B O R I S

XII: Cry onto the Windows

"'He's a hoe, but he's loyal,'" Olyvette turned in the seat of the car. "Is there something I should know?"

We had left the Fassbender home almost an hour after mine and Oly's confession. Needless to say, it wasn't as awkward as I imagined it to be. It went well and Michael didn't treat me any differently. That's what the hell I'm talking about.

I rolled my eyes, letting out a chuckle. "Let's just say I'm around women a lot," I confessed. "Not as much as people make it out to be. I just don't go to big events empty handed."

She nodded and looked ahead then back to me. "So are they models usually? Like what do they look like? You have their phone numbers?"

Was I sensing a hint of jealousy? Was she upset about the amount of women I found myself around? Does she not trust me?

I laughed and shook my head. "My brother has their numbers. Most of the time they're models, sometimes just women I know, friends generally. They come in different heights and hair colors and skin tones. I wouldn't say I have a type. I've not really dated anyone in years."

"Why not?"

I shrugged. "Just.. haven't.." I kept it short. I wasn't ready to explain myself in the car. Not while I was driving at least.

She gave me a raised brow. "Will you ever tell me the truth? I don't like secrets," she sighed.

"Like your father," I cleared my throat and pulled into the parking lot of the Red Ink cafe closest to her parents' home. I parked and got out, running around to open her door. As she got out she looked up at me with a waiting look. "I'll tell you after you tell me a few things about yourself."

I put my arm around her shoulder, hoping to keep her warm. "Things like what?"

"Be patient, be patient," I laughed, walking her inside and to the counter. "What are you getting?"

"The Irish latte," she answered definitely.

I nodded, looking at the choices. "That actually sounds good."

"Actually-" she held her hand up. "Let's do Italian." She grinned up at me and giggled. "You get one too and tell me if it reminds you of home."

This made me laugh hard. "Okay okay," I shook my head and ordered two hot Italian lattes. I didn't even understand what made them Italian. I looked up to see one of the employees take down a half full bottle of syrup with the Italian flag on it. Pathetic.

After I paid, I heard a gasp come from my love. I quickly looked at her, worried as to what had happened. She pointed outside and smiled. "I didn't know it was going to rain today! We're sitting by the window. I don't care."

"Alright, you go sit and I'll bring the drinks over." I kissed her cheek before she could walk away from me. She kissed mine back and sat down by the window, watching the sky fall and cry onto the windows.

She was so passionate. You could tell she loved the world and everyone in it. That made me fall in love with her. Of course she had the beauty and she was a whole lot of woman, but that barely mattered.

Did I even have a strong sexual attraction to Olyvette? Was having sex with her very important to me? No. Sex? No. Making love? Most definitely. But how could I persuade her? I was good at seduction when it came to other women that I just wanted to taste and get a whiff of their inside. But it made me nervous to even imagine intimacy with Olyvette. My sex game is tens all across the board. What was I worried about?

"Here you go, Mr. Esposito," said the young barista, setting our lattes on the counter before me. "By the way, you've done beautifully on our various locations." She winked at me with a big grin.