Chapter 15 First Time
Sophia finished her assignment before she let herself read Vinny’s morning text.
The confirmation screen stayed open on her laptop: actually done.
Then she picked up her phone. Vinny: Morning, girlfriend.
Sophia dropped it facedown, picked it up again, and answered before one word could become a whole project.
Sophia: Morning, boyfriend. Constance walked in, saw her face, and did not need evidence.
She asked the necessary questions over coffee: where Sophia might see him, whether school was handled, whether Sophia felt safe, whether she could say no, and whether she could change her mind after saying yes.
Sophia answered yes to each one. Constance didn’t lecture.
“Then keep knowing it,” she said. “And text me where you are.”
Vinny: Also, morning again. I am normal.
Sophia laughed.
Constance’s mouth softened. “He makes you happy.”
Sophia touched the edge of the phone.
“Yes.”
“Right.”
At Bella Luna, Sophia arrived early and found Vinny in the dining room before anyone else could turn their new relationship into a public event.
“Hi, girlfriend.”
Her heart tripped.
“Hi, boyfriend.”
They got maybe thirty private seconds before Antonia caught them smiling and sent them to work with congratulations and a warning not to slow her kitchen.
Gia arrived next, figured it out in under a minute, hugged Sophia after asking permission, and almost cried.
Victoria came in after that, looked only at Sophia first, and asked, “Your choice?”
Sophia nodded. “Yes.”
That was enough.
The comedy caught up, but Sophia and Vinny had gotten their moment first.
Mostly. At three, Sophia’s phone buzzed.
Vinny: Do you have plans tonight?
She looked toward the kitchen. He was wiping down his station, not looking at her. Fair. No pressure. Still, her pulse jumped.
Sophia: Reading is done. Assignment submitted. I have tomorrow’s notes started.
Vinny: That sounds like a yes with footnotes.
Sophia smiled.
Sophia: Maybe.
Vinny: Do you want dinner? My place or somewhere public. Or I can bring food to your place if your mom would rather interrogate me sooner.
Sophia stared at the words. My place. Offered beside options.
Not placed like a test. Her thumb hovered over the screen.
She looked toward the kitchen again. Vinny glanced up, saw her looking, and immediately held up one hand like he was backing away from the answer from across the room.
She almost laughed. Then she typed before she could overthink herself into canceling her own want.
Sophia: Your place.
She watched him read it. He went very still. Then looked at her. Not hungry first. Careful first. He typed instead of saying anything out loud.
Vinny: Are you sure?
Sophia: Yes.
Vinny: We can just eat. Nothing has to happen.
Her face warmed. Her whole body warmed.
Sophia: I know.
Then, after one breath:
Sophia: I want to be alone with you.
Vinny read it. Closed his eyes for one second. Then typed back.
Vinny: All right.
Another message came after a pause.
Vinny: I want that too.
Victoria caught Sophia’s face after the text and understood at once.
“His place?” Sophia nodded. This time Victoria didn’t say no.
She asked whether Sophia wanted to go, whether she could leave, and whether she would text the address to both her and Constance.
Sophia said yes to all of it. Constance answered with the same essentials: address, expected time home, and one question that mattered.
Mom: Do you feel safe? Sophia looked at Vinny waiting across the hallway, tense and careful, and typed yes.
Vinny closed the door behind her. “I panicked-cleaned.”
She smiled. “I can tell.”
“Bad?”
“No. Kind of sweet.”
“I moved three piles of mail into my bedroom, so don’t open mysterious doors.”
“I wasn’t planning to search your mail.”
“Right. There is nothing interesting. Mostly bills and one coupon for tires.”
Sophia’s nerves eased once she saw the apartment: clean counters, old couch, cookbooks, video games, and family photos on the shelf.
Vinny admitted he had panic-cleaned. She teased him for it, then noticed the picture of his father and asked.
Dinner was simple pasta by Vinny standards, which meant beautiful by anyone else’s, and he didn’t get offended when she told him Constance had asked whether she could leave.
“If Anna or Mary were at a guy’s apartment, I’d want someone asking,” he said.
After dinner, they cleared the bowls together.
Sophia rinsed hers before he could stop her; he started to object, caught himself, and closed his mouth.
“Learning,” she said. “Painfully.” The kitchen suddenly felt very short.
“I finished my assignment,” she said.
“I know.”
“I told my mother where I am.”
“I know.”
“Victoria has your address.”
“I assumed.”
“I know I can leave.”
