Page 41 of Twisted Promise

It was already slow enough with her riding it. Alessio’s weight made it worse. And the culprit snuggled his face into her back, forcing her to bend forward a little even though she didn’t want to.

Then he wrapped his arms tighter around her waist, and one unbalanced inch backward would take her and the moped with him.

She prayed he was lucid enough to spare her the German suplex move.

What should have been twenty minutes turned into a grueling forty minutes.

They got sick the next morning from the harsh wind.

She remembered his car and asked him where it was with the heat pad working overtime underneath her aching body.

He said it had a flat tire and left it at the gala building. It never occurred to him to call a tow truck or even ask any of the guests, his parents even, for help.

She decided to be mad at him for the next thirty minutes.

* * *

If Anya was asked again how she knew she was in love. She’d tell them that her love language was actions.

She overcame the fear of driving and got her license.

She loved him immensely, but she didn’t want to get sick together again. He was annoying when he was ill—clingy and unreasonable—so she had spent most of the time in bed and was forced to snuggle with a man who had the sun under his skin.

“Here,” Alessio said as he handed her a cup of mixed soft drink.

The fire popped, and laughter surrounded her. Meryl and her husband had seemingly made up after their explosive fight.

Anya was content with where Alessio and her were now.

Acidic sweetness rolled down her throat as she drank from the cup. She pondered the taste dizzily, somewhat fruity and definitely alcoholic. She had a low tolerance for alcohol.

A small “oops” from Meryl came along with the wave of tutting around the fire.

“I would never take advantage of a drunk,” Cosmo stated keenly, chewing big bites of cheesy habanero skewers. “Are we still in the rejection aisle, or can we move to the congratulatory checkout lane?”

Anya squinted at his blurry features, either from the drink or the smoke. Her head bobbed and dropped onto Alessio’s arm, her brain rusting and creaking as a dozy look appeared on her face.

Despite being out of it, she nodded as firmly as her woozy head allowed.

“Yes.” Alessio followed her lead with a double confirmation. “We are together.”

Their clapping split her temple in two. She held his hand for support, a guide away from the noise, and he intertwined their fingers as he loved doing in the past.

Anya doesn’t think much about it, just using him as a hand warmer.

“Congrats to this old couple,” Cosmo teased.

His other two partners joined in the joke that vaguely registered in her mind.

“Wow, that took me by surprise! Didn’t see that coming.”

“They were so secretive.”

Anya scrunched her nose. Their words felt sharp in her ears, but she let it slide silently and enjoyed the night with a clear heart.

“I expect she gets nothing less than princess treatment.” Meryl’s threat sounded hollow, but maybe that was just her ringing ears.

“Keep your advice to yourself,” Alessio retorted curtly.