Page 64 of Kiss Away Your Pain (Wounded Hearts 2)

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Enzo

Flights and hotel room booked, it’s late. My nerves are wired at the thought of possibly seeing my mom tomorrow. I don’t want to be alone. I want to be with Candi.

Together, we put the plates and glasses on the room service cart.

I take her in my arms, looking down into her beautiful brown eyes. “Can I stay?”

“Yes, you can stay.” Stretching up onto her toes, she kisses me.

While she washes up for bed, I wheel the cart out and put it outside her door. With my toothbrush back in my room, I can’t brush my teeth so I lie down in bed and wait for her.

I wasn’t sure she’d forgive me. I’m so thankful she did. And then she rode me like a fucking goddess. I didn’t see that coming. I’d planned to make her come undone the first time we had sex, and every time after that. Her body, the way she moves, the way she fucking feels, all I could do was watch her, feel her, so tight around my dick. Unrelenting passion, capsizing me in slow motion. If I was standing, she would’ve brought me to my knees.

Now she wants to go with me to see my mom. I’m scared shitless. I know the name of the café where she works, but I don’t know if she’ll be there. If she is, I don’t know what to do. Shit, I don’t know what to say. Knowing Candi will be there with me eases me a little.

Our first night together. I’m looking forward to holding her in my arms. Before she comes out of the bathroom, I fall asleep.

I wake before the alarm. Candi’s spooned into me, her body molding perfectly to mine, her long, pink hair falling around her. I listen to her breaths. The faint smell of her sweet honey fills my nose. I want to stay like this forever.

Even after last night and our physical connection, I know I have some earning to do with her. I have to earn back her trust. To prove to her that Idobelieve in her, with every fiber of my being. She holds a pain I can’t even imagine. I want to protect her from pain, not be the cause of it. I have to earn her heart.

As quietly as I can, I get out of bed and put on my clothes. On a piece of hotel notebook paper, I write a note telling her I’ll meet her at the airport. I have to get back to my hotel and pack up my things.

Before heading to the airport, I email the private investigator to see if he’s able to verify that my mom is still working and living in the same place as when he originally found her for me.

Meeting at the gate an hour ahead of our boarding time, we grab a snack.

“Have you thought about what you’ll say to her?”

“I have. A lot actually, through the years. My thoughts always seem to end up scrambled. I know the little kid in me wants to be angry and yell at her. And adult-me knows that sometimes we have to do things in life that hurt other people and we never fully feel the impact of our decisions and actions. I guess, really, I just have questions. Well, one question, why?”

She puts down her chocolate-filled cornetto and places her hand on top of mine. “I think when you see her, the right words will come to you.” With her words, her touch, she weaves herself into my soul.

She always knows how to comfort me.

When we land, we get a taxi to Canaves Oia Suites to check in. With our bags in our room, I check my email.

“Hmm, that guy I hired can’t verify my mom’s location. He said he’d need more time.”

She takes both of my hands in hers and looks up at me, sweet and confident. “Then we take a chance and go find out on our own.”

Cupping her face in my hands, I kiss her full lips, trying to soak in some of her calm.

Nerves rock through me and I blow a loud sigh. “That’s what we came here for, whether I’m ready or not.” I say on an exhale, my words gravelly. “Let’s do it.” Butterflies mix with acid in my stomach.

We head down to the lobby and get into a taxi.

“Ambrosia Café, please.” I hold Candi’s hand tightly on the ten-minute ride.

I try to distract my thoughts by taking in the scenery. A hallmark of this area, loulaki-blue domed roofs top bright white buildings and colorful flowers scale the walls and fill large pots at entrances to storefronts.

The taxi driver pulls up to the café and we get out. Candi holds my hand, despite the fact that it’s wet with sweat. The outdoor cobblestone patio is filled with quaint, mismatched tables and chairs that sit under a canopy of purple jacaranda branches.

Unable to move, I stand staring at the little café. My hand in hers, she stands still by my side.

“I suppose I should go in and see if she’s here. Thatiswhy we came here.” My chest clutches as I struggle for air.

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