Flirting with Fire
Page 2
“It’s locked.” He wears the most bored expression on his face.
“Sorry.”
Since my Wrangler is old as hell, I have to actually insert the key into the passenger door before heading to my side.
“Don’t go thinking you’re getting lucky,” he jokes, sliding his large form into my car.
He sure takes up a lot more space than Lauren.
“Don’t worry, I won’t take advantage of you,” I say in response.
Wow! Did I just flirt with Mauro Bianco?
I start the car with shaking hands. Other than a shoulder brush near his locker that sent my heartbeat in a tailspin my freshman year, I’ve never been this close to him. I’m trying my best to concentrate on the road and not the fact that my entire body feels like I just ran a triathlon.
“Tell me about yourself.” He reaches down, grabbing the lever of the seat and adjusting it so he’s leaning farther back.
“There’s not much to say. I’m a sophomore.”
“You must know my brother then. Luca Bianco?”
Um…he can’t be that naive to think that the Bianco brothers aren’t known by every female between the ages of fourteen and eighteen within a fifty-mile radius. I mean they’re three attractive Italian brothers, each a year apart from each other. All of them accomplished athletes and gorgeous as hell.
“I think I have PE with him.” I think I pulled off a casual vibe with my response which is hard when almost every girl in school tries to get her schedule changed to have PE with any one of the brothers.
“He’s cocky and arrogant, right? We’re not all alike.” His voice is fading like he’s growing tired. “Take me, I’m going to graduate this year and have no clue what the fuck I want to do with my life. No football scholarship doesn’t leave me with a ton of options. I’m thinking about joining the army.”
I’m hoping he ignores the fact I’m driving to his house without any directions from him, but everyone knows where the Bianco brothers live.
“That’s very…heroic.” I’m sure my voice betrays my worry.
“You don’t make it sound that way. My mama is pissed. Like beat me with a frying pan pissed for even thinking about joining. Not that she’s against me serving my country, she worries about me not coming back. You know moms.” He runs his hand through his hair.
The thought of something happening to him overseas and not coming back sends a chill through me.
“What makes you want to join?”
A low stream of air flows out of his mouth and I’m reminded once again that he probably wouldn’t be speaking this freely with me if he weren’t drunk.
“All I know is I don’t want to run a sandwich shop when I’m older.” He shrugs.
The Sandwich Place is the Bianco family business and is located downtown across from the courthouse. I’m sure as the oldest son in an Italian family the pressure to take over the shop is immense, but he doesn’t seem like someone who would shave meat for a living.
“Nothing else has ever piqued your interest? No classes?” I put my blinker on to make a right-hand turn, looking in all directions before I finally push down on the gas pedal.
“I’ve lived through high school one party at a time. My future seemed like something so far off in the distance…like it would never actually come.” The melancholy in his voice suggests that thought haunts him. “What do you want to do?”
“Well, I have a little longer than you, but no way my dad won’t make me go to college. I’m not sure what I want to do with my life either. Does that make you feel any better?”
One corner of his lip tips up. “A little. I figured you’d spit out doctor or some shit where you’ll be in school for the next ten years.”
“So are you relieved that I’m as indecisive as you?”
He chuckles again, turning the radio up a notch. “Chasing Cars” by Snow Patrol plays and Mauro sings softly along to the lyrics. “I know it’s selfish, but it does relieve me.”
I turn down Irving Park Road to head to his house.
“You’re easy to talk to.” His forearm flexes as he rolls down my window. The cool fall air flows into the car. “Sorry, I feel like I’m gonna puke.”
My fingers wrap around the steering wheel even tighter. “Tell me and I’ll pull over.”
My dad would kill me if someone puked in my car.
He leans back again and as the song continues to play, his voice fades. I chance a look to find his eyes closed.
A few minutes later, I pull up to the curb of his bungalow. Three football helmet signs dot the yard with Bianco at the bottom and each of the siblings’ numbers.
The residential street is dark and vacant when I climb out of the Wrangler. I open the passenger side door and nudge Mauro.
His eyes snap open, wide and blue. “Shit. I’m sorry.” He bolts up.
“Hold on, be careful.” I step back.
“I’m good.” He gets out—a little wobbly, but able to walk. “Want to go to the park?”
