No Strings Attached

Chapter Twelve

Giovanni eyes me curiously the longer I stand and stare at him.

I force myself to speak. "Hi. Come in."

He looks back towards the staircase but eventually does walk forward, chuckling. "Fun night, I see."

I shut the door, detecting something other than curiosity in his tone. "He's my best friend."

"I'm not judging."

"He's gay."

His eyes, dark and telling, flicker to mine, and yet, he doesn't say anything.

"We work together." I cross my arms, suddenly aware of what he's doing. "Not that it's any of your business."

"You're right. It's not," he replies, turning, his curious eyes exploring my cluttered apartment. It's a strange sight. Famous designer Giovanni Martinelli in my apartment.

"So, want to tell me what you're doing here?"

"I came to pick up some custom material last minute for the show... hadn't expected to be in town. I figured I'd stop by to see if you needed help getting dressed for work."

He smirks, his eyes mockingly bright. I smile with him as much as my heart protests. After everything last night, I'm nervous about sleeping with Giovanni. I've gotten so good at forgetting my ex-husband, but today, he's fresh on my mind, tearing apart any sense of reparation I've accomplished in the last six months.

I don't want Giovanni to see this side of me... the vulnerable side.

"Have I made a mistake?" I realize I've begun staring at my beige lampshade instead of him. His features are marked with hesitance. "Coming here unannounced?"

I blink, shaking my head. "No, I'm glad you're here."

He steps closer. "But?"

"I just had a difficult day yesterday... a difficult night."

"I am sorry for that, really."

I hold up my hands, shaking my head. "It had nothing to do with you. It was me."

"Well, tell me what happened. Maybe I can help?"

I smile, awkwardly touched by his offer. "I'd rather not."

"Why?"

"Because that's not what we agreed this would be."

"We can be friends, Scarlett. There is nothing against that."

"Becoming friends blurs a lot of lines, lines I really don't want blurred."

He walks closer to me, tucking his hands into his pockets. As he stops before me, my head is forced to be tilted up to him. I'm distracted by his beauty.

"In most cases, yes, lines would be blurred. But you know what you want. I know what I want. It's the same thing."

Why is my heart racing?

"I'm a mess, Giovanni. Trust me, you don't want to see this part of me."

"Why don't you let me decide what I want to see, Scarlett."

Defensively, I cross my arms over my robe, backing into the corner of the couch. He shakes his head slowly, a hint of a smile creeping across his full lips.

"It's beyond me how you can be so forthcoming one moment and completely introverted the next."

I chuckle. "Yeah, I wonder that too sometimes."

Silence follows in his desire to encourage openness. I struggle to find a way into it. When I see how late it is becoming, I have an idea.

"Come back here with me." I beckon him to follow me. "I still have to get ready."