Chapter 6
He tilts his head. "Go on."
I take a breath. Shit. My ears are burning.
"Do you actually…" I pause, glance at him, then look back down. "Do you have that tattoo?"
"You’re gonna have to be a little more specific."
Of course. I give him a look and then quickly jerk my chin down toward his pants.
My face is on fire. He freezes for half a second. Then smiles. "Ohhh. So you’ve heard about that."
"I didn’t want to!" I say quickly. "She wouldn’t shut up about it!"
"So?" he says, still grinning. "You think it’s true?"
I swallow hard. "I don’t know. Is it?"
He leans back, arms behind his head, body stretching out right beside me. The edge of his shirt lifts slightly, teasing skin.
His biceps flex under the pillow of his hands. His eyes are smiling. "Right in front of you," he says smoothly.
"Check for yourself. If you’ve got the balls."
Every single part of me stops working. That’s it. I want to collapse on the spot.
Why would he say that? To me?
A fragile poor little educator-in-training?
I stand up so fast my leg hits the corner of the bed.
"Okay! That’s it. Nope. I’m done." I move to leave.
But he grabs my wrist. "Sit down, you freak."
I hesitate.
He tugs gently, and somehow I find myself back on the bed before I even think it through. My cheeks are scorching.
I turn away from him, refusing to look. Refusing to breathe. "Guess you’ll never find out," he says in a low voice, almost a whisper.
I clench my jaw. "Fine by me. Better that way."
And without looking, without speaking again, I open my laptop and start typing.
27) Let Me Go
Rava
It’s been an hour. Maybe more.
My fingers are cramping from all the typing, my eyes are dry, and my brain feels like mashed potatoes. I let out a quiet sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. "Will you stop mumbling already?" Gio says without looking up, still going through that box of his.
Crap. I have been mumbling.
I always do when I’m concentrating too hard. "I was about to take a break, anyway," I mutter. "I’m tired."
I shut the laptop and push it aside. My hands are stiff. I lean back a little, stretching, and glance over at him. He’s still bent over the box, sorting through stacks of old photos.
"I’m hungry," I say, rubbing my eyes. Without looking up, he says, "I thought you’d be, after staring at me so much."
I swear every time I finally calm down, he has to open his mouth and say something that launches me straight back into rage.
It’s like he’s allergic to my peace.
"Shut up, asshole."
He snorts, flipping through another handful of pictures. I watch him for a second longer, then frown.
"What are you even looking for?" I ask, pressing my palms to my cheeks to make myself comfortable.
"Photo of me and my dad. I know it’s here somewhere. The rest of this is just… old crap."
I lean over, curiosity getting the better of me. The photos are mostly faded, warm-toned, clearly years old. Birthdays. Family trips. Parties I definitely wasn’t invited to.
"I’ve got some of you in here," Gio says casually, tossing one stack aside. I snap my head toward him.
"Where?"
Before he can answer, he pulls one out and suddenly bursts out laughing.
Oh no. He found a picture of me.
And judging by the expression on his face, it’s definitely not a good photo. "What? What is it? Let me see."
He holds it out of reach, laughing harder now.
"Damn, I forgot you had braces and blue glasses. That’s a crime."
"Give it to me!" I lunge toward him, grabbing for the picture. "No way! This is gold."
"Gio, give it." I reach across, but he leans back on the bed, holding the photo above his head like a goddamn trophy.
I climb up after it, practically on top of him now. He keeps twisting, dodging, blocking me with one arm while he laughs like a maniac.
"You’re such a little shit," I hiss, reaching for his hand.
"Try harder," he grins.
I do. He raises his arm higher, right out of reach. So I shove myself upward, and my palm lands right on his chest.
I stretch further, literally hovering over his pants. My fingers graze the edge of the photo, and then suddenly, I’m on my back.
Gio flips us in one fluid movement.
My head hits the mattress, and he’s above me, pinning both my wrists against my chest with one hand.
The photo is nowhere in sight now.
Well. This was definitely not part of the plan.
Annoyance shoots through me instantly. Mainly because he’s using his physical strength against me. He’s so close it literally feels illegal.
So close that if our families walked in, they would both pass out, wake up, scream, and pass out again. His face is so close I can see the flecks of gold in his eyes. The room goes still.
My heart starts pounding so loud I can’t even hear myself think. "Let me go," I say.
He tilts his head, with a lazy smirk. "Why? You look good under me. You look pretty."
Pretty. I freeze like an idiot.
Because let’s get this straight: I am not in a pretty position.
I’m pinned down like a helpless little ragdoll, his one hand wrapped around both my wrists, my legs tangled under him.
