I listen to him, my head bowed and my gaze fixed on my knees.
“Believe me, it took me so long to get over you that I didn’t have my first real girlfriend until I was nineteen. It wasn’t anything memorable, and my second was even less so. With the third one I tried my best, but I still felt nothing and lost interest as soon as we slept together. From then on, I realized that sex with no strings attached was less exhausting and less depressing than trying to fall in love at all costs.”
“Careful,” I warn him, “you’ve leaped from ‘crushes’ to ‘falling in love.’”
“That’s because I really would give you my heart. I just can’t tell if you want it.”
“I do want it,” I admit, “but I’m afraid you’ll take it back.”
“You should know that in my eyes, all the women in the world put together are no match for you. I like you because you can piss me off like no one else—and do you know why? Because I’m indifferent to the others. You’re the only one I care about. You’re in my head. I can’t get you out, and I don’t even want to. I won’t give up on you, even if we have to spend hours screaming in each other’s faces.”
“What if that’s all we can do? Just scream at each other all the time?”
“It’s not, Elisa,” he objects. “You and I are also this.” And I can feel the “this” on my face. He leaves a trail of light kisses on my right cheek, following the wet trail of my tears over to my lips, which, to my surprise, are already open, waiting for him.
Am I forgiving him too quickly? Maybe, but what if, as usual, I jumped to conclusions instead of reflecting on the situation?
“I’ve seen you cry twice, at most. I’m almost proud of the fact that one of them is because of me,” he whispers, his breath against my lips.
“I hate you,” I reply, giving him a punch in the chest that he doesn’t even feel.
“I know.”
“Now kiss me, please.”
“You don’t need to say ‘please.’” His tongue traces my lower lip with a criminal slowness. “If you really want it, you have to come and get it.”
39
Michael
Luckily, she kisses me, because I barely manage to contain myself. Why did I do it? Because I want Elisa to decide. I don’t want her to feel seduced; I’m willing to give her power. Sure, I teased her, but I left it up to her.
In my head, there’s no Sheila, no Danielle. It may be easy to get into my pants but not into my head, not there.
“You’re not exactly a pushover, you know,” I murmur, as I move my lips from her mouth to that part of her neck just behind her ear, where I breathe in her perfume that drives me crazy.
“I love watching you conquer every inch of me.”
“Don’t think I always do this. Only if it’s worth it.”
“Is that so?”
“If you want, I’ll show you how we can shake this hut to the ground,” I say, lying down on the plank beneath me.
“Am I supposed to believe you like me like this? With this antisex apron from Premiata Salumeria Pianigiani?”
“You couldn’t be sexier in a lace thong.” I untie the knot behind her back and immediately start unbuttoning her jeans. “But maybe we should take it off anyway ...”
“We could be arrested for indecent exposure,” she sighs, reaching under my hands to stop me.
“They’ll finally have something to talk about in Belvedere.”
The way she runs her fingers through my hair drives me crazy, the way she wraps her legs around my hips, her muffled moans in my mouth, the way she searches for me with her whole body.
“Do you want us to stop?” I ask her, feeling my point of no return dangerously approaching.
“Yes ... no ...” she replies, confused, her lips still searching for mine.
