Tonight was not the night to quit.
“Pack of Marlboro,” I said to the cashier.
When he rang me up, I reached into my pocket for my wallet to find that it wasn’t there. Patting my clothing down, I soon figured out that I’d left my wallet at home.
Shit!
I’d been so preoccupied with my wardrobe like a pussy, I forgot the most important thing.
Leaning against the counter, I let out a long breath and slid the cigarettes back toward the man.
“Sorry, dude. Forgot my wallet.”
Gia must have sensed the pissed look on my face when I returned to the car.
“What’s wrong?”
Cranking the ignition, I sighed. “We have to go back. I left my wallet at home. We’ll just stop by my place, and I’ll run in and get it.”
She placed her hand on my thigh, and it made my dick stir. “Don’t be silly. I can pay for dinner.”
There was no freaking way I was going to let Gia do that, even if I paid her back. I couldn’t imagine anything more humiliating than watching her open her wallet tonight and pay the tab.
“Nah. I’ll head back.”
The entire ride to my house, I was bracing myself for her reaction when we pulled into my driveway.
She’d never seen where I lived.
As we finally approached—as predicted—her eyes bugged out of her head when she got a load of my digs.
“Oh my God. This is your house? It’s amazing.”
Even though I didn’t blow money like my father and brother, with the riches I’d inherited, the one thing I’d afforded myself was a damn nice place of residence.
Two levels, all glass windows on the exterior, and overlooking the ocean, it was definitely a sweet property. There was no denying that. It was on a small private area of beach, secluded—just the way I liked it.
I was just about to run in when Gia asked, “Do you mind if I go in with you? I’d love to see the inside.”
It shouldn’t have surprised me that she wanted to see the house. Technically, I should’ve been a gentleman and invited her in. I just didn’t trust myself alone with her. But what was I supposed to do now, make her stay in the car after she’d asked to see it?
“Yeah. Sure.”
Once inside, Gia looked around, soaking in my modern but minimalist style. Most of my furniture was black or gray. The walls of the main space were white and covered in my mother’s paintings. I’d specifically asked her to paint different variations of the moon over the ocean at night.
Gia was soaking it all in. “Rush…this place. It’s…”
“Thank you.”
It didn’t take her long to notice the artwork. She walked straight over to the portrait of the fullest moon. “Did your mother do these?”
I trailed behind her. “Yes.”
“They’re amazing,” she said brushing her finger gently over the canvas. “Do you have an obsession with the moon?”
“You could say I like the moon, yeah. He’s always there for me and has a little bit of a dark side, like I do, I suppose. I asked my mother to paint different interpretations of the moon over the water at night.”
I could tell the wheels were turning in Gia’s head, like she was trying to figure out the meaning behind why I loved the moon, maybe trying to find some correlation between it and my yearning for dependability or love or some shit.
“Well, I definitely think the moon suits you over the sun.”
I cocked a brow. “Because I’m a lunatic?”
She laughed. “Well, yeah, but also just the dark, mysterious vibe.”
Gia just kept wandering around the house, oblivious to my itch to leave. “Do you mind if I check out the second level?”
I wasn’t going to be able to get out of this, but a part of me was starting to want to show her more as I became used to having her inside my home. Instead of answering, I nudged my head and led her to follow me up the stairs.
She waltzed through my bedroom and burst open the doors that led to the upper deck.
The last of the sun was going down over the breezy ocean. Gia just stood there soaking in the evening air and the scenery. She looked exquisite with her hair blowing around as she gazed out at the water.
We were both quiet for a long while, listening to the seagulls before she finally spoke.
“If I lived here, I’m pretty sure I would never leave.”
An image of Gia in shackles, tied to my bed, unable to leave, flashed through my brain.
Can’t help your thoughts, right?
When she turned to me, for some reason, I got the urge to say, “You’re really pretty. You know that?”
Where did that come from?
“I bet you say that to all the girls you bring up to this balcony.”
I rarely brought women home if I could help it. Typically, I’d go to their place. On the rare occasions that I couldn’t avoid it, I never took them up to my private bedroom, which led to this balcony. I’d use the first-floor guest bedroom to “entertain.”
“You’re the first girl who’s ever stood on it.”
Her forehead wrinkled. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. I’m a private guy. I’ve never brought a woman up here before. This…the upstairs…is like my sanctuary.”
“How come you let me up here, then?”
“Fuck if I know. I guess…I trust you…or something.”
Her brow lifted. “Or something?”
“Something I don’t even understand. I lose my mind around you. From the second I met you, you set something off in me that I haven’t been able to contain.”
“So, don’t…contain it.”
I inched closer to her, placing a piece of hair behind her ear. “It’s like I want to protect you and corrupt you at the same time. It’s fucked-up.”
“It’s not fucked-up. It’s sweet.”
“You wouldn’t think it was sweet if you knew what was going on in my head right now.”
“I think I have a vague idea.”
Wanting to kiss her so badly, I held back, instead looking down at my phone. “We should get going…”
“Did you have a dinner reservation?”
“Yeah. We missed it.”
She looked hesitant to say, “Do you mind if we hang out here instead of going there? I’m not really in the mood to go to a restaurant. I feel like I spend half my life in one. I would love to just sit out on this deck with a glass of wine. Maybe get some takeout?”
That sounded like exactly what I’d want to do if I weren’t so damn scared to be alone with her.
When I didn’t answer, she said, “It’s okay if you’d prefer not to.”
“No. It’s fine,” I spit out. “We can stay here.”
My night just got a whole lot more challenging.
Rush had ordered Italian from a restaurant called Margarita’s that was down the road from him.
We’d had some wine with our eggplant parmesan and shrimp scampi. He seemed a lot more relaxed than he had been earlier.
There was a kickass patio set up on the upper deck. We were both lying out on two separate outdoor chaise lounges. He was sipping his wine and smoking as his hair blew around in the night breeze. It was dark out now, making the flicker of his cigarette ash more prominent.
He’d kept a good two feet away from me all night. But I couldn’t help wishing he would move closer as the memory of our kiss from yesterday consumed my thoughts. I’d never been kissed so forcefully, so passionately. I could only imagine how he was in bed.
Over dinner, we’d talked about a lot of things, including our childhoods and a little about his various businesses. We’d managed to cover the gamut—well, besides the subject of what exactly was happening between us.
Now, we were just staring out at the ocean again.
“I feel so calm here. It’s just so peaceful,” I said.
“I’ve never shared this view with anyone.”
“I still can’t believe that.”
He put out his cigarette before reaching out his hand to me. “I like having you here. A lot.”
I squeezed it, noticing a look of worry on his face. “You look like that troubles you a little. What’s wrong with liking that?