"You’re too close."
"There’s no such thing. Not foryou,anyway."
"What’s that supposed to mean?"
"It means you live in this distance," he says. "This space."
He taps his forehead to mine, mocking me. "Right here."
I look down for half a second, then drag my gaze back up to him. "Stop doing that."
"Doing what?" he says.
"Touching me like that."
"Hmm, guess who else does that."
I try to laugh, but it cracks. "I know what I’m doing, you don’t know shit."
He tilts his head, still holding my gaze. "I know you haven’t pushed me away."
"I can push you away whenever I want."
He smirks. "So do it, Giovanni."
I glare at him. "I hate you now."
"No, you don’t," he says.
"I do."
"Then why are you still here?"
"Because you’re blocking the exit, you idiot."
He grins, and his eyes flick down to my lips again. "You’re taller. Step over me."
"Okay, God, stop. That’s enough," I snap, rubbing a hand over my face because my whole system is glitching.
"I get it. Stop. Before I change my mind and leave you on that damn balcony with your depression."
"I’m not here becauseyouforced me. I’m here by choice. So even if you regret it, that doesn’t change anything. I won’t go away."
I stare at him.
Whoisthis man??
Where is the shy, soft-spoken Rava I used to torture for sport?
Who swapped him out for the cold, confident version?
It feels illegal. Like I’m witnessing some forbidden version of him I’m not supposed to unlock.
He’s changed. So fucking much.
It’s honestly a little terrifying.
I hope tonight I manage to crack that ice you’re carrying around, Ravioli.
