Well… okay. That’s a lie.
Hedoesknow how my brain works. He knows the kind of thoughts I have. He knows because I showed him. I let him in there. But he doesn’t know this part. He doesn’t know that Gio and I already… did things. Plural.
Bathroom things, bed things, elevator things. "If our parents find out we’re dead" things. No one knows.
Lorenzo groans dramatically.
"Ugh. Fine. I’ll go. But if you’re not dressed when I get back, I’m telling your dad."
Gio just winks. "Give him details."
Lorenzo disappears down the hall. "Horny idiots."
We walk into the room. Gio immediately takes his shirt off and falls straight to the bed.
"I can’t take another fucking meeting," he mutters into the sheets. "Agreed," I say, kicking off my shoes. He pushes himself up on his elbows and starts scanning the room slowly.
The big bed, the view, the stupidly nice furniture. "All of this is yours, huh?" he says. I turn and look at him, suspicious.
I don’t really remember telling him that, but it weirdly makes me happy he knows. I smile a little, kind of shy, and pick his T-shirt up from the floor, smoothing it out.
"It’s just under my name," I say. "I don’t really… do much for this one."
"Still," Gio says. "It’s sick. You’ve got a whole dowry out of nowhere. Other people in your place wouldn’t work at all, they’d just chill and let the money roll in."
I shrug. "Yeah, well. Istillwanna be a teacher. That doesn’t change." I fold his shirt and set it on the nightstand.
Gio watches me. "That’s cute," he says.
He pushes himself up a little and reaches for me. His hand hooks around my wrist and he yanks me down onto the bed next to him. And he doesn’t stop there. He immediately climbs over me.
If someone looked in from the outside, they’d probably think this is his favorite place to be. On me.
"What the hell are you doing?" I ask, trying to sound calm. Then he leans in, clearly going for a kiss. On purpose, I turn my head to the side so he gets cheek instead of mouth.
Just to tease him. "Look at you," I say. "Pathetic. You used to mock me, remember? And now you can’t even go five minutes without needing to touch me."
He reaches up, slow, and removes my glasses.
He places them carefully on the nightstand like they’re worth more than anything else in the room. Then he starts running his fingers through my hair.
"You’re no better, Ravioli," he says. "All your hate turned into hunger, and it showed in your sucking. If that was you 'hating' me, I don’t even wanna know how you’d suck me if you actually liked me."
I burst out laughing, right in his face. "Yeah, well," I say, looking him straight in the eyes, "guess you’ll never find out." He snorts. And then, while I’m still talking, he grabs my cheeks with both hands and squeezes them, squishing my face into some ridiculous shape.
I blink at him, baffled. "Seriously?"
He bursts out laughing.
"You’re a fucking idiot," I mumble, my cheeks still squished between his hands while he laughs.
"And you’re kinda adorable like this," he laughs.
I swat his hands away. "Get off me. You’re heavy."
"You’re just soft," he teases. "Soft? Where?" I lean in a little, meeting his gaze. "I could knock you flat if I wanted to."
He grins, still not moving. "You want to be on top? Say the word."
