
His smile grows, the dimple deepening. “Are you obsessed with my dimple, Blue?”
“Yes,” I answer honestly.
“ Wow . You must not want to talk about your sister if you just admitted something like that.”
I lay my head against the wall and groan. “Busted,” I murmur.
He bursts out laughing, and I can’t help but join in, the sound contagious.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about my family. ”
His eyes soften. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
Strangely, I want him to know the rawest, darkest parts of me. It should scare me, but somehow, I feel a strange calm.
I swallow, fighting the tightness in my throat. “My mother…she’s a survivor of domestic violence. My father was an alcoholic. He took his anger out on her, and on us.”
Lorenzo’s jaw tightens, his expression pained as he squeezes my hand, his fingers threading with mine, offering a silent anchor. “Fuck, Blue,” he whispers.
“Mom protected us as much as she could, so we didn’t get it as bad as she did,” I say softly.
He shakes his head, interrupting me. “Don’t do that.”
I blink, taken aback. “Do what?”
“Diminish your problems. You’re as much a survivor as she is,” he says, his voice so gentle it nearly undoes me. “You deserve to feel, too.”
I press my lips together. “I tried to be strong for Mom and Amelia,” I continue. “I took on a lot to protect my little sister. I was the oldest. It felt like it was my job to shield her.”
His thumb brushes over my hand in soft, steady circles, grounding me. The strength in his grip, his unwavering attention, gives me the courage to go on.
“When my father died, it was like a weight lifted, knowing he couldn’t hurt us anymore. But then came the aftermath. Mom was shattered, and I never understood why she was grieving so deeply. He was a man who’d caused us so much pain… But who was I to question her feelings? So I took over. I became Amelia’s rock while Mom coped with her own battles.”
A tear slips out, and before I can brush it away, Lorenzo does it for me—like he always does. He always knows exactly what I need and when I need it.
“Mom eventually started to get better, though the anxiety and panic attacks were still frequent. But by that point, it was too late. Amelia grew rebellious and started acting out.” I shake my head. “Most of the time, I feel like I failed her.”
“You did everything you could under impossible circumstances,” Lorenzo murmurs, his voice a mix of firmness and compassion. “You did not fail her.”
I give him a small, grateful smile. The way he cares for me, without hesitation or judgment—it’s overwhelming in the best way.
“Our relationship has always been rocky,” I admit. “And now… We’re here.” I take a shaky breath, gathering the words. “The guy she was with at the hospital…Miles. He’s my ex-boyfriend.”
His eyebrows raise in surprise. “Wait, what ?”
“We dated, always on and off, but when I graduated college, he decided to follow me. At first, I was hesitant. It was a big move, so I made him get his own place, and I was roommates with Aria even though I spent all of my time over at his place. But it still gave me some sort of security, I guess, knowing I had a place to call my own. He had odd jobs here and there that didn’t pay enough, but he was trying—or so I thought—to focus on his music. I supported him financially in any way I could.” I gulp, looking away, feeling embarrassed. The only person who knows this story is Aria, and that was so mortifying. Telling him this, I’m bearing my soul out to him right now. Something I’m not used to doing.
Now that I know better, I can see it as clear as day—I was so naive back then. Eager to please. Desperate for love. I accepted whatever crumbs Miles was willing to give me.
“Looking back, our relationship wasn’t the greatest. I was barely making any money, yet every penny I had was being spent to help him cover rent here and there, to furnish his place little by little, plus taking care of Mom. It took a toll on me. We barely had sex and just fought most of the time. I thought he was under so much pressure trying to make the music thing work.” I shake my head, laughing humorlessly. “Funny enough, Amelia had moved to Chicago not long after. Now I understand why she did, but at the time, it didn’t occur to me. The few times they saw each other, they always acted so civilized in front of me,” I say, my voice devoid of emotions.
These memories aren’t as painful as they used to. If I’m being honest with myself, ever since I started spending more time with Lorenzo, I’ve been able to heal and let go.
