There’s some devil on my shoulder that makes me scroll through while he’s out of the room until I find an old-school romantic comedy that is as smutty and cringe as anything I’ve ever watched.
I’m so aware of his every shift as he sits next to me on the sofa, raising his eyebrows at my choice of movie but settling in and offering me a bowl of salt-and-sweet popcorn. Then half an hour into the movie, he rises and comes back with a pizza. I take in the ham, pineapple, and dripping cheese-covered pizza with a grin.
“See, savoury revenge with cheese is delicious,” Brody says deadpan.
“Italians would be horrified with what you did to this poor, innocent pizza.” I laugh, breathing in the heavenly scent of cheese and bread. It’s good to make light of what happened today. I’m alive, after all. I’m eating pizza with my landlord, not sleeping with the fishes. I’m lucky.
“Exactly,” he says with almost too much relish. “You’ll want these, too.”
He passes me a box of Ibuprofen, and I whisper “Thanks” as I push them out of the foil with a satisfying pop.
We stuff our faces with the most enjoyable pizza ever and sit side by side but not touching, watching the movie. It’s oddly intimate.
I’ve only ever locked eyes with this man, and now he’s next to me, passing me food like we’re… friends?
Friends, but I’d like to have him inside of me. Friends, but I want his babies.
The movie is good enough, but not sufficient to block out my thoughts as my cuts begin to ache, despite the painkillers. But it’s amazing how much better I feel. Like, I really could have died today, and when I expected it, all I thought about was the man next to me, who is now wincing at the bad acting on screen.
But still. I could be dead right now.
I grab the remote and mute the television before I can talk myself out of this incredibly stupid impulse.
“What do people think about when they’re about to die?” I blurt out.
Brody turns to me, and blinks. “I don’t know,” he replies mildly. “What did you think about?”
There’s a pause during which I regret all my decisions. Possibly including the whole surviving to begin this conversation.
“That I’ve never been kissed.”And about you. I was thinking about you, and how I wished I’d known you, and that you’d taken my V-card.
“Never?”
I’m conflicted, because I’m revealing that I’m such an incredibly sad case that I’ve not managed to get a boy to kiss me in twenty-two years. I’m cringing. Blushing. But on the other hand, Brody’s gaze just dipped to my lips. And it has stayed there.
And I’m supposed to be bold with this new lease of life. And he said he didn’t want me to leave… So?
“Would you…” I guess I think he’ll fill in the gap, to save me having to say the words. In my dreams he simply knows and kisses me without my having to request anything.
“Would I do what, Caterina?” There’s a hard edge to his question, but I’ve had worse today.
I swallow and look into his steel eyes.
“Kiss me.”
5
BRODY
She slaps her hand over her mouth in horror, as though the words slipped out without her permission.
“Sorry.” Caterina groans with embarrassment. “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just that nearly dying has me thinking of all the things I’ve never done.”
“It’s alright.” I’m so impressed with how brave she’s been today.
I should check if she means that she really wants this. I should ensure I understood her implication correctly, and that I’m not about to scare this sweet creature. But I don’t, because that would mean I might not get to kiss her.
Instead, I reach across and cup her chin, feeling how small and fragile she is. I watch her eyes—like melted chocolate—as I lean in, crowding her. Stroking her face, I move my hand so my fingers comb through the hair at her nape and my thumb brushes her cheek.
