Page 73 of Because I Need You
“Where have you been?”
“Working.” He reached over and switched on the light beside his side of the bed. Now, I could see more, but not enough since he had it at the lowest setting.
“For three days straight?”
“You worried about me, Isabel?” His voice was rigid as he threw a smirk over his shoulder.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Yes?” He turned a little more, surprise written on his face.
“I was worried.”
He looked at me for a long time, so long that I couldn’t help but wonder what was running through his mind. Maybe I should have moved to the guest room, after all. Maybe he needed his space and I was all up in it, demanding things he didn’t, couldn’t, give me. Maybe he would rip the Band-Aid and tell me he’d moved on. It was best if he did. It would break my heart, but that was what should happen.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low, a near whisper, “Are you going to let me touch you?”
I’d not been expecting that. The question nearly took the air out of me. I looked down, focusing on my fingernails, and shook my head slowly. It wasn’t that I didn’t want it. I seemed to want it more and more as the seconds ticked by, and even more in this moment, but he had to understand that it was the only way to shield myself from him encompassing me entirely.
“Was that what you were doing?” I asked quietly, lifting my gaze to his. “Touching someone else?”
“No.” His eyes narrowed. “The only person I’m interested in touching is sitting in my bed, denying me.” He turned back around and switched the light off, lying down. “Good night, Isabel.”
I turned my back and did the same. I wasn’t sure why his answer brought such relief, but it did, and I finally got a good night’s rest.
The next morning, he was gone. I showered and looked in the mirror. I looked awful. With a heavy sigh, I set down my makeup bag. I needed something to help the swelling from all the crying and lack of sleep. I went to the kitchen, made myself coffee, and grabbed an ice pack from the freezer. The house was quiet, so I went back to the room, pressing it to my cheeks. When I heard the elevator door opened, I quickened my steps and shut the bedroom door quietly behind me. It could’ve been Petra or Joey or whoever else, but I didn’t want to see them yet. Not yet. I headed upstairs, grabbing a blanket to throw over myself as I went outside. I sat down on the couch, setting my mug down to wrap myself better before picking it up and lifting it to my lips. I shut my eyes and breathed the natural Chicago air. It always seemed to be chilly in the mornings, the gusts of wind seemingly picking up every so often and crashing against my skin.
I set the mug down again and leaned back on the couch, closing my eyes as the sun hit my face. It felt like heaven. At the feel of the couch dipping beside me, I startled, eyes popping open as I looked to find Giovanni. He wasn’t looking at me, his eyes were set on something in the distance. The extensive body of water of Lake Michigan, I assumed. He was wearing black shorts and a gray T-shirt that was wet, his hair messy in a way that made me want to tame it. I realized he must have been working out. After three days of non-stop work, he’d gotten up early to work out. I shook my head. His jaw was working with much more than just a five o’clock shadow now, and I had to fight the urge to run my fingertips over it, just to feel the prickle of hair against them. He did look exhausted, but still unfairly gorgeous. Meanwhile, I was holding an icepack to the bags under my eyes.
“When I was fourteen, my father decided I needed to get laid,” he said, voice gruff as he spoke. My attention snapped back to his face. He was still staring at the lake, or the sky, or whatever, just not at me. “It wasn’t like I had lack of options. A lot of kids my age were already getting action. I just…” He shrugged. “I wasn’t in a rush to do that, if you can believe it.” He let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head. “But one of my best friends at the time, Vinny, your half-brother.” He paused to glance in my direction for a beat, then looked away and continued. “He had gotten laid and was boasting about it to anyone who would listen, so my father decided that no way in hell was one of his associates’ sons going to one-up his son.” He leaned back on the couch, crossing his feet at the ankles. “So, he drove me to someone’s house, dropped me off for a few hours, and I got laid.”
