"I wouldn’t."
"Wouldn’t you?" His voice is teasing now, but lowkey probing. "Come on. Why not?! Is he ugly or something?"
Ugly. If only.
"He’s… normal," I finally mutter.
"So he’s hot."
"No. Well, kinda?! I don’t know. No. Shut up. That’s not the point." "Exactly. The point is that you deserve to feel like you won. And if you get a little fun along the way…"
"What makes you think he’d ever want to kiss me, you idiot?!"
Oh. I said that too loud. Way too loud.
I shut my bedroom door fast. I drop my voice to a whisper.
"The only thing he wants is to piss me off all day."
"My sweet innocent boy," Noah says, dead serious and mocking at the same time. "I would bet my entire life and my tattoo career that he absolutely would."
I let my head fall back against the wall. My mind plays the scenario in a fast-forwarded blur.
Her shocked face. Gio’s usual smirk. My hands on him. His hand on the back of my neck. I shut it down.
"I’m not doing that," I say finally. "I’m not that guy."
Noah sighs. "Fine. Be noble. Boring, but noble."
I smile faintly. "Thanks for calling."
"Always. Don’t let the jerk win."
"Which one?"
He laughs. "You tell me."
When I hang up, I sit in silence for a long time. I cannot believe my life has already turned into this soup of chaos.
I was perfectly fine in Canada.
My life was peaceful and most importantly, predictable.
Zero half-naked Italians ruining my mental stability. I glance at the window again.
Tch.
He’s not going to be the only one who works out.
I can do it too.
And I will.
Afternoon
It is time for the presentation. The one I basically did alone, while Gio played DJ, threw almonds at me, and somehow still managed to consider himself "ready."
He said he "helped."