His jaw tightened for half a second. Not anger. Feeling.
“I know you can,” he said.
Sophia’s hands trembled. She clasped them together, then stopped because hiding the tremble felt worse.
“I don’t want to leave yet.”
Vinny’s breath shifted.
“All right.”
“I might get nervous.”
“That’s fine.”
“I might need to stop.”
“Then we stop.”
“I might not know what I want until I’m in the middle of wanting it.”
His eyes darkened, but his voice stayed gentle.
“Then we slow down until you know.”
Sophia swallowed. There was a strange ache in her chest. Want and nerves and trust all tangled together. She stepped around the counter. Vinny didn’t move until she reached him.
Then he asked, “Can I touch you?”
“Yes.”
His hands settled at her waist, careful. Warm. Familiar now, but not enough to be ordinary. Sophia put her hands on his chest. His heart was beating hard. That made her feel better.
“You’re nervous,” she said.
His mouth curved. “Very.”
“Because of me?”
“Yeah.”
“Still?”
“Especially.”
Her fingers curled lightly into his shirt.
“Good,” she whispered.
That surprised him. It surprised her too. His eyes warmed.
“Good?”
“I don’t want to be the only one.”
“You are definitely not.”
His joke broke the last of the stiffness.
She rose onto her toes and kissed him. Vinny made that soft sound she had started to know, the one that seemed to come out of him before he could stop it.
His hands tightened at her waist, then eased again.
Sophia kissed him longer this time. Not a quick side-alley kiss or a careful apartment-steps first kiss.
A boyfriend kiss. That thought made her smile against his mouth.
Vinny pulled back just enough. “What?”
“Boyfriend kiss,” she said, then immediately wanted to vanish.
His grin came slow and wicked enough to make her knees feel unreliable.
“I can work with that.”
“Don’t get smug.”
“Too late.”
She laughed, and he kissed the laugh from her mouth.
That felt unfair. Wildly unfair. The kiss deepened in the narrow kitchen, and Sophia stopped thinking about where to put her hands because they found places on their own.
His shoulders. The back of his neck. His hair, once, which made him inhale sharply and hold still.
She pulled back. “All right?”
His laugh came out rough. “Sophia.”
“What?”
“If you put your hands in my hair and ask if I’m fine, I am going to need a second.”
Her face burned.
“Oh.”
He touched her cheek. “Not bad. Very not bad.”
She looked at him. That heat in his voice did something new low in her stomach.
“Say that again,” she said before she could stop herself.
His expression changed.
“What?”
Her face went hotter, but she didn’t take it back.
“You sounded…” She searched for the word and failed. “I liked it.”
Vinny looked at her like she had just knocked the floor crooked. Then he stepped closer, slowly, and brushed his thumb along her cheek.
“I like your hands in my hair,” he said, voice lower now. “I like you touching me. I like knowing you want to.”
Sophia forgot how to breathe.
“There?” he asked softly.
She nodded.
“Yes.”
“Too far?”
“No.”
He kissed her again. This time, when his hands slid from her waist to her back, she leaned into him instead of stiffening.
His body was warm and solid against hers, and she became suddenly aware of every place they touched: chest, hips, hands, mouth.
She made a low sound into the kiss and felt Vinny go still.
He pulled back at once. “Too far?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.” She held his shirt. “I just didn’t know I was going to make that noise.”
His eyes darkened again, but the corner of his mouth softened.
“All right.”
“Is that weird?”
“No.” His thumb moved gently at her back. “It is not weird. Not at all.”
She laughed because she had to or she would combust. He rested his forehead near hers.
“Do you want to move to the couch?” he asked. “Just to sit. Or kiss. Or stop. Any version.”
Sophia looked toward the living room. The old brown couch. The coffee table. The lamp he had turned on low. His apartment. Her choice.
“Yes.”
Vinny took her hand and led her to the couch, then sat at one end, leaving space.
Sophia looked at the space. Then at him.
He looked almost painfully careful. She loved that.
No. That word flashed too bright, too sudden.
She pushed it back because tonight already had enough.
She sat beside him, closer than the space he had left.
His breath caught. Decent. She liked that too.
Maybe she was learning things about herself very quickly.
Vinny lifted a hand. “Can I kiss you again?”
Sophia smiled. “You can stop asking that one every time.”
His eyes searched hers. “Yeah?”
“If I need you to stop, I’ll tell you.”
He nodded.
Then he said, “I’ll still check.”
“I know.”