Chapter Two
Dante
I find her by the rose bushes, leaning back against the garden wall with her head tilted toward the moon.
My chest tightens with a mix of affection and desire.
The air is thick with the sweet, intoxicating scent of the blooms. The evening air is chilly, but it doesn't seem to bother her as her focus stays on the moon.
My footsteps are silent on the grass as I approach her, so she doesn't immediately notice me. She seems lost in thought, fingers playing idly with the bouquet she caught and tracing the outlines of the petals, her feet barefoot on the grass. I don’t disturb her solitude but, instead, stand back to watch her.
She’s stunning.
Gia Marino is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and it feels like I’ve been around them all.
Bathed in the soft glow of the evening light, her blond hair has a silvery glow and falls down her shoulders like liquid gold.
Those pretty green eyes sparkle, reflecting the moon’s light with such an ethereal feel to it.
And there is something incredibly soft and innocent about her, something that urges me to do what I’ve been holding myself back from doing all these weeks.
Taking her.
Right here on the grass and away from the chaos of the party. No one would miss us, that's for sure. I could lay her down on the grass, kiss that mouth until she opened for me, before tracing my lips down the rest of her body.
Fuck, how I’ve wanted to touch that smooth porcelain skin and kiss every inch of it from the moment I saw her. Still, I do nothing.
Twelve weeks.
That's how fucking long I've been around this girl, pretending I want to be her friend when, in actuality, there is nothing platonic about the way I feel for her. Gia calls to the animal in me, but so far, I've managed to keep him collared.
When she visibly shivers, I strip off my jacket and walk to her before draping it over her shoulders. She tears her eyes from the moon and looks over, smiling dreamily at me, and for the first time, I notice the empty wine glass lying on the grass to her left.
She’s drunk.
This is a first. In the time I've known Gia, I've never seen her drink. I didn't even know she drank anything but water. Since we connected at Matteo’s reception, our friendship has strengthened, despite the age gap. We’ve shared enough meals together—dinners after rehearsals, late-night takeout, weekend brunches—for me to know she’s strict about her diet.
Alcohol is the one thing she never indulges in.
“Gia, how much have you had to drink?” I ask, crouching in front of her.
I curse myself for leaving her earlier. Matteo summoned me to his home office to discuss the business that had taken me to LA, and I should have postponed the discussion for another fucking day.
There is nothing more important to me than Gia.
What drove her to drink alone? She loves spending time with her sisters and cousins—she’d never normally seek out solitude like this.
I should have stayed with her so she wouldn’t end up hiding behind some garden wall to drink alone.
“The moon is so pretty tonight, don’t you think?” she says, grinning at me before turning back to stare at the giant ball in the sky. “It’s been spinning and spinning and spinning—”
“Gia,” I clasp her chin and force those pretty eyes back on mine. “How many glasses did you have?”
"Wine," she beams at me, her entire face lighting up for a second before she scrunches her forehead in thought.
"Or was it champagne? I don't know, but I had two…
or maybe it was one and a half. Some of it spilled on the grass.
" Her mouth dips with a pout. "Do you think Sofia will be mad at me for spilling wine on her grass? "
“No, Gia, she won’t.”
“Okay, I believe you. You never lie to me,” she says, offering me a soft smile that tugs at my heart in ways it’s never done before her.
How I wish her words were true. “I’m a little sleepy.
I could lie here all night and just watch the moon.
Hey, you should join me.” She gestures beside her, and the move nearly sends her toppling over.
I wrap my arms around her shoulders to steady her.
I study her, trying to gauge whether or not she’ll be able to walk on her own before deciding it doesn’t matter anyway.
It’s an excuse to carry her, and I’ll take it.
"The grass is cold and dewy; you'll be more comfortable in bed. I’ll take you home,” I say, sliding an arm under her knees and the other around her back before lifting her into my arms. Christ, she’s light as a feather and fits so perfectly tucked in my arms.
“I don’t want to go home,” she whines, dropping her head to my shoulder. “I want to stay here and watch the moon.”
“You can watch the moon on the ride home,” I tell her, grabbing her purse and heading out. I don’t bother alerting anyone that we’re leaving. Security will inform Matteo and Sofia that I’ve left with Gia. Hell, we spend so much fucking time together that barely anyone questions it anyway.
