Page 54 of These Thin Lines

“And then you do something like this, be it voice an idea, or lick your lips or anything really, that would engage not just my mind or my heart. But parts of me that I pledged to my wife, parts of me that had been asleep for years. And can you fault me when you are always so absolutely alluring?”

Chiara suddenly surged forward and replaced her thumb with her mouth, as if trying to reassure Vi that what had been happening in the past half hour was real.

Thiswashappening. And how could she find Vi’s steady affection so unbelievable, when Vi was so in love it hurt her chest, because there was simply not enough space in there, between her ribs, to contain all this love, all this devotion?

But Chiara’s mouth was real, and whatever it hadn’t said out loud, it was doing an amazing job of conveying with gentle caresses and careful little nips to Vi’s lower lip. It was glorious. It was magnificent. It was better than their kiss on the roof—

Remembering how that had ended, however, made Vi’s mind and her body screech to a halt. She raised her hand, but Chiara had already sensed her hesitation and stopped immediately. A part of Vi wanted to cry all over again.

Instead, she took a deep breath. “On the roof… You said you were sorry.” Vi shook her head, her voice quiet. “It made me so unsure. So afraid.”

“Darling, of what?” Chiara’s brow was furrowed in concern, her eyes searching.

“That you might break me.” The words surged from her in a hoarse whisper, and Vi knew she’d spoken nothing but the truth, even if she had never voiced it before, not even to the emptiness of her dark room.

“Oh Vi. I would never. If you believe one thing tonight, let this be it. I was sorry that I kissed you without your permission, without asking for consent.” Chiara seemed to struggle for words before soldiering on.

“I am older, certainly I should be wiser… My marriage has been a sinkhole for a while, and despite me trying my best to ignore it, to not disappoint, to be worthy of her, I felt my unhappiness slowly choking me.”

Vi wanted to interrupt, to scream and rage at Frankie, at the world that made this miracle of a woman feel unworthy. But Chiara had that look in her eyes, the look of trying to get all the words out before something stopped her, so instead, Vi tucked a stray flyaway behind her ear and nodded for her to continue.

“I was worried that I was using you and you were going along with it. I wanted to stop and ask you.” Chiara’s hands shook slightly, and she made a move to reach for Vi, but seemed to reconsider at the last moment, gripping the counter, her knuckles white.

Vi’s shoulders sagged under the sheer relief. Chiara did not regret anything. Chiara had wanted to kiss her. Chiara wanted her, period. She grinned, even as Chiara’s uncertainty turned into exasperation at the sight of her smile, so clear now on her face, eyes wide, brows raised, the wide mouth set in an adorable pout.

“But I didn’t know—”

“Well, if only you’d have stopped your self-righteous, woe-is-me march off the roof and listened to me, maybe you would have!” Chiara threw her hands up, then whispered conspiratorially. “It’s okay though.”

Her expression had all the subtlety of a cat that had eaten a whole bowl of cream. And would probably go back for more any second. Vi trembled for all the right reasons now, and her stomach tightened.

“Is it?” Her voice was quiet even to her own ears, and she bit her lip to hold herself back from blurting out, ‘let me get down on my knees in front of you, right here at the breakfast bar.’

When she raised her eyes, Chiara’s were knowing, seeing.

“Yes, darling. It showed me that perhaps I was worried for nothing, and that you wanted me as much as I wanted you. But before this goes any further, this time, I’d like you to use your words and tell me. One ‘no’ from you and I will leave.”

Chiara spoke calmly, matter-of-factly almost, but her voice broke a bit at the end of the sentence.

“I will always be grateful for this summer. For you giving me the strength to survive the worst day of my life. And I will always, no matter what happens, cherish you. So if you say ‘no,’ I’ll understand and go. Or you can say ‘yes’…”

Chiara stopped, and now it was her turn to bite her lip. Vi shivered at the sensuality of the gesture. Chiara slowly let go of the now plump, red lip and smirked. Vi felt her own smile widen.

“And what happens if I say ‘yes?’”

“Whatever it was you were thinking a second ago, whatever had your eyes go dark, hungry… All of that happens. But you have to be sure, darling. I have so much baggage, and I’m in so much trouble, all sorts of trouble, and not just over you—”

It was Vi’s turn to press her fingertips to Chiara’s lips, and the sensation of that inviting, willing mouth under her skin—despite having kissed it only minutes ago—was addictive. She never wanted to stop touching it, caressing it.

“I know you’re trouble, and I know you’re troubled. I don’t care. I want you.” She leaned in, and Chiara actually moaned into her mouth. With that, Vi suddenly remembered that one tiny circumstance that wasn’t actually tiny at all.

“Except… Well…”

“What is it, darling?” And the concern, the honesty in those eyes, nearly undid Vi. She lowered her face and mumbled.

Chiara’s sigh was teasingly exasperated.

“Darling, you will have to speak up. Communication is key here.”

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