"No. Leave," I say, still not looking at him.
He throws his arms up. "Okay, rude. Fine. I’m actually leaving. I’m going to find food. If I have to beg in the parking lot, I will. Otherwise I’m gonna faint from hunger and get admitted before your mom." He stands up dramatically, grabs his jacket, and storms off toward the exit.
I’m still running my fingers through Rava’s hair. He’s still asleep on me. Peaceful. His breathing slow and steady, his fingers gently curled into the fabric of my shirt.
Cute. He’s holding onto me even in his sleep. I glance down at him again. I shift him slightly, just enough to pull him even closer to my chest.
My arms wrap around him, tighter. My lips press to the top of his head. I hear footsteps. I look up.
It’s his mom, walking back into the waiting room. I straighten up instinctively, spine snapping like I got caught doing something wrong. My hands don’t leave Rava, but I’m suddenly way too aware of them. Of how close we are.
I never used to care about this stuff. Never felt awkward touching someone. But this is her son. This is different.
"I—I can let go of him," I say quickly, my voice low. "If it makes you uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to—"
She holds up a hand gently, shaking her head before I can finish. "Please don’t. He’s finally relaxing. With you."
Good. My shoulders drop an inch. She smiles, sitting down across from us again. "I haven’t seen him like this in a while."
I glance back at Rava. His cheek presses into my chest now. His lashes flutter slightly, but he’s still out. "I’m glad he finally let himself feel what he’s been holding back for so long," she says.
I look up at her slowly. "What do you mean?"
She laughs. "Oh, come on, Gio. It was obvious."
"It was?"
"Oh absolutely," she says. "The boy once kept a tissue in his diary labeled‘Given by Gio Fontana (Thursday)’."
I choke on a breath. "He—what?"
She laughs. "Yup. Folded neatly. In a plastic sleeve. I wasn’t snooping, I swear, I was dusting his shelves and it fell open. Nearly gave me a heart attack. Thought I’d stumbled on some forensic evidence."
I laugh. "God," I murmur, smiling. "That’s so him."
She watches me for a second. "Do you actually love him?"
I nod, slowly. "You have no idea how much. How can anyonenotlove him? Seriously." I look at his hand resting on my stomach and cover it gently with mine.
She watches us both. "He’s lucky to have someone who sees him the way you do."
I don’t answer. Because I’m the lucky one.
"So… how exactly do we tell Charles, you know… that we’re in love without getting murdered?"
She leans back a little, arms crossed tightly. "Carefully," she says, with zero sarcasm. "And not alone."
"Do you think he’d really lose it?"
"I think he’ll pretend it’s not real. Or worse, blame you for ‘corrupting’ him. That’s how Charles works, everything is always someone else’s fault." I nod slowly. That tracks.
"Rava’s not ashamed," I say.
"I know. And that’s what scares his father most. He’s losing control. Rava’s finally living for himself." She pauses, glancing between us. "And you’re a big part of that. When the time comes to tell him… I’ll be there too."
I nod. I don’t know when we’ll have that fight, but I know I won’t be alone in it.
23) Tell Me More Baby