Never thought I’d see the day.
“Then one day, I decided to leave work early to surprise him. I had just gotten a promotion, finally becoming a junior journalist. I worked day and night for it, and I was really excited. I wanted to celebrate it with him after such a busy week.” I sigh, closing my eyes for a moment. “And there they were.” I shake my head. “It was such a slap in the face.” A sharp, bitter laugh escapes me. “So there you have it. My boyfriend of four years was sleeping with my sister the whole time, and I was too busy to notice.”
“God, Sophia. I am so fucking sorry.” He brings me in for a hug, and I let him. “You didn’t deserve that.”
“Maybe part of it was my fault, too,” I point out. “I was so focused on work, only because I needed the raise to hire a nurse for Mom, and to keep helping him, too. I was so focused on building a future. ”
“ No . Let me fix that statement for you. He was an insecure, half of a man that couldn’t handle such a strong, wonderful woman like you.” He shakes his head. “I wish I had punched him like I wanted to,” he mutters. “Figlio di puttana.”
“What does that mean?”
“Son of a bitch,” he translates.
“I love when you speak Italian,” I say with a soft chuckle.
His hand cradles my face, his eyes locking onto mine. “Sei la donna più meravigliosa che abbia mai incontrato? 1 , ” he says, placing a gentle kiss on my left cheek. “Te lo meriti tutto? 2 ,” he adds, kissing my other cheek. “Vorrei essere l’uomo che potrebbe darti tutto? 3 . Vorrei essere degno di te? 4 . Vorrei poterti amare come meriti? 5 ,” he finishes, sealing his lips on mine with a slow kiss that makes my soul roar.
“Care to translate?” I ask breathlessly. Whatever it was, the way his eyes are simmering with an unspoken emotion tells me maybe I’m not ready to find out.
Stop lying to yourself. You’re dying to know. You’re hoping to find out if he feels the same way you’ve been feeling.
His forehead meets mine, and barely above whispers, he says, “Don’t ask me to be honest right now. Because I can’t bring myself to.”
I respect his wishes, because I don’t think either one of us is ready to handle what’s happening right now between us. Without saying a word, I press my lips to his, kissing him like he’s the breath of fresh air I didn’t realize I needed so badly. My heart wants to come out of my chest with the knowledge of how different this kiss feels. There are so many words being drowned with every second we brush our lips together. His hand travels from the crook of my neck to my curves, all the way down to my legs, leaving a trace of goosebumps in their wake.
He lays me down on the bed gently as his hands roam every inch of my body with such delicacy, I can feel the adoration in every touch. There’s so much meaning behind every trace, my heart quivers.
“Lorenzo,” I whisper shakily. “I need you.”
“I’m right here,” he whispers back, huskily.
“I need you inside of me,” I correct, threading his hair with my fingers.
“I didn’t bring any condoms. I didn’t want you to think that’s why I was here,” he replies, caressing my legs, and God , his touch is so addicting. I wish he would never stop.
“I’m on the pill, and I’ve never done it without a condom,” I say, taking off my shirt.
A low growl escapes his lips, tilting his head back. “I’ve never done it without a condom either. And fuck , I would love nothing more than to feel all of you. Are you sure?”
I nod silently, tugging at the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. My hands glide over his muscular shoulders, down his chest, and along his torso, until they reach his shorts. I trace his growing erection through the fabric, feeling his body respond beneath my touch. Lifting my hips slightly, I allow him to take my shorts off, leaving me only in my underwear. He stands, grasping my legs and bringing me to the edge of the bed. As he takes off the rest of his clothes, I inch forward, unclasping my bra and throwing the lace fabric on the floor. Lorenzo gets on his knees and starts to press soft, lingering kisses along my skin. Every kiss he gives me makes me shiver, my need for him growing by the second.
His fingertips hover over the waistband of my underwear, slowly bringing them down. “There’s nothing I like more than getting on my knees for you.” His husky words, so soft but rough all at the same time, make my thighs clench. He drops a kiss on my inner thigh now, his tongue and mouth teasing everywhere except where I need him the most.
I wiggle under his teasing touch. “Lorenzo,” I pant. “Please,” I beg.
“Mmm, I love it when you beg.” His mouth latches on my sensitive clit, and his tongue moves in slow, but delicious circles. I arch my back as much as I can, trying to get more friction from him. But Lorenzo takes his time, lapping at me, savoring me as his hands continue to caress my legs. He takes his time to lick every inch of my center, slow and steady, like it’s just us and we have all the time in the world.
“I need more.” I tug his hair.
A dark chuckle comes out of his lips. “I know, baby,” he replies gravelly, two fingers entering me. “I’ll give you everything you need, and more.” He continues to flick his tongue back and forth, not stopping to even breathe. He just licks and sucks and nips as he keeps working his fingers in and out of me.
“Lorenzo.” My chest heaves. “I need you inside of me. Please. Let me feel you.”
His fingers slip out of me, and he looks at me, his face glistening with my arousal. He looks so incredibly sexy, I let out a soft moan.
His tongue darts out, licking his lips. “Whatever my girl wants, my girl gets.” He starts peppering kisses from my love handles to my stomach .
With every soft kiss he gives me, my heart clenches.
With every soft kiss he gives me, I feel seen. Adored. Worshiped .
His body hovers over me without putting any of his weight on me. Our faces are so close, I can clearly see his light stubble. My hand reaches for the tiny scar on his eyebrow, brushing it with my thumb softly as my eyes take in the beautiful man before me. His cock meets my entrance as his eyes find mine. And it feels as if, somehow, our souls are connected, with the way I can see every bit of adoration behind his intense, brown gaze. I close my eyes, not wanting to see the way he looks at me any longer. It’s too painful. I wrap my arm around his neck, bringing him closer. He slowly enters me, and… It’s like magic . I’ve never felt something like this before. The connection. All the feelings bubbling inside of me that I’m trying to make sense of are heightened as he starts to work himself in and out of me.
His lips find mine, and he kisses me with a soft, simmering passion. It’s like my body is levitating on its own, seeing the world with a whole new perspective, with bright new colors. And we don’t stop kissing. Not as he keeps sliding in and out of me slowly, taking his time. And that’s when I feel it, deep in my bones. I can feel it burning— piercing —my soul. With every slow, deliberate thrust, I can feel everything we’re not saying. With every consuming kiss, even as our lips grow numb, I can feel how this has become more. In the silence of the room, where the only sound is our slow, ragged breaths, I can see it, as clear as day, how hard I’ve fallen for this man.
His thrusts are still slow and precise as my orgasm starts slowly building up. “I’m coming,” I moan softly against his lips.
His eyes, glowing in the soft light of the room, lock onto mine as he starts to pick up the pace a little more, but his thrusts still feel different. They feel like so much more. This isn’t about sex anymore. Deep down, I knew this deal would break me. Deep down, I knew my heart was going to end up in pieces.
As my orgasm builds and then crashes through me like never before, I keep my eyes locked on his, refusing to break the connection, even when it’s killing me. Even when I know falling in love with him will haunt me for the rest of my life. As I clench around him, my moans fill the room. He thrusts once more, his glassy gaze never leaving mine as he finally lets go, spilling inside of me.
He slips out of me slowly and we both lie there, not saying anything. What is there to say? We both know everything has changed. We both know this is over. It’s just a matter of when. Because neither of us do love, and never will.
Lorenzo Mancini is the one who mended my broken heart, and he’s going to be the one to break it.
1 ? You are the most wonderful woman I have ever met.
2 ? You deserve it all.
3 ? I wish I could be the man who could give you everything.
4 ? I wish I were worthy of you.
5 ? I wish I could love you the way you deserve.