You say his name and everyone crosses themselves like he's the devil. If they only knew.
"How are you so calm?" I mutter.
"I don't believe in panic," he says, then pauses. "Except in bed. There I fully support it."
"You're unbelievable."
He looks at me. "But you're gonna miss me."
I try to laugh. Tried. "You wish."
"Oh, I know."
I smile, because I'm a liar. Of course I'm gonna miss him.
I already do and I haven't even left yet. I'm already grieving something that technically... never started.
"You gonna cry when I leave?" I ask.
"Only if you don't kiss me goodbye."
That almost kills me. Seriously.
"Didn't think I wouldeversay this, but I'm gonna fucking miss sharing a bed with you, Ravioli."
"I mean," I say, fingers barely brushing his thigh, "we can keep doing this. Even in Italy… If we're careful."
He smirks like he already knows we wouldn't be. "You think we can pull that off?"
I tilt my head. "You doubting me, Fontana?"
His hand creeps onto my knee. "Never. I just think... you're gonna be the one who cracks."
"Me?" I scoff. "Why? You couldn't handle it and kissed me twice after the club."
"Yeah, butyouwere the one who suggested we kiss in the first place," he shoots back, fingers sliding into my hair.
"So you were already done for."
Shit. From that angle... okay, he's got a point.
"What are you gonna do," he goes on, "when I sit on your right and your terrifying father sits on your left?"
I lean back on my hands, staring at the ceiling. "I'll do what I did before," I say. "I'll look at you like you're trash."
"Mhm," he hums. "But inside, you'll have already stripped me."
I laugh. "True. But no one is gonna know that," I say. "That's between me and my brain."
"And me."
"Yes, and you. We'll time everything. Strategize."
"Use Lorenzo as a decoy."
"Absolutely."
"Make out behind doors like it's a heist."