I look pathetic, weak, and cornered. And apparently, in Gio’s twisted universe, THAT counts as "pretty."
He keeps looking at me. He suddenly smiles, slowly.
"I’m sure your dad would kill us both if he walked in right now…" His voice drops. "I just don’t know who he’d shoot first, me or you."
I tense. Try to pull my hands back. His grip tightens. "You’re insane," I whisper. "I’ll tell him you started it. You’re hitting on me. That’s what I’ll say. You’ll get the blame, and I’ll finally have some peace."
He leans in, close enough that his breath brushes my cheek.
"Yeah?" he says. "Tell him. But I bet he won’t believe you. Not when I describe to him the way you’re looking at me right now."
And then, just like that, he lets go. I shoot up like I’ve been electrocuted, scrambling to the edge of the goddamn bed.
My face is on fire. I adjust my glasses with shaking hands and force my legs to carry me to the desk like nothing happened. "Whatever," I say, sitting down. "Don’t show me the picture. I don’t care."
He doesn’t say anything. I need him not to say anything.
"You know… people who constantly tease others as a form of connection usually have unresolved attachment issues or are subconsciously testing boundaries for intimacy."
There’s a pause. Then Gio laughs. "You are such a fucking nerd." He chuckles again, shaking his head as he flops back on the bed. I pull the laptop toward me once more.
Still so much work to do. Still so much of him in my head. "Get up," Gio says. I turn and give him a flat look from over my shoulder. "No."
He raises an eyebrow, already smirking. "Come on. Take a break. I’ll feed you or something. Maybe then you’ll shut up for five seconds."
"I’m fine."
"If you don’t get up, I swear I’ll drag you and that squeaky-ass chair downstairs together."
I roll my eyes and turn back to my laptop.
"There’s not much left to finish anyway. I’ll… just head out. Consider yourself relieved of my presence."
He doesn’t push back. "Finally," he mutters, flopping onto his bed dramatically and reaching out to scratch Lulu’s chin.
"Go back to your peaceful, nerd-filled world. You’ve served your sentence."
I lean down toward Lulu. "Pspspspsps."
She looks up, blinks… and jumps off the bed, trotting straight over to me. I grin.
Victory.
I crouch and give her a few slow strokes down her back. She purrs like I’m the chosen one. Gio clicks his tongue behind me, annoyed. I straighten up, slinging my bag over my shoulder.
"I’m going."
He doesn’t move from the bed, just waves lazily with two fingers. "Bye, Ravaaa…"
I roll my eyes again and make my way downstairs.
He follows this time. Unfortunately. When we get to the front door, I hesitate for half a second.
He opens it for me and leans against the doorframe. "You gonna be weird about this tomorrow, or are we pretending like none of this happened?"
I glance at him. "What exactly do you think this was?"
He grins. "Your awakening?"
I snort. "You’re insufferable."
"Yeah, yeah. Get outta here."
As soon as I step out of his yard and onto the street, I stop and look back at his house.
What the hell just happened in there?
28) It’s Happening
Rava
I close the door behind me with a bit more force than needed, drop my keys in the bowl and just stand there.
My chest? Still on fucking fire. I kick off my shoes and walk straight to my desk. My hands are literally still shaking.
That moment when Gio leaned over me, so close I could feel his breath, the moment he challenged me.
I actually looked down there to make sure my dick was not up. I shouldn’t have looked.
But I fucking did. Because apparently, my dick can’t tell whether it’s a man or a woman on top of me. I groan and open my laptop.
Presentation time. Yes.
Safe, boring, educational presentation, because that’s what normal people do at night. They don’t go semi-catatonic because some guy with a tattoo and a smirk decides to lean over them like some damn scene from a Netflix show.
I stare at the screen. Type one sentence. Delete it.
Type another. "Nope," I mutter. "Absolutely not." I slam the laptop shut and pick up my phone, scrolling down to Noah’s contact.
Calling…
He picks up on the second ring. "DUDE."
"Hello to you, too! What?" I flop down on my bed.
"Yeah yeah, hello. You will not believe what happened. Remember Ethan?" He says.
"The one with the ears?"
"The one with the perfect jawline."
"Oh, right." I sit up a little. "What happened?"
"He proposed to his ex’s sister. IN A SKI LODGE. With her mom in the room."
"...What the actual fuck."
"I KNOW. She said yes."
I cover my face. "Your life is like reality TV without the cameras."
"Yeah right, while yours is totally normal. Nothing special, you know." We laugh. I hate that he’s right.
"So, did you pitch my genius idea to that Gio guy?"
"What idea?"
"brO." He sounds literally offended. "The plan! The revenge arc! The fake makeout sabotage moment!"