It’s clear she doesn’t want to dwell on Leo, and I can’t blame her. “Yes, and I’ll bake something for his birthday… maybe.” I shrug, still feeling a little awkward about forgetting.
Teresa grins. “He’ll love that.”
Will he even join me here in the library after last night? I’m overthinking it. I know that, but now I feel silly for making him muffins late last night and leaving them like some kind of peace offering.
I push myself up from the couch and decide to go to the kitchen, thinking I’ll just remove the muffins and pretend it never happened. But when I get there, they’re gone. My heart skips a beat, and my cheeks flush. Did he see them? Did he eat one?
Then, I notice the soft glow of light coming from under the door to his office. He’s back. He’s been back. My heart thuds in my chest, and before I can talk myself out of it, I decide to go to him.
Taking a deep breath, I walk down the hallway toward the door, my fingers trembling as I raise my hand to knock.
But I hesitate. What am I even going to say?Happy birthday? Sorry I ran out on you?The words jumble in my mind, my hand hovering just inches from the door. I take a deep breath, forcing myself to knock softly.
"Come in."
When I step inside, I find Rafaele sitting behind his desk, his laptop open, the plate that once held the muffins now empty except for the crumpled paper wrapper. His eyes widen slightly in surprise as he looks up at me.
"Nora," he glances at his watch, "is everything alright?"
You tell me, I think, but instead, I nod. "Yes… I just—" I clear my throat, feeling ridiculous. "You were gone for a while. I wanted to make sure you were okay."
His expression shifts, softening, a look I’m beginning to realize he reserves only for me. "Leo and his antics." He sighs, leaning back in his chair. "Took longer to handle than I anticipated."
"Can I help?" The question slips out before I can stop myself. It’s a silly question—I have no idea how I could help.
But he gives me a small, half smile. "You already do."
I tilt my head, my heart racing at his words. His dark eyes, which usually remind me of cold coal, seem warmer today, like rich, melted chocolate. "How?"
He gestures toward the empty plate. "Thanks for the birthday muffin. As you can see, I devoured it."
A grin spreads across my face, warmth blooming in my chest. He’s never been shy about complimenting me, and yet it always feels unexpected.
"You're welcome. I actually created it for you. I call itMidnight Delightbecause I noticed you have a sweet tooth late at night. Whenever I get up for water or something, I see pieces of cake missing. So, I thought mixing dark chocolate with espresso—since I know you love both—andadding raspberry would create something rich, with depth but also a hint of complexity… something that reminds me of you." I stop, realizing I’m rambling, and feel heat rise in my cheeks. "Anyway… now that I see you’re home safe, I’ll leave you to your work."
His smile widens, his eyes twinkling in that way that always throws me off balance. "Were you worried about me?"
"I…" I hesitate. The truth is probably written all over my face. Why lie? "Maybe a little."
"Maybe a little," he repeats, his voice soft as he nods, his gaze on me a moment longer than usual.
“Well, now that I see you’re fine, I’ll just—” I start to say, ready to make my escape, but his gentle voice stops me.
“What happened last night, Nora?” he asks, closing the laptop in front of him and focusing all his attention on me.
I can’t pretend I don’t know what he’s talking about. I knew it would come up eventually.
“If I misinterpreted what you wanted?—”
“No,” I interrupt quickly. Of all the things I don’t want, it’s for him to feel guilty. “No, I wanted it. Truly. There’s nothing you did last night that I didn’t want, I swear.”
“So what is it?” His voice is calm, but his eyes search mine.
I take a deep breath. “I… I was overwhelmed. I’ve never felt anything like that. It was the most intense, pleasurable moment of my life. I saw stars and the—” I stop, noticing the curve of his lips. “Are you actually grinning?”
He leans back slightly, a full-on, boyish grin spreading across his face. “How could I not? I gave my wife incredible pleasure—of course I’m proud.”
I flush at his words, but I can’t help the warmth that spreads through me at his confidence. “It’s just… all of this is so new to me. I didn’t know how to handle it.” The unspoken words remain between us. I’m scared, terrified, of how much I’m beginning tocare for him. Because if I let myself fall, I know he could break me, maybe not intentionally, but he would.