Untangle Me

Chapter 45

Andrea

Giada has been awfully quiet so far. She was already awake when I woke up the second time so I don't know for how long she had been. At first, I figured she was just a little tired. But we've been up and about for over an hour and she still seems to be somewhere in her head.

I can't even believe I fell right back asleep after she had that memory. Only seconds before, my heart was racing. Waking up to the woman in your bed screaming in her sleep would do that to you. But as soon as she was in my arms and stopped trembling it became impossible for me not to drift off again.

That says a lot about Giada and how comfortable I somehow am around her because sleep never used to come easy to me. There's always something to worry about in my line of work, believe it or not.

I've spent a few years not getting enough sleep and know what it can do to you. Knowing that Giada struggles with that now is a punch in the gut. She used to fall asleep wherever we were, no matter the time.

She's late for a date? Yep, you'll find her asleep on the couch. You come back from the bathroom after a shower? You guessed it, she's knocked out on the bed.

It always used to be like that and I quickly got fond of it. I don't want her to be scared to do something she loves now.

"Do you want to get breakfast?" I ask when we step into the mall. Giada shrugs, yep, shrugs. If I hadn't seen her last night, or this morning, however you want to call it when she woke up, I'd be worried she didn't want to do this. At least not with me.

As it is, I push those insecurities aside. She did seem enthusiastic about us shopping together on our way to bed yesterday so it's more likely she's just tired and shaken up over the memory than her having changed her mind.

I take the girl's hand in mine, squeezing it once before leading her towards the Starbucks. At the registry I order for us, suddenly weirdly nervous.

"One black coffee and one caramel Frappuccino, please. Oh, and two cinnamon rolls. Right?" I ask Giada the last part. She nods, smiling a small smile that doesn't reach her eyes and the two of us are off on the journey to find an empty table.

"You shouldn't have paid. You already did dinner last night, it would've been my turn," she protests when we sit down. I bite back a smile.

Here we go again.

If I play my cards right, she might just have to convince me to let her pay for me just as much as I do her like she did the last time. I like that idea.

Shrugging it off, I change the subject. "So, where do you want to go first?"

"I don't know. Is there anything you need?" she asks me.

"We didn't come here to shop for me. I'm all set."

"Well technically, so am I."

"Come on, Giada. You love buying stuff you don't need. How about we start out simple at Zara or something?" I propose. I want to cheer her up and how to better do that than by taking a trip down memory lane?

Genuinely asking. Please help because Giada is still not smiling.

Even when they call out our order and I set her cinnamon roll down in front of her.

"You've equipped me with a whole new closet, Andrea. I don't need any more clothes," she tells me. That leaves me stunned.

I sigh, trying to cover it up by taking a sip of my coffee. "Do you want to talk about it?" I finally ask.

"Talk about what?" she asks but I can see the wheels spinning behind those pretty eyes. She knows what I mean, she just needed another moment to decide on how to answer.

"The memory? The reason you're not skipping through the mall right now, a beautiful smile on your face while you drag me along. Why you're not trying on a gazillion clothes, showing me each and every one before putting ninety percent back," I reply without missing a beat.

And now the woman seems unable to hold my gaze. "Sorry. You're right, I'm being a bummer. Just a little tired but I'll pull myself together," she mumbles into her cinnamon roll. I'm not having it.

I take her free hand in mine and interlink our fingers. "I don't want you to put on an act, Tesoro. I want to help you."

She sighs again, staring at our hands now. "I'm tired," she repeats, her voice breaking. Just like my heart, apparently, because seeing her this defeated kind of hurts.

I get up from my seat, round the table and pull her against my chest, wishing I could do more. For multiple beats, I simply hold her close while she hugs me around the waist as if her life depended on it.

Then she slightly pulls her head back and to my surprise, I look down to see her smiling at me. "Remember the one time we were shopping and you had to call for backup so we could carry the bags? Oh god, you forgot to mention it was nothing serious and they practically stormed the store. Nearly gave the old lady behind the register a heart attack," she says, finishing it off with a soft laugh.

When I catch myself thinking it's the most amazing sound in the world, I know I have a problem. When my chest starts feeling all fuzzy at the sight of her happy expression, I acknowledge I'm in deep shit.

When she raises a daring eyebrow at me, waiting for my reaction, I smile and choose to ignore whatever realization I just had.

"Yeah, I definitely remember," I reply.

Twenty minutes later, we're at Zara.

Three hours later, we're back in my car. This time, we needed no help carrying the bags but that's only due to Giada barely buying anything. She tried on the whole store, don't get me wrong. Multiple ones, actually.

Just not many things were taken to the check-out.

"You should have let me pay! I have my own money," Giada protests on our way home.

"I know that but so do I. Not to brag but I have more than I could ever need so what better way to spend it than on you?" I retort.

"It feels wrong," she insists. "Makes me feel guilty." At that, I shoot her a quick look before returning my attention to the street. I'd love to look at her but given our history, I'd rather not crash the car.

"Don't be ridiculous, Giada. There's no need to feel guilty. I know you're an independent woman but this is not me trying to take that away from you. I'm spoiling you because I want to, not to somehow bind you to me. You better get used to it," I simply say, hoping I'm not coming across as too much.

"Well, what if I want to spoil you?" she asks right back. I can't help it, I turn to smile at her again.

"Hold on tight because this is about to sound horribly cheesy but I don't care. It needs to be said," I warn her.

"Oh-oh," she mutters light-heartedly.

"Tesoro, I feel like the luckiest man whenever you are around, whenever you smile at me or touch me. You spoil me more than enough without even realizing it," I say.

"You're right," she says after a beat of quiet, "that was extremely cheesy." She laughs, making me smile to myself. Then one of the woman's hands is on my thigh and she adds, "And stupidly hot. Now get us home, okay?"

Understandably, my smile drops. Instead, I stare really intently at the street in front of me and envision my car going a thousand times faster, all the while being completely focused on the hand on my leg.

The hand that's slowly trailing higher.

"Giada, we're going to crash if you do this before we're home," I say through gritted teeth. Damn but the atmosphere in this car did a full one-eighty. Going from sweet and light to unbearably charged with sexual tension at one touch.

"Nope, Andrea. We're going to crash if you don't get us home before I do this."

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