Chapter 6 #2
I hesitated for a fraction of a second, taking in every inch of his face like it might suddenly disappear again.
If I had taken the time to pay attention to my body, I would've seen that every alarm bell was going off inside my head, but none of them were strong enough to drown out the pull I felt toward him.
“Hotel Sogni, I think?” I said slowly, stumbling over the pronunciation like I had all day long. “Do you know where it is?”
He nodded once, not even flinching at my terrible pronunciation. “Come on, I’ll walk you.”
Relief and disappointment crashed into each other so hard I nearly swayed.
It wasn’t lost on me that I was following this man—this stranger—into the dark, empty streets of Milan.
Walking through rain so thick you couldn’t see three feet ahead, and navigation around puddles of water so deep, they threatened to swallow any victim dumb enough to enter.
Cold air bit at my cheeks and tension prickled down my spine, but I wasn’t scared.
No. This was excitement, and a wave of euphoria flooded my veins as he took hold of my elbow again.
But unlike last time, he didn’t let go. He pulled me closer into his side, his fingers a gentle caress as they slid along the base of my spine before wrapping around the cold fabric of my dress.
My heart was a syncopated nightmare as I stepped closer to him, but all he did was look down and smile once I was tucked firmly against his side.
We stepped out into the barrage of rain held back by only the thin fabric of the umbrella, the lower halves of our bodies getting wetter almost immediately as we moved.
The wind was relentless, but V kept his umbrella perfectly positioned and his body angled just enough to shield me from the worst of it.
We didn’t speak as we walked.
I was aware that we probably should have.
I had a thousand questions on the tip of my tongue.
I wanted to ask his name—his real name—or why he was here, but instead my attention was laser-focused on the feeling of his body against mine.
I was hyper-aware of every place our bodies touched, sizzling from every second of it.
The warmth radiating from his palm. The way his thumb rested against the inside of my left elbow.
The scent of rain and something darker clinging to his clothes.
My thoughts were almost sluggish, similar to the way it felt when I was drunk, and my body felt heavy and light all at once.
Things started to look familiar after a few turns, and as we passed by a small pasticceria, I closed my eyes as the smell of butter and coffee and chocolate filled my nose. “Are you hungry?” I asked, the question slipping out before I could stop it.
I looked up at him to see his mouth curve faintly. “Always.”
“Do you want to eat? I have time—” I began, but stopped speaking the second he shook his head no.
“Not tonight.”
“Sorry,” I said quietly, not loud enough for him to hear.
I did my best to hide the disappointment that flooded my chest, and focused instead on the way his thumb had lightly caressed my elbow when we stopped.
It probably hadn’t even been on purpose.
I had been so caught up with the moment of finally speaking to my violist, I hadn’t had time to question if it would happen again.
When my hotel came into view, I slowed instinctively, not wanting our walk to end.
“You’re thinking,” he said, not looking down at me.
“Yes, I am,” I said back, glancing once at him out of the corner of my eye. “I do that sometimes. You should try it.”
His lips twitched in response to my teasing tone, but he didn’t smile. “Dangerous habit.”
He stopped us beneath the hotel’s dark green awning that jutted out over the sidewalk. Warm light spilled from the glass doors that led to the lobby, framing my violist in gold and shadow, and I desperately wanted to kiss him.
For a moment, neither of us moved. I stared into his eyes, wishing I could bring myself to do it—to press my lips to his—but I couldn’t.
I was afraid that whatever this was between us was too fragile to survive, and I didn’t want to break it before it began.
Instead, I parted my lips slightly to say something, and watched as his gaze flicked down to my mouth.
“What’s your name?” he asked, the words only strengthening the spell he had over me.
“Ari,” I said softly, begging the universe to finally let me hear what it sounded like on his lips.
I took a single step closer in preparation, slipping my thumb into the fold of his lapel as his breath hitched.
His eyes darkened in response, and he leaned closer until I was sure my heart was going to burst out of my chest. I couldn’t process what he was doing fast enough, so I became nothing more than someone watching reality happen to them, waiting for his lips to crash into mine.
Except they didn’t. His mouth dipped towards my ear, and his hot breath teased my cheek and neck, sending a rush of adrenaline through my body.
“If you really came to Milan for me, Miss Ari, meet me here tomorrow at ten PM. I’ll take you out for a drink.” His words made my heart flutter, and I had every intention of following his command.
“Okay,” I said breathlessly, unable to form a coherent thought.
My knees were weak as he pulled away, lifting the umbrella over his head again as he left nothing but cold air to fill the space his body had just vacated.
As if on instinct, I reached my hand out towards him, realizing I wasn’t ready to see him go, and I had no idea where he would take me tomorrow.
“Wait! What should I wear?” I shouted after him.
He froze, turning slightly to look over his shoulder. “Whatever you want.”
“I just— I mean, are we going to have dinner after? Or is it just drinks? Or maybe we’re going… dancing?”
He tilted his head slightly then nodded once. “Yes. But don’t wear heels. You’ll regret them. Wear tennis shoes.” A sly smile crossed his face as he glanced down to my feet, but he turned his head before I could see any other expressions on his face.
“Okay! See you tomorrow,” I shouted, feeling more awkward than I should have.
“Goodnight, Ari,” I heard him say, only a second before he faded into the darkness.
Reality imploded as my name finally settled in the place it’d always belonged.
The way he said it felt like a promise and a threat all at once, but it was better than anything I’d ever dreamed up.
My knees were weak at the idea of going on an actual date with my violist, and all I could do was stand there with my mouth open.
The world was dusted with little sparks of joy everywhere I looked, and I bit my lip and smiled like a silly girl in love. This was too good to be true.