I go to the kitchen, wet the towel with warm water, wring it out, and then return. She’s exactly where I left her—hair mussed, lips swollen, eyes hazy.
I reach between her thighs and wipe her clean. The towel drops to the floor. I lift her again, and she lets out a soft, surprised little sound, her arms looping around my neck.
I carry her to the bed, lay her down, pull the covers back, and tuck her in. When I slide in beside her, she immediately molds against me—her back to my chest, her legs tangled with mine.
I wrap myself around her. Tight.
“Enzo?” she murmurs in the dark.
“Yeah?”
“You’re… heavy.”
I loosen my hold instantly. “Sorry. Am I hurting you?”
She shifts, turning to face me. Her eyes meet mine.
“No. Just… a lot.”
“Too much?”
She thinks, then shakes her head. “No. Just new.”
My lips brush her ear. “Tomorrow’s Saturday.”
“Mhm.”
“And Sunday,” I add. “The whole weekend.”
She hums, already drifting.
“I’m clearing everything,” I tell her. “Work. Calls. Meetings. The weekend is yours. Hell—my whole life is yours. We’ll do whatever you want.”
She tries not to smile. Fails a little.
“Anything?”
“Anything,” I promise. “That old bookstore you love. The coast. A plane. Tell me where.”
“We’ll see.”
It’s not a yes.
But it’s not a no.
It’s a chance.
“Okay,” I whisper—knowing damn well I’m not giving her another reason not to trust me.
I hold her while she falls asleep. I keep holding her long after.
I’m not the dangerous man who kept everyone at arm’s length. I’m something worse. A man who finally has something to lose. And I’ll burn the world to ash before I let anyone take her from me.
Chapter Nineteen
Mila
I’m starting to trust Enzo.
