* * *
At just before six, my doorbell rang and I checked my camera to see Katie standing on my stoop. I rushed to my door and pulled it open, and she smiled wide. “You look so cute.”
“Thank you. Is this okay?”
“It’s perfect. Gio’s going to lose his mind.”
I laughed. “Exactly what I was going for. Come in. I’ll just grab my purse.”
She stepped inside and closed the door. “Word ofwarning...”
“Uh-oh, that doesn’t sound good.”
She grinned even wider, if that was possible. “He’s being il grumpo el dente right now.”
“Grumpo el dente?”
“Yes. He’s brought me to my boiling point, and I’m perfectly done with his shit.”
I laughed. “What did he do?”
“He’s pissed at me because I wouldn’t let him come up.”
I rolled my eyes. “He can’t navigate stairs right now.”
“I know.” She threw her hands in the air. “But he’s all about treating a woman right and he’s got this whole chivalry thing going on, so I had to threaten cutting off his dick to get him to stay in the car.”
I let out a snort. “Youdidn’t.”
“Sure did.”
“Remind me never to piss you off.”
She grinned. “Well, keep in mind, I’ve known him since he was twelve, and he’s like another brother to me, so he’s had a long time to bring me to the point of wanting to do bodily harm. I think he practices on his sisters. Alot.”
“He mentioned that.” I grabbed my purse and keys, and after locking my door, we headed out.
As we walked downstairs, Katie in front of me, I heard her mutter, “Fucking hell,” and I looked up to find Gio leaning against a silver Toyota, his face twisted in pain, but trying desperately to school his features so he appeared casual and nonchalant.
Katie let out a frustrated groan as we made a mad dash for the car. “What the fuck,Gio?”
“You were takin’ a while, so I wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
She wrapped an arm around his waist and hissed, “I’m seriously going to cut off your dick.”
“You look gorgeous, Fizzy,” he said, and I smiled.
“Thanks. You look great, too.” I raised an eyebrow. “Although, this whole ensemble would look better without the strain on your face.”
“I’m fine,” he said, obviously lying through his teeth.
I threw my purse into the car and wrapped my arm around his waist from the other side, then Katie and I helped him back into the passenger seat. “I can sit in the back.”
“It’s easier to get you out of the front,” Katie countered.
“Waverly shouldn’t be made to sit in the back,” he argued.
“Waverly’s standing right here, and I’m fine to be chauffeured.” I grinned, reaching over him to secure his seatbelt.
