“Alessandro—”
He kisses me.
It’s brief, fierce, and completely unexpected. His lips are warm and firm against mine, and there’s a desperation to itthat makes my chest ache. And then he’s pulling away, already moving toward the door.
“Lock it behind me,” he says again.
And then he’s gone, thundering down the stairs, leaving me standing in my suddenly-too-quiet apartment with the taste of him on my lips and the sound of chaos on the street below.
I lock the door with shaking hands.
Through the window, even though he told me to stay away from them, I can see smoke billowing up from down the street. There are sirens now, distant but getting closer. People are still running, still screaming.
And Alessandro is heading straight toward it.
I sink onto the couch, my mind racing.
What the hell just happened?
What was that explosion?
And why did Alessandro react like he was expecting it?
My phone buzzes. A text from Mira:Are you okay? I heard an explosion near your shop.
I stare at the message, not sure how to respond. Am I okay? I don’t know. I’m unharmed, but I’m definitely not okay.
Another text comes through, this one from an unknown number:This is Alessandro. I’m sorry. I’ll explain everything when I get back. Stay inside. Please.
Clutching my phone, I’m torn between terror, confusion and something else, something warm and fluttering that has no business existing in a moment like this.
Because despite everything, the explosion, the gun, the way he transformed into someone cold and dangerous in the span of a heartbeat, I’m not afraid of Alessandro.
I’m afraid for him.
And that might be the scariest thing of all.
I text back:Be careful.
The response comes immediately:Always.
I move away from the window and curl up on the couch, pulling a blanket around myself. My coffee has gone cold. The biscotti sits untouched on the plate. My Christmas tree is on its side, ornaments scattered across the floor.
Outside, the sirens are getting louder.
And all I can do is wait for a man I barely know to come back from whatever danger he’s running toward.
A man who kissed me like it might be the last time.
A man who told me to lock the door and stay safe.
A man who, despite all my instincts screaming I should be terrified of, I think I might already be falling for.
I pull the blanket tighter and close my eyes.
Please be okay, Alessandro. Please come back.
Because I have questions.