He poses it as a question, but he’s already heading into the darkness, halfway across the street.
“I think you should probably go lay down.”
“Nah.” He waves me off. “Come on. Let your hair down a little.”
I follow him because when you’re a girl like me and a guy like Mauro invites you along, you go.
The park is barely lit with a yellow tint from the street lamps along the path.
“Remember the days when everything was so simple? The hardest decision was the slide or the swings.”
He bypasses the swings for the slide.
“I was a monkey bars girl.”
“Probably because you’re determined. I bet you worked forever to master those things.” He lifts his eyebrows.
For being drunk, he’s intuitive. Then again, I’ve never been drunk. Maybe that comes with the alcohol.
“A month. It was the first and last physical thing I ever beat Lauren at.”
He turns from climbing the ladder and points to me. “That’s why you look so familiar, you’re friends with Lauren Hunt.”
I mentally chastise myself. We already established he didn’t really know me.
“We’ve been best friends since kindergarten.”
“But you’re so different.”
Yeah, she’s hot and I’m homely looking.
“Yeah, she’s super athletic and I can’t run without tripping over my own feet,” I say instead.
He stops, sitting at the top of the slide, his long legs leaving him almost halfway down already. “I was going to say because Lauren is a ball buster and you’re…sweet.” He slides down the metal slide while my heart flips in my chest. “I was a slide guy. Anything to get me up high. I only did the swings if Cristian or Luca dared me they could jump farther.”
He skips over the part where he kind of complimented me, but I know it’s something I’ll never forget.
Wandering some more, he heads toward the outfield of the baseball field and collapses on his back.
“Lay with me.” He pats the spot next to him.
“I should really get home.” I wind my dress in my fingers until I realize that’s pulling my dress higher.
“Come on. We’re just getting to know one another.”
I sit down next to him and he grabs the back of my dress, pulling me down.
“You ever wonder the point of this is? Life. Why we’re here? Like we both go to Catholic school. Don’t you ever wonder about God’s plan for you?”
“Yeah.”
Suddenly, he leans on his side, holding his head up with his hand.
“I feel like I’m meant to do something meaningful. Not sit in an office, or worse, inventory and order sandwich meats. I want to live, knowing that tomorrow isn’t guaranteed so I don’t look back on my life and wonder what the hell I did with it, you know? I get how it is with my parents. They each came here for a better life and the sandwich place is their life.” He laughs. “And me, Cristian, and Luca. It m
akes them happy.”
“So you just want to be happy?” I continue to stare up at the sky, attempting to ignore the proximity of his body heat so close to me.
He’s just a boy, he’s just a boy.
I see him shrug from the corner of my eye. “That’s where I’m fucked up. I want it all. The family, the house, the career. I don’t want to settle, but no one gets the trifecta.”
A pinch in my heart has me turning my head to look at him. How can this jock, who I never really thought much of except for his hot body and beautiful face now, break off a piece of my heart?
“What about you? Do you believe in love?” he asks.
I look away, gazing back up at the stars and trying to keep my breathing even. “I used to, but after my parents’ divorce, I kind of agree with you. You can’t have it all, so I’d rather choose career and screw the family.”
“You don’t want to get hurt?” Mauro is much more intuitive than I would have thought.
“I suppose. Both my parents hurt after the divorce.” I press my lips together, remembering that time in my life.
“My parents fight like crazy, but usually their bedroom door is shut hours later. My brothers and I flee the house while they’re making up.”
He slides his hand down between us, running his fingers up and down my arm.
“Will you look at me?” he asks in a gentle voice.
I turn my head and lock gazes with him. His hand is suddenly on my cheek, and he’s leaning over.
I squeal inside when his eyes fixate on my lips.
“Can I kiss you?”
“Okay,” I practically whisper.
Lame, Maddie. Lame.
“Relax and close your eyes.”
Does he know this is my first time being kissed? Is that why he asked permission and is directing my body how to respond?
As my mind is swimming with a million simultaneous thoughts, he presses his lips to mine and all those worries vanish as his tongue slowly slides into my mouth.
I’ve long imagined what it would feel like to be kissed at all, but the fact that my first kiss is from Mauro Bianco feels like I’m in a movie or something.
Every nerve in my body fires and he moans softly, his body weight starting to press into me as he deepens the kiss. My breasts press against his chest now and though the sensation is new and unfamiliar, I understand now why girls want to do this. I open my mouth some more, loving the sensation of our tongues brushing together.
“Shit.” He pulls back, sitting up and pressing his hand to his lips. “Your braces.”
Blood leaks from his lip.
“I’m sorry.” My eyes are wide and my heart races as my cheeks heat.
He picks up his t-shirt, blotting his lip. “It’s okay.” He stands up, working to find his balance for a second. “Want to ride the slide?”
Just like that, the kiss is forgotten and he’s wandering away.
“Mauro, what the fuck are you doing?” someone yells as they cross the street. “Fuck. Ma’s going to kill you.”
“Cris, I might have had too many, but I got a ride. Do you know….?” He glances back to where I’m unceremoniously getting myself up off the grass, his arm stretched out toward me.
I step out of the darkness and Cristian’s eyes widen for a second.
“Hey, Maddie.” He disregards his brother beelining it over to me. “Everything okay?”
“Um…yeah. I just gave your brother a ride.”
The blood on Mauro’s lip is pooling now but isn’t streaming down.
“Nothing else?” Cristian dips down to see my eyes. I can barely form a coherent sentence, let alone assure him I’m good.
I just had my first kiss with the boy of my dreams and my braces cut his lip. I do live in a movie, but not a romance, rather a horror film.
“Yeah, everything’s good. You can make sure he gets inside?”
“Yeah.” Cristian heads over to his brother, hooking his arm over his shoulder. “Thanks a lot, Maddie.”
“MADDIE!” Mauro starts singing the Barry Manilow song using my name.
“The song says Mandy, fucktard,” Cristian says.
Mauro laughs for a second before dead silence fills the air. “I’m gonna puke.”
I hop in my Wrangler and glance over to the park where I see Mauro’s head in the trashcan and Cristian waving goodbye to me.
My phone rings in the center console and I pick it up.
“Where the hell are you?” Lauren screams when I answer.
“Sorry, I got lost,” I lie and start my truck, getting the hell away from the Bianco house.
The rest of the weekend felt like it crawled by. I played our kiss over and over again in my head—both the amazing part and the embarrassment of his bleeding lip.
Even still by the time Monday rolled around I can’t help that hope that blooms inside me like a fragile flower. It’s right before homeroom that I first spot him walking down the hallway.
I feel half nauseous, half excited and more than anything anxious to get speaking to each other at school over with.
I pause as he approaches and smile wide at him so he’ll know that it’s okay to say hello. Instead, he walks right by me with nothing but a polite smile.
Mortification is swift and complete, even if no one else is the wiser.
I run to the girl’s bathroom, passing Lauren on the way and hearing her call my name, but I ignore her. I don’t want to be near anyone right now.
When I reach the bathroom, I race into the stall and let the waterworks loose.
I can’t believe that I actually believed, even for a second, that he could have feelings for me. What a joke.
I should have known I was the only one who felt something that night.
Chapter One
Present Day
Madison
“One thousand!” Lauren stands, her paddle high in the air like she’s the damn Statue of Liberty. Actually, strike that, the paddle in her hand isn’t hers, it’s mine.
“Lauren!” I scold, rising from my chair.
Whose idea was it to switch our paddles and bid on a hot bachelor for the other? Not mine, that’s for sure. More importantly, why did I go along with the idea that Lauren could pick a guy for me to date at this First Responders Fallen Hero Bachelor Auction? I was out of my mind to think she’d make the right pick for me.
That’s how she snuck the first couple of bids by me because when Mauro Bianco stepped foot on that stage, the multi-tasking function in my brain turned off.
He still looks like a real life model. The spotlight glows over his head, giving the appearance that his dark hair holds streaks of natural highlights. His chiseled jaw is more defined than his boyish one at eighteen.
My entire body heats with flames only he can extinguish. It’s not his broad shoulders and tight waist, the dimples in his cheeks or his luscious pink lips that undo me. It’s his eyes. The way they transform from aqua to the deepest blue of the ocean depending on what feeling is spiraling around inside him. Mix those with the bronzed skin of his Italian heritage and I’m done for.
The MC goes back and forth between Lauren and another woman who wants a piece of Mauro. I’m not sure whether I want her or Lauren