The Color of Her Lips

Chapter Nineteen

Ariana

We decided to go for a walk after the dinner, so we're slowly walking down Times Square. I love NYC, it's beautiful.

Michael didn't dare to ask me again what his brother did to me. He just repeated multiple times that I'm perfect...and as much as it sounded cheesy, it felt actually good to hear.

The lights of the city make his amber eyes beam. He looks like he has never seen New York, his gaze is fascinated by it.

"You've never been here before, have you?" I ask him out of the blue.

He turns his head towards me. "What? Oh, no. I've been here plenty of times actually." He smiles, showing off those super straight white teeth and his dimples. "I just...love this city so much, you know?"

I look up at him, waiting for him to continue. I shiver. Geez, it's cold. Well, it's snowing so duh.

"I love the lights, the people, the skyscrapers, the snow in the winter...everything." He pauses and looks up at the sky. "I'd move here if I hadn't had the casino."

"I love New York...too," I say with a shiver.

He looks down at me and frowns, a crease forming between his eyebrows and his hair slightly damp because of the snow—he forgot to bring a beanie. "Come here," he says, and stretches an arm out, motioning for me to move closer.

I do and he circles my shoulders so his coat covers me a little. He's so warm... "Thank you," I tell him, my hands in my pockets.

We keep walking and chatting like that for a while, until we reach the big Christmas tree.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he says under his breath, the cold breeze reddening his nose. He's cute and looks like a reindeer.

"Yeah..." I sigh. "I wish Sally was here."

We stare at the bright tree. His hand slides down to my waist and I feel his hold tighten around me, as if to reassure me.

We stand there, and I lean my head against his pec. With his other gloved hand, he strokes my cheek. "Hey, she'll be okay. You'll be okay, Ariana."

I swallow down a sob. "I hope so." When I look into his eyes, all I see is pure concern. Ugh, he's seeing me at my worst. I hate this.

"You're a strong woman," he whispers in my ear, and then plants the softest kiss on my forehead.

I sniff and take a step back, a little startled by that gesture. "We should get going..."

"Yup, let's go."

• • •

"Can I ask you a question?" he says when we walk in the elevator.

I nod simply. I feel sleepy, my eyes are heavy.

"Answer only if you want to...I don't demand an answer."

"It's okay," I reassure him as I take off my beanie.

He rubs the back of his neck. "How did you get that scar on your chest?"

Shit. I knew he was going to ask me that. "Uh...Michael, actually I-uh..." I don't want to answer right now. Maybe another time. It's hard for me.

He nods. "Okay, I totally get—"

"Oh shit." I exclaim. "Oh shit!" I widen my eyes, panicking.

Michael looks confused. "Ari, what—"

"Shit, shit, shit!"

"Stop saying shit, tell me what's going on!" he says.

I'm freaking out. I start pushing the button to make the elevator go back down frantically.