Chapter 1 #8
"Consistency... or routine?" I ask. "Because those aren't the same thing, Rava."
"We're talking about hotels, Gio," he snaps. "Not whatever you think this is."
"Sure, Rava," I say.
He gets it. He inhales, trying to hold himself together. "Some things need to stay stable to work," he says. "If you shake them too much, they fall apart."
I lean in. "Or maybe they fall apart because they're already weak," I answer. "And you're just scared to admit it."
Rava looks at me with a straight face. "We're doing business here," he says.
I smile. "This is business, Rava," I tell him. "You just hate when someone pushes you."
"I don't hate it."
Good to know. Very good to know.
…
When it finally ends, a few people drift over. Polite smiles, neutral voices, the usual nonsense. Then one of the older women, a board member, looks between us with a smirk.
"There's something between you two," she says lightly. "Opposites with teeth," she adds, clearly enjoying herself. "Keep that going. It'll play well at the next summit." She walks away before either of us can answer.
So I raise my glass of water in his direction, subtle, almost lazy. "To the golden boy and the disappointment," I murmur. "Perfect little partnership, isn't it?"
"You're not a disappointment, Gio. You just love acting like one."
I smile. Wide. Because that? That almost sounded personal. And we're just getting started.
8) You Dating Someone?
Rava
I'm gathering my things, making sure my notes are neat, my pen capped, my phone silent.
The elevator doors close and suddenly it's just me and him.
A nightmare in metal box form. Please, God, any god, all gods, keep Gio's mouth shut for the entire ride.
I stare at the floor, the ceiling, the corner, anywhere but his face. Then I make the mistake of glancing up. He's right across from me, staring straight at me.
Stop looking into my soul, you freak.
And of course, he opens his mouth. "Remember when you were little and too shy to disagree with me?" he says. "I'm almost proud of what you pulled today."
I let out the most dramatic sigh of my life.
"I'm not ten anymore," I mutter. "And I'm not scared of you, Gio."
"Good for you," he says, all casual. "I just wanted to tell you you've still got the same expression. You're kinda cute."
"Stop. Nothing about me is cute."
He smirks. "Rava... you dating someone?"
Oh my God. This elevator is too slow. I'm going to sue the entire building. "That's none of your business," I say.
He grins wider. "Is it a girl or a guy?"
"I'm straight. Leave me alone."
He raises both hands like he's surrendering. "Hey, I didn't say anything. Not my fault where your mind goes. But damn, noted." I stare at the floor again.
If hell has an elevator, this is it. I roll my eyes.
He takes a step closer. "You know, Rav... I think I might have missed you."
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't call me that."
"Fine. Ravioli." The elevator dings.
Thank God. We step out.
And then I see... Sophia. My heart drops. She's standing in the lobby, smiling the second she sees me.
Great timing. I feel Gio watching us.
"Sophia?"
"Surprise," she says, already walking toward me.
I move without thinking, trying to ignore the fact that she didn't tell me anything. We hug. I press a kiss to her cheek. Over her shoulder, I see Gio putting on his helmet, smirking.
"So it’s a girl. Well, this is adorable," he calls out. "You two still doing the whole heteronormative nostalgia thing? Vintage."
I flinch. Sophia turns, confused. "Who's that?"
"No one," I say too fast, because I know he can hear me.
Gio swings a leg over his bike, tightens the strap under his chin. "Nice to meet you, Sophia," he says. "You've got yourself a real romantic. Just don't leave him alone in elevators."
He starts the bike and then he's gone.
I can't stop smiling. "Why the hell didn't you tell me you were coming to Italy?" I say, wrapping my arms around her before she can even finish looking up.
She hugs me back, warm but... off somehow.
Not as tight. Not as long.
"We would've paid for everything," I add. "You could've stayed with us. We've got the space."
She steps back a little, brushing hair behind her ear. "I don't know... I just... I don't think we're there yet. You know? As a relationship."
That hits me weird. Not hard exactly, just unexpected. We've been together ten months.
I thought... I don't know what I thought.
I nod slowly, forcing a fake smile. "Okay. Fair."
"So... how long are you staying? And where?"
"Half a month, probably." She glances at her phone. "I'm staying at a friend's summer house."
My eyebrows lift. "Wait, you have friends here??"
She laughs. "Just one. Maria. She's Greek, actually. Her family's got this place out by the coast."
Maria. Nice. First time I hear that name.
I try not to sound weird about it. It's not like she has to report all her friendships to me, right?
Still, it's strange.
Me being Italian, and her never once mentioning anyone she knows around here.
I clear my throat.
"Well, if you're free now, you could come by the house! We're having lunch. You can finally meet my siblings."
