3. Christine
“You’re a dick.”
Niccolocrosses his arms over his chest and tilts his head to the side. Caution blazes in his eyes, resignation stalking every line of his posture. “BecauseI don’t want you to risk your life to go to your little friend’s house?”
“No,” I respond with a petulant tone. “Because you think you can control me even though I’m eighteen.”
Hisupper lip curls into a smirk as he shifts his weight from the balls of his feet to his heels. “You live in my home, dolcezza.”
“The home that you inherited from my mother.” I match his body language movement for movement. “Because your poor famiglia was so disappointed that their son wanted to become a professor, they had to marry him off to the first woman that would take him.” A roar of thunder booms outside, the rumble punctuated by the crack of lightning.
Niccolo’sarms slacken to his sides. His voice rings out with ferocious intensity as a stream of curses and insults pour from his mouth in a torrent of Italian.
It’sbeen a few years since I actively studied the language, but I make out phrases like ‘little brat’ and ‘you’ll learn to respect me’. I bide my time in silence until he stops to breathe, his face red hot with anger. “Are you done?”
Hiseyes narrow, the pupils expanding like pools of blackness until they consume his gaze in a feral glint. His steps echo menacingly as he moves closer, the air thickening with an ominous energy.
Mythroat tightens as if a clawed hand grips it from the inside, and I step backward from him. The back of my knees collide with the edge of the couch, making me lose balance. I tumble, arms flailing in all directions. My elbow catches on the forgotten bowl of popcorn, upending it dramatically. AsI fall onto the sofa, kernels fly everywhere, coating the floor and furniture in butter and salt.
“You are not going to Kaye’s house. I don’t care if it’s on fire and you”re the only one that can put it out,” he deadpans. ”The streets are flooding, and the storm is getting worse. You’ll stay where you are, and you’ll like it.”
Icrush popcorn into the couch cushions as I scramble to my feet. Niccolo turns his back on me, but I follow him. He strides down the hallway toward the kitchen with his shoulders straight and head held high. “She’s my best friend, Nic. She said Xavier was outside her house, and then her phone died. What if—”
Niccoloturns around so quickly that I slam right into him. The impact knocks the breath out of my lungs and nearly topples me. If it weren”t for his strong arms reaching out to grab me, I”d crash to the floor. “What if you call an Uber and get into a wreck on the way there?” He roars over my arguments. “What if you take my car and wrap it around a tree?” The emotion in his voice is palpable, reflecting his passion as he speaks. “You aren’t leaving, Christine. Go to bed.”
Iam suddenly aware of the thin cotton shirt stretching across my breasts. I’m not wearing a bra, and my nipples peak through the fabric. Goosebumps swell on my forearms from cold and nerves, but mainly desire. “It’s not even 10:00 p.m.,” I challenge.
Hereleases me, and his breath comes in deep, even pulls. He closes his eyes as if to pause time while he regains his calm. “Don’t whine, Christine. It’s childish behavior for a young woman. And you know how I get when you act childish.”
Mybreath catches in my throat as I remember the last time we were in a position like this. The smell of his warm skin and the sound of his breathing force the memory to play out again right before my eyes.