"Listen to me," he whispers. "We’re going out the window. Okay?" I nod, too many times. We move together toward the window. Gio gets there first and shoves it open.
"We’ve got this, okay?" he says, already halfway outside. "We’ll go down the stairs. It’s nothing. He won’t see us. Trust me."
I nod again and again. Then I climb out. The second my feet hit the outside ledge, I laugh. I don’t even know why.
Maybe because this is absolutely, completely, insanely real. Maybe because the adrenaline is flooding my veins. Gio follows me out, hears me laugh, and starts laughing too. Is it funny? No. Nothing about this is funny. It’s tragic, humiliating, and fucking terrifying. But we’re doing it together.
Gio reaches back in and slides the window shut. Then he turns to me and motions down. The fire escape. The stupid metal stairs that are suddenly our best idea.
I grip the railing and start down. Gio stays close behind me. We’re almost down. "Remind me later," he says between panting breaths, "to show you how proud I am of you."
I laugh again, because who says that right now? Who flirts with courage? "I’ll try," I whisper back. Suddenly I feel happiness.
Yes, in the middle of all this terror.
Maybe it’s the adrenaline. Maybe it’s the freedom. I don’t fucking know. We’re in front of the Ducati now. Gio gives me his helmet. Climbs on. "Lock ourselves up at my place?" he says, raising a brow. I smile and nod.
"Yes please."
…
Red light. My arms are around his waist, tight. I don’t care who sees. "Are you okay?" I ask him, rubbing his abs.
"Never been better."
I smile. I let my hands slide justslightlylower. Just to test the waters. His head turns fast. I meet his eyes and laugh.
I’ve never felt prouder.
Of him. Of me. Of us. I feel like I got out of a shell I didn’t even know I was in. Right now I’m fucking proud, and exactly where I’m supposed to be.
Gio parks the bike on this random little hill that’s definitely not his house or my house. I look around. "What are we doing here?" I ask, but he doesn’t answer.
"Get off for a sec." I scratch my head, confused. But I get off. He takes my hand and leads me to a tiny bench a few steps away. The view is insane, houses and little lights below us. I laugh under my breath. "What?" He doesn’t say anything. He pops off my helmet gently, puts it on the ground. Then he sits in front of me, just staring. "What?" I ask again, laughing because I suddenly feel weirdly shy.
He leans in and wraps his arms around me. One hand in my hair, the other rubbing circles on my back while he squeezes the back of my neck. I smile into his shoulder because…wow.
This.
This is exactly what I needed after everything and I didn’t even know it myself. And no, he’s not a mind reader like my dad said. He just knows how to readme.
He presses a soft kiss to my cheek, then my forehead, then my hair. I hug him back, tight, and one stupid tear slips out even though I’m smiling. He pulls back a little.
"I don’t want to bring that energy home," he murmurs. "So I wanna fix this before we go. Okay?" He wipes my tear with his thumb. I nod. "Yeah…you’re right."
"How do you feel?" Gio asks. And God, I honestly don’t even know. I lift my shoulders. "I don’t know. I’m glad I stood up for us. I don’t regret that for a second. But I’m also kinda sad he didn’t get it. I thought I explained it perfectly."
Gio smiles. "Youdidexplain it perfectly. I’m really proud of you. I swear. You said everything you needed to say. And he said everything he needed to say for you to finally see the truth…that the problem isn’t you." His thumb brushes my cheek. "You’re not asking for too much," he adds. "And no, you don’t need to be a mind reader to know when your kid needs love. Not everyone is meant to be a parent. You were just unlucky."
He clears the fog off my glasses with his shirt. "I don’t want you sad, okay?" he murmurs. "You look cute with puffy eyes, but I prefer you happy."
I nod again, smiling a little. "I’m not sad. I’m proud of us. Maybe…a little too proud." A smirk creeps up.
His eyes go wide. "Tell me you’re not—"
I nod. He covers his face. "You whore! Stop. If you’re horny, I’m horny."
I laugh, wiping the last wetness from my eyes. "Sorry. You’re hot. What do you want me to do? I poured my whole soul out for this.I deserveto be horny."
