Page 37 of The Temptation
“I don’t want to fight with you either, but it’s kind of hard not to when you’re acting like astronzoevery chance you get.”
“I’m just?—”
“Trying to push me away. I get it. I’ve come to realise during our time here in this house that you’re hard to get close to because trust isn’t something you share that often.”
“Hmm,” I hum, side-eyeing her, slightly put off by her words despite how accurate they are.
“I’m a lot like you on the inside.”
“Fucked up?” I ask.
“Uh-huh. I may be all sunshine and rainbows on theoutside, but deep inside I’m …” She lets her words trail off, but I can fill in the blanks.
Lucia takes another bite of her sandwich before continuing. “I understand why you are like you are. Pushing people away stops you from getting hurt. I bet at night, when you close your eyes and allow yourself to be vulnerable for a moment, it’s the only time you let yourself wonder what life would be like if you actually let someone in.”
Her words land deeper than I expected, and it catches me off guard. I’ve built my life around keeping people out. Hiding behind that ‘don’t fuck with me’ shield because it was safer that way. But somehow, she sees right through it.
It’s disarming and … unsettling. Or maybe it’s just that she actually notices me, really listens, in a way no one else ever has.
And the truth is I don’t know what to do with that because I’ve never had it before, but instead of admitting that there might be some truth to her summary of me, I find myself saying, “I didn’t come in here to be psychoanalysed by you, Lucia.” I drag my hand down my face as I speak. “And for the record, you couldn’t be any further from the truth.”
With that, she scoots closer, closing the distance I put between us and bumps her shoulder with mine. “It’s okay, Romeo. Being vulnerable sometimes doesn’t make you any less of a man. I still think you’re pretty badass.”
“I’m not fucking vulnerable,” I growl. “I’m feeling stressed, tired, and pissed the fuck off, but definitely not vulnerable.”
“I can relate to that, but I’d have to add frustrated to that list.”
That makes two of us.
“That’s partly the reason we need to have this discussion.If we are going to get out of this unscathed, then we have to set some boundaries.”
“Ugh,” she groans, dropping her half-eaten sandwich back onto the plate. “Let me guess, not grinding on yoursalsiccia grossa(Big thick sausage) is on that list of boundaries?”
I roll my lips because this woman is too much. “Right at the very top, sweetheart.”
This time, she throws her head back and audibly groans. “I hate this list already.” I bark out a laugh. I can’t help it. “What else is on your party-pooping list? No shimmying?”
“You’re allowed to shimmy?—”
“Geez, thanks,” she deadpans, cutting me off.
“Just make sure you’re wearing clothes and I’m not in the room.”
“I was wearing clothes earlier,” she grumbles.
“I know, but I just thought a full disclosure was needed where you’re concerned. I don’t want anything I say to be misconstrued.”
“Like the free pass you gave me before reneging on it.”
I turn my face forward and clear my throat. “Yes, like that. To be fair, though, it was only ever supposed to be a one-time thing.”
One I never should’ve offered in the first place.
I’m no longer looking at her, but I can feel her eyes drilling into the side of my head, silently studying me. “What are you so afraid of?” she asks, her voice quieter than before, but it still cuts through me like a knife.
“I’m not afraid of anyone or anything,” I answer, rising to my feet.
“Where are you going?”
