Page 17 of Nine Years Gone

The aroma of the coffee brewing hits my nose. I turn the stove off, grab a spoon to stir it, and pour some in each of our cups, handing Luci hers before sitting.

“Follow your gut; it never steers you wrong. You’ll be fine. You already learned that mistake the hard way, so I know this time you won’t ignore it.”

“Seriously. Had I followed my gut instinct, I would’ve broken up with Stefano long before things ended the way they did.”

“Let’s not ruin a great morning, enough about that jerk. Are you still doing laundry today?” she asks.

“Ugh, yeah. If I don’t, I won’t have clothes for work this weekend. When I’m done drinking coffee, I’ll go change, and we can head out. After we get everything into the washer, we can have lunch next door while we wait.”

“Hi, beautiful.” Massimo answers my call on the second ring.

Luci and I did laundry and had lunch. After putting my clothes away, I showered and got dressed, then called my parents and one of my sisters to chitchat. I didn’t want to call him too early and sound eager, but it was torture waiting for time to pass.

“Hi. Whatcha doing?” I ask in a breathy voice.

“Just got in from visiting my parents. I haven’t seen them since Sunday, and my mother gets worried if she hasn’t seen one of us for more than two days. Old school, ya know?”

“You have a good relationship with her?”

“Very good. I either see her or talk to her every day. She gives great advice and always knows what I need. Usually before I do.”

“That’s awesome.”

“It is, especially since I don’t have one with my father.” His candidness surprises me, considering we’ve only been on one date.

“I’m sorry. It’s never easy when relationships with parents are strained.”

“It’s fine. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about my father. Are you still coming over?”Wow, that change of tone was like night and day.

“I am. What should I bring? A bottle of wine?”

“Just bring all your sexiness. I got everything else covered.”

“I think I can handle that. I’ll leave now.”

“When you get here, pull into the lot and give the guard my unit number. He’ll direct you to the visitors’ spots.”

When I exit the elevator and turn toward Massimo’s unit, he’s in the hall waiting for me. He’s barefoot, jeans hanging low and a T-shirt that’s too short for him, giving me a peek at the skin between the top of his jeans and the hem of his shirt. His hair is unruly and sticking up in all directions. As soon as I get close to him, he kisses me.

At first, his kisses are soft, his lips caressing mine. But then his tongue penetrates my mouth and swirls over and around fervently, his hands grasping onto me with possessiveness.

I pull away and look around, afraid that one of his neighbors may interrupt us. “Hi,” I say. My fingers linger on my lips, my breathing heavy.

“I missed you,” he confesses.

“I see that,” I respond, biting my lower lip while smirking.

“Come inside.” He holds the door open for me, and I step in, slipping my booties off and placing them on the mat to my left.

When I enter the living area, I see the table set. There is a bottle of red wine in the middle of it next to a vase of red roses in full bloom, the cupped petals perfectly symmetrical. I place my pockabook onto the end table, opening it in search of a cloth to wipe my glasses. Once they’re clean, I drop it back in my bag.

“Everything looks nice, and these flowers are gorgeous.”

“For you.”

“Thank you, that was sweet. Want me to pour us some wine?”

“That would be good. Then I can call the restaurant to order. One of my guys will bring it to us.”

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