CHAPTER 24 – CASPIAN
Never in my life have I felt this stupid. I’ve been rehearsing lunch. I even wrote a list. An actual goddamn list where I remind myself to greet, tip, and order normally.
I’m going to ask for Antonio’s number today. The thought makes my stomach clench in a nauseating mix of hope and terror. I’ve been practicing the asking part, too, because that’s what I have become.
For what must be the fifth time already, I stand in front of the mirror.
“Could I have your number?” I say out loud.
Oh God.
I shouldn’t be allowed in restaurants. I shouldn’t even be allowed in public.
Success seems unlikely, but apparently that’s not stopping me.
I even invited Cole with me for moral support and to show Antonio I’m not some weird loner.
I haven’t told Cole about Antonio, though. What could I say?
Hey, Cole, guess what? I think I’m in love. Every thought of him is an exhilarating swoosh in the pit of my stomach. Ps. He hates me.
“It’s here,” I tell Cole after I’ve parked. I gesture toward the trattoria. “Hidden gem. Family-run. Traditions.”
My hand sweeps the air.
“Okay,” Cole says slowly, looking at me funnily.
I can’t blame him.
I sound like I’m shooting a commercial for an authentic pasta lifestyle.
“Did you get a haircut?” Cole asks.
“Yeah. Maybe.”
As if I didn’t spend forty minutes at the barbershop for Antonio.
Things start to go wrong from the moment we step inside and see his sister.
“Antonio! Il tuo sugar daddy è tornato!” she yells.
Sugar daddy?
When I see Antonio with his perfectly messy curls and those espresso eyes, every coherent thought evaporates.
He looks like sin and judgment rolled into one.
He makes me forget language.
He frowns when he sees me. It’s a devastatingly adorable, confused little frown, and I want to trace it with my lips.
“You’re resilient,” he says sharply.
He glances at Cole, recognition flickering. He offers him a polite nod.
I get another scowl.
“You must like our food.”
“Yes,” I reply breathlessly.
Calm down, Caspian. It wasn’t a marriage proposal.
A ghost of a smile plays on his lips, but it’s gone before I blink.
“So, which is it?” he asks, tilting his head. “Sugar daddy or just an accountant who likes to dress the part?”
“I’m not either,” I choke out, sounding very much like both.
“You sure about that—Hilfiger?”
My soul leaves my body.
Was that flirting?
Did he just flirt with me?
We stare for a full, devastating second before he slams the door on whatever that was.
He huffs.
“I don’t have all day. I’ll bring you what you had last time.”
He turns to Cole.
“You’ll have the same. You’ll like it.”
He gives me one more scowl and returns to the kitchen with the grace of a ballet dancer and the temper of a hornet.
Cole keeps teasing me throughout lunch.
He’s delighted. I’m panicking.
When it’s time to pay, I make sure the tip is generous but not exaggerated.
I go over the words I’ve been practicing and then, taking a deep breath, I ask the question.
“Your phone. Could I have it?”
Cole’s head hits the table with a dull thud.
What is wrong with me?
I sounded like a polite phone thief.
I can’t believe there are people who call me Jackpot. I feel more like a jack-in-the-box no one ordered, but I keep springing up anyway.
Antonio stares at me.
“You want my phone?”
I clear my throat.
“Your number. Please.”
Cole lets out a strangled noise.
Several emotions flash in Antonio’s eyes before he gets his expression under control. Heat, regret, anger, sorrow.
Why does he look sad?
I hate that I can’t reach him.
“Sure,” he says.
For a thrilling moment I think he means it, but then the sarcastic tone clocks in.
“I’ll scribble it on your ego when it deflates.”
Then he pivots and vanishes into the kitchen.
Cole lets out a low whistle, but he looks sympathetic. “That was brutal.”
Yeah, it was.
But what bothers me most is not the snarky dismissal. It’s the hurt I saw in his eyes.
He looked like someone who’s waiting for a blow I have no intention of delivering.