Page 95 of Massimo

And they were filled with an innocence and joy you almost never saw except in the eyes of children.

It made me like her so much more. I began to feel something like affection for her –

And then she had to go and ruin it.

“So… how big is it?” she asked with a smirk.

We were inside a restaurant in Padola. It was a tiny place with wood paneling on the walls and exposed beams in the A-shaped ceiling. The décor was far more Swiss than Italian. In the winters, the town turned into a ski resort – a very small ski resort, but a ski resort nonetheless – and there were lots of pictures on the walls of the Dolomites covered in snow.

A few locals were in the restaurant, but since I was dressed like a lumberjack, they didn’t give me a second look other than to take in my size. They were a lot more curious about Lucia, what with her red leather jacket and silk blouse.

At least she wasn’t cranky and glaring back at people like she had at dinner the night before.

No, she was just trying to make me uncomfortable.

“Seriously, how big is it?”

I cut into my eggs and took a bite. “We’re not talking about this.”

“Obviously we are. Is it eight inches? Nine?”

I glared at her. “Could you just let me eat in peace?”

“Sure, once you tell me. Is it ten?”

I ignored her and sipped my coffee.

“Come onnnn… just tell me how big it is.”

“A lot bigger than you can handle.”

She reared back her head and gave me a crafty smile. “Ooooooh… challenge accepted!”

“We are not sleeping together.”

“Technically, we ARE sleeping together. Just not fucking.”

“Well, we’re not doing that.”

She tilted her head to the side and asked with fake wide-eyed innocence, “Why not?”

“Because your grandmother would kill me. And you know that,” I scowled. “Which is why you’re acting like this.”

“I don’t want her to kill you. We don’t have to tell her.”

“You don’t even like me.”

She shrugged. “I’ve fucked lots of guys I haven’t liked.”

“Well, I don’t like you.”

She gave me the kind of smile I’d bet the mongoose gives the cobra. “I’m okay with that.”

“I’m not.”

“Ohhhh, are you saving yourself for marriage?” she asked with a sympathetic, understanding nod. “Are you a good Catholic boy? Are you gay? It’s totally fine if you are – ”

“I’m not gay,” I said, narrowing my eyes at her.

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