No Strings Attached

Chapter Twenty-Six

I shut the door to my apartment with a gentle push, my eyes fixated on my hands which are still trembling.

I love him.

I love Giovanni.

I turn back with an undeniable hesitance, watching Giovanni set down his bags on the table. I remove my scarf with a nervous gulp, unsure of what to say next.

I watch him remove the beanie on his head and snow scatters off him onto the ground. His hair is full of shiny waves that don't even look like they've been constricted beneath a hat for hours. As I remove my coat, he does too, revealing a dark knitted sweater and jeans. I feel my heart jump in my chest... literally jump. I press my hand to it, breathing in.

"Would you like a drink? I could make some coffee or some tea?" I walk towards the kitchen, needing to move. "Um, hot chocolate?"

"Coffee would be great. I can't feel my fucking fingers."

Even my laugh sounds strange. "You Californians, your blood is thin from all that good weather."

"I'm totally alright with that."

After filling the espresso maker with water, I grab my container of Cuban coffee.

"You like Cuban coffee?" Why are you making small talk, Scarlett? You sound ridiculous. This guy literally just got done wiping your damn tears.

"You can't go wrong with the Cuban stuff," he replies. I glance to my side as he appears there, turning so his back is against the counter. We're nearly touching.

"You know, I have plans for you today," he says matter-of-factly, which makes me glance at him in surprise.

"Oh, do you?"

"Yes."

"And what are these so-called plans?"

He straightens, shifting. My smile widens deliriously when his arms cage me in, resting over my own on the countertop. He kisses my neck.

"First, we'll drink this coffee. Second, you'll accompany me to the bedroom, where we will spend an immense amount of time. When you've worn me out—"

"Have I ever managed to wear you out?" I question, eying him dubiously, my cheeks warming happily.

"There's a first time for everything," he replies, laughing when I do.

The smell of the coffee is strong and mouthwatering. So are his words.

"Okay. And what after that?"

"After that, we will get dressed and we will go somewhere."

"Somewhere?"

"Yes. Private, of course. And after that, we'll return here and eat the food in that bag on the table. I'll give you the present I have for you that's in my other bag."

I turn around and reach up, running my hands through his hair. His smile is small, his eyes intent.

"And then?" My voice is soft, fragile.

"Whatever you want," he replies, caressing my cheek lightly with the pad of his thumb. I know what I want. He knows what I want.

"We could even get in some of those traditions you were telling me about if you want. Put on a movie, pajamas, hot chocolate."

The way he's looking at me. Fuck. I have to look away.

"I don't... I have never done any of those things. I normally don't do anything today."