Beautiful Mistake

Chapter 17 - Our Demons (Part 1)

Elena's POV

Two days have passed since the night we fell asleep on Angelo's couch. Waking up in his arms gave me a sense of security, a sense of belonging, and serenity. I have never felt such things for anyone, which worried me. What do I do when I need to leave? All the secrets will eventually come to light and one way or another I will be going back home to America, whether by Angelo's choice or my father's. How do I simply continue on with my life like none of this ever happened? Like this man hasn't turned my world inside out?

I rested my forehead against my forearm as I leaned my arms against the shower wall, the steaming hot water falling over me. I could feel my muscles relaxing the longer they had exposure to the heat.

Angelo has been working a lot these past two days. Something came up with his father's business that he needed to sort out and when he was home, he would leave at exactly four in the afternoon every day. He wouldn't tell me where he was going but I could tell this was routine. I then decided to have short coffee dates with Kat in the restaurant downstairs to pass the time.

I turned off the water, stepping out onto the cold tiles while wrapping a towel around my body. I grabbed another and began drying my hair as I walked back into the room. I had just finished dressing in my bra and panties when I heard a clanging coming from downstairs causing me to freeze.

I gazed at the spare phone Angelo had gotten me to keep in contact with him and Kat. It seemed a little early for him to be back which then started stirring an unsettling feeling from within. I quickly grabbed the plush robe and wrapped it around my body, tying a knot in the sash while tiptoeing my way towards the stairs.

I quietly descended into the foyer, moving along it as the noises persisted. Gently peering my gaze into the kitchen, I noticed a flustered Angelo shuffling around the kitchen. He had his jacket and tie hanging over one of the stools, a couple of buttons undone at the top of his shirt, and both his sleeves rolled up his arms. It was quite an attractive sight and I found myself biting down on my lip in response.

His cursing broke my trail of lustful desires as I noticed him rushing to the stove where he began shifting pots and pans around the ceramic cooktop before attempting to turn off the burner plates. I could clearly see onion burning in one pan while the water boiled over from a pot and singed the stovetop, leaving behind a residue that is a mission to clean. 

He tried shifting the pan off the heated plate but began hissing as the hot oil splattered in the air and landed on his hand. He followed this with a long string of Italian profanities.

"What on earth are you doing?" I finally spoke up, stepping over the threshold into the kitchen, his gaze shooting up and meeting my eyes.

"Bella (beautiful)? Um... I was trying to make dinner for you." He mentioned sheepishly causing me to chuckle at his boyish demeanor.

"I thought we established this isn't your favorite room in the house," I commented.

"Well, not for cooking purposes. No." He retorted with a cocky grin upon his lips.

I rolled my eyes in an attempt to disguise the blushing heat I could feel filling my cheeks.

"What were you trying to cook?" I asked him, slowly stepping closer to the stove, peeking into the pan.

"Spaghetti Bolognese."

"Alright. I can make that. Slowly step away from the stove, babe." I teased him with a slight smile which he obliged and took a giant step back, his hands at his sides. His facial expressions portrayed all his unimpressed sentiments towards me.