Shame crept up my spine as I realized what a coward I was being. Hiding from her, from the understanding in her eyes.
Finally, I forced myself to meet her gaze.
And fuck, she was beautiful.
Even now, with the buns on her head falling apart, her mascara smeared, and her black cardigan covered in dirt.
Without thinking, I brushed away the dark-gray streaks on her cheek with my thumb—only to remember too late that my hands were covered in mud.
“Shit,” I muttered, my eyes tracing over the streak I’d left on her cheek. “I got you dirty.”
She smiled, and it was pure light. The first break of sunrise over the horizon. “Don’t think it makes much of a difference at this point.”
I huffed. We were both filthy.
Her eyes searched mine. “What happened to you?” she asked again.
I couldn’t tell her. Couldn’t let her inside that part of me. The ugliest, darkest part. But the walls I’d spent years building around it were weak now. Punctured.
And the way she looked at me—with no pity, no judgment, just quiet concern—made the words slip out.
“A while back, I ran my car into a lake. Almost drowned. Driving in the rain made me—” I swallowed hard, shaking my head. I sounded like a fucking idiot.
“The rain made it feel like we were underwater,” she said gently, squeezing my shoulders. “I get it.”
I focused on the sensation of her touch. It didn’t bother me anymore. It anchored me to this moment instead of letting me drown in the past.
We stayed like that until my body felt like it was back to normal.
But I feared nothing would ever be normal again.
CHAPTER17
MIA
The road stretched ahead, slick and gleaming under the headlights as I drove us back toward Fabi’s.
Romolo was fiddling with the heat.
“It’s one night,” I said.
“It’s not happening. I’m going home.”
“You can leave first thing tomorrow morning.”
“I’m not staying at Fabi’s,” he snapped. “It’s not even your place to invite me to.”
He was right. It wasn’t my house. But Fabi wouldn’t hold it against me. The storm was an easy excuse for bringing Romolo along. And considering she was about to become part of his family, it wasn’t as if he’d be unwelcome.
“I’m not inviting you. I’m telling you that's what you're doing.”
“When did you get the impression that you can tell me what to do?” His voice was low and edged with frustration. He hadn’t shaken off what had happened back there. For a man like him, that must have been a cataclysmic event. A moment of raw vulnerability in front of someone playing for the other team.
He hated every second of this.
“We all have our weak spots, Romolo.” A beat passed. “You don’t have to be so angry that I saw yours. The more you try to repress something painful, the more it tends to rupture to the surface when you least expect it.”
His jaw ticked. “What painful feelings have you been repressing?”
