Page 14 of Bingeworthy
He leans forward, not taking his big hand off my foot. “Say what you need to say, Tiffany.”
I blurt it all out at once. “Everyone can see that I like you, and everyone has an opinion about everyone I’ve ever dated. I want to decide something on my own.”
The hand on my foot gently creeps up my shin, pushing past the hem of my jeans.
Rocco’s voice drops to a low growl, with deadly severe intensity. “From this day forward, I don’t want to hear aboutanyone else you’ve dated. And I don’t give a fuck about anyone’s opinions.”
I’m too taken aback for words. In the empty space, he continues, “And most of all, I don’t want you thinking it was your parents who pushed me to spend time with you.”
My nipples react to the hard look in Rocco’s eyes.
I don’t dare tear my gaze away from his.
“Rocco…” I start, but I don’t think I can breathe. “Why did you offer to pick me up?”
His grip on my leg softens, and his hand is now at the curve at the back of my knee. His thumb lightly strokes the bare skin inside my knee, back and forth, making me quiver. Making me wet.
“Because I detest that drive. But the thought of spending those two hours with you changed everything.”
“How?”
His chest rises and falls more rapidly than a moment ago. “It made me realize I had wasted enough time. Just being with you, sitting next to you, listening to you talk, is everything. And this has been the best holiday of my whole fucking life.”
The lump in my throat is a dry ache.
“You were always invited,” I remind him.
“No,” he says. A cold breeze blows my hair in my eyes. My breath catches as his fingers brush it away. “I couldn’t stand myself after what could have happened to you on that awful night. I didn’t deserve to be around you.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Rocco.”
“I thought you hated me. You never cashed the check.”
I shake my head, recalling that night I watched him from my window as he stood on my parents’ porch. He had looked so shaken.
I’m scared to ask the question, but it must be asked. It’s something I’ve always wondered about. “Rocco, why would you try to pay me off?”
“Pay you off? Is that what you thought the check was about?”
It doesn’t matter now, I think. What’s past is past. “If I’d been asked to give a deposition about the events of that night, I would have told the truth either way.”
Rocco leans back, his hand on my leg scraping back down over my shin.
He looks surprised. “I wasn’t trying to pay you off. I felt partially responsible that your big night was ruined and I…didn’t know what else to do.”
So he wasn’t trying to silence me. He was trying to make things right. I let that sink in. I’m sad that he felt so ashamed, but also moved by the kind gesture.
Giving him a wry smile, I explain, “As nice as that was, I still could never accept that.”
“I know.”
“And this misunderstanding could have been resolved years ago if you had come around more often.”
Rocco shakes his head, and his eyes bore into me. “On top of everything else, I couldn’t watch you with them. Other guys. It hurt too much.”
“You must be exaggerating.” My voice quakes.
“You’re really going to make me spell it out? It hurt because I wanted you, Tiffany. And I was waiting for my moment.”