She wrinkles her nose. "You know I don't really do well with kids..."
Kids.
Did I… mess up? Did I accidentally tell her Daisy is six instead of twenty-six?
Am I actually stupid?
I give her a look. "Soph. One is twenty-six and the other is sixteen. They're not exactly kids."
She chuckles softly. "Still. Another day, maybe."
I nod again, but the pit in my stomach gets heavier.
Yeah, it makes me sad that she doesn't even remember the age of my siblings. I try not to show it. I don't want to come off as needy. Or clingy.
But it's hard not to feel like she's actively avoiding the whole part of my life that is... well, my life.
Ten months is both a long time and not long enough to sit her at a family table without risking emotional death.
I scratch my eyebrow, trying to act normal. Maybe she's just not a family person. That's okay. Some people aren't.
But also... she's never taken me to meet her parents. Not once. Not even a ‘drive by the house so you can wave from the car’ situation.
Do they even know I exist? God, ten months and we're still strangers in some ways.
I change the subject, or try to, but then she asks about Gio. Again.
And again.
And again.
Everything.
His job, his friend group, his location.
"Why are you asking about him?"
She just shrugs casually. I don't push. But it sticks to the back of my mind.
5 hours later
I check the time. Damn, I overslept. Sophia is going to kill me. And honestly? This time she'd be right.
Okay. Okay. Focus. I get dressed. Fast.
Shirt: acceptable. Jeans: eh, passable.
My shoes. Where the fuck are my shoes. My hair looks like I got attacked by an angry squirrel. I grab a comb, do two swipes, then give up.
I can fix it in the bathroom while brushing my teeth. As I pass the hallway mirror, I try to flatten my shirt with one hand and loop my belt with the other. I reach the bathroom and twist the handle. I open it.
"Jesus—Gio?!?!"
I slam the door back shut with a loud bang. I take two full steps backward, practically reeling.
"What the hell are you doing here?!"
From behind the door, his voice comes calm, completely unbothered.
"Um, peeing?"
I shut my eyes, dragging my hands down my face.
"In my bathroom?!"
"You weren't in it."
"You don't live here!"
He doesn't even pause.
"I knocked. No answer. Nature doesn't wait, princess."
I exhale sharply.
I just opened a door on Gio freaking Fontana.
"Why are you even here?" I snap.
"Jin invited me," he says. "Apparently, I'm very cool for an old guy."
"You're twenty-three."
"And yet, still cooler than you."
I groan, massaging my temples. Then the door creaks open. Gio again. Fully dressed, thank God, but still drying his hands with a towel. Like nothing happened.
He gives me a once-over, his eyes moving shamelessly, from my tousled hair down to the untied laces on my shoes. And then he smiles.
"Well, well," he says. "Getting all fancy for someone?"
I narrow my eyes. "Don't."
He steps closer, cocking his head. "Wait... is it her?"
I stiffen. Too late.
"Oh my God," he grins. "It is her. The mystery girlfriend. You're actually dressing up for the girl. I didn't think you had it in you."
"Shut up."
He pretends to think. "You two look more like siblings than a couple, though. Honestly."
I turn away, heading back toward the bathroom. Before I can stop him, both his hands are on my hair, brushing it down. I freeze just for a second. Then I swat them down, hard.
"Don't touch me," I say sharply. Too sharply.
He lifts both hands in mock surrender. "I was helping. You look like shit. No need to bite."
I push past him into the bathroom and slam the door. I lean against it. I try to breathe.
Just Gio. Just annoying, stupid Gio.
I turn on the tap. I let the cold water run.
This is fine. I'm fine.
…
"Jin!" I yell, already halfway into his room. "Did you take my sunglasses again? Because this isn't funny, man. We are not babies anymore."
Both of them are on the bed. Jin is on his phone. And Gio has his elbows on his knees, holding something in his hands that he definitely isn't supposed to be touching.
My freaking sketchbook.
"Wow," Gio says, not even looking up.
"Barging in, yelling. Is this your process before a date, or are we mid-nervous breakdown?"
I ignore him, tear through the pile of clothes on the chair, check under the desk, crouch by the bed. Nothing.
Jin stretches lazily. "I didn't touch your sunglasses."
I shoot him a glare. "You didn't touch them last time either, and then you 'found' them in your drawer a week later."
He smirks. "Accidents happen."
"You're not funny."
"Neither are you," Gio mutters, flipping another page of my sketchbook. "This one's kinda good though."
I snatch it from his hands. "Give me that."
He raises both brows. "Touchy."
Jin laughs. "You're just mad because you're flustered. You're totally flustered."