“You smell so good,” Gia murmurs, nuzzling her face into my throat and inhaling loudly. “I love the way you smell. Like a forest when it rains.”
Huh. “And what else do you like about me?” I ask, unable to help myself.
“Your face,” she whispers, pushing back to look at me. “Your eyes and your mouth and your hair and your nose.” She lifts her finger to my nose and boops it before dropping her head back to my shoulder in a fit of giggles. “You're big too. Are you big under your clothes? Like really, really big?”
“Maybe I’ll let you see for yourself someday.”
I arrive at my car and open the passenger door before gently arranging her in the seat and fastening her seatbelt.
I climb into the car and consider dropping her off at her apartment, but I don’t trust her roommates to take care of her.
I’ve seen the way they look at Gia when they are all at rehearsals.
To them, she’s competition and a colleague at best, but nothing more.
No, I wouldn't consider them her friends.
Fuck, now that I think about it, Gia doesn't have many of those outside of her sisters and cousins. And me.
I turn to her, reaching up to brush her hair from her face. “What do you say we watch the moon from my place tonight?” I ask her. When she looks at me, there is a wide smile on her face. So innocent. So trusting.
“Okay.”
The ride to my apartment is spent talking about the moon, and I find myself fascinated by this side of Gia. She’s a little more affectionate than usual as she reaches out to touch me, her hand seeking some form of connection even for a few minutes. Then, she dives into more commentary on the moon.
“Did you know that footprints on the moon will probably last for millions of years?" she asks, her hand gripping my arm as I pull into my building's lot and drive to my spot. "Oh, here's another fun fact. The moon has little earthquakes, but they're called moonquakes. Funny, right?"
“Uh huh.” I park the car and face her. Her cheeks are rosy and her eyes a little less dazed than they were when we left Matteo’s place. “We’re here, Gia. How are you feeling?”
"Like I'm floating. Hey, do you know that the moon's gravity is about a sixth of the Earth's, right? So you won't float exactly, but you can jump really high."
I guess I’m carrying her the rest of the way. There is also the matter that she doesn’t have any shoes on. I forgot to fucking grab them.
I walk around to her side, and she giggles as I lift her into my arms, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and dropping her head to my shoulder with a sigh.
I get more moon trivia on the elevator ride to the penthouse, and I imagine that she’ll want to head straight to bed after the day she’s had.
But the second we’re inside, she jumps from my arms, and I have to grab her before she plummets face-first to the floor.
“Let’s play a game,” she proclaims, raising a hand in the air and turning around to face me. “I’m thirsty. Can I have more wine?”
Charmed by this side of her, I nod, slowly guiding her to the sofa. “What game do you want to play?”
‘Chess!” she says with such enthusiasm that I can't help but smile. “I want to play chess. I think I can finally beat you tonight.”
I arch a brow, amused. “Finally?”
“Yes, finally,” she insists, pointing a finger at my chest with exaggerated confidence. “You never let me win, but tonight—tonight I feel lucky. Tonight, I'm going to destroy you.”
I bite back a laugh at her drunken bravado. She's been trying to beat me for weeks now, her competitive streak surfacing every time we sit across from each other with the board between us. “Is that so?”
“Absolutely,” she declares, attempting to cross her arms but swaying slightly. “I've been practicing. Well, not really, but I've been thinking about our games. And I know all your tricks now.”
“Alright, let’s see if tonight’s your lucky night,” I tell her, getting up and walking to the kitchen. I pour a glass of water and grab the chessboard on my way back to her.
She beams at me when she spots the board, sitting up, and I have to catch her before she can topple off the sofa.
I bring the glass to her mouth and hold it up for her as she drinks the water, fighting the urge to replace the glass with my lips and kiss her.
Christ, her lips look so soft and warm—I bet they taste fucking good too.
“Remember what I told you about chess?” I ask, setting the glass down and arranging the board between us.
“That you're the best,” she says with an eye roll, then grins. “But I'm the best at ballet, so we're even.”
I smirk. “I played chess before I could read," I tell her, placing the half-empty glass on the table then grabbing the chessboard. "My father wanted someone to play with but none of my brothers were interested in chess, so I learned it, beat him, and became a master of the game."