Page 73 of Enzo DeLuca

Chapter Seventeen

Enzo

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Eve stared at him.

Enzo stared back at her, still not understanding where the conversation was going.

“The reason I ask,” she started. “Is because in this book I’m reading, the couple breaks up over petty shit that could’ve been solved if they’d communicated better. The guy in the story doesn’t know anything about his woman. I mean nothing. If he did, the breakup never would’ve occurred.”

Enzo remained silent. He couldn’t risk saying the wrong thing. His first thought had been to say; men can’t read women’s minds. If you wanted a man to know something, just tell him. However, he’d been around Eve long enough to know he needed to invest in some mind-reading classes because she expected him to know what she wanted even when she didn’t know what she wanted.

“Now that I think about it,” she said, staring down at the book. “I’m not sure that bastard is the right one for her. She should’ve chosen the second male lead. The first one doesn’t like her enough to care about what she wants.”

"I more than like you," he rushed to say, hoping that would keep her from turning her anger for the bad hero in his direction.

Her expression was serious when she faced him. "That’s sweet. But, you don't know me. Kind of how the hero in the book doesn’t know the heroine."

Here we go!If he could kill fictional characters, he would. This dude wasn’t real, yet he was causing chaos in Enzo’s relationship. Once she was done with that book, he would burn it. Or hide it, because if she found out he’d burned it, that would cause more problems.

"I like what I do know about you,” Enzo told her. “And I'm ready to know more."

A sneaky grin spread across her face as she motioned for him to join her on the bed.

"Let's play a game,” she suggested.

That wasn’t the reaction he’d expected. But he was happy with it.

Enzo stood and asked, "Do I need to get the whipped cream?"

"No, silly. This isn't like the sex game we played last week. Though, I am down for another one of those. This is a game to help us get to know each other better. It's called twenty-one questions. We start with silly questions and then move on to more serious ones. Tonight, I'll ask you a few silly questions, and you'll ask me a few. Got it?"

Enzo nodded and joined her on the bed.

"Only silly questions for now," she reiterated. "Nothing serious."

"I got it. Which one of us goes first?"

"You can."

Sprawled across the bed, lying flat on his back, Enzo stared up at the ceiling as he tried to think of something silly. He wanted to know her real name. He also wanted to know why she was using a fake one. That conversation wasn't proper for a game like this. What silly question could he ask her?

"If you're thinking about it this hard, then it must not be a silly question. Oh, and whatever you ask me, you also have to answer."

Enzo faced her. "What kind of ice cream do you like?"

"Chocolate," was her quick response. "What kind do you like?"

"Chocolate with strawberry."

"You mean the Neapolitan ice cream? The one with the chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla?"

"No. Just chocolate and strawberry. I like it because it reminds me of you,” he confessed.

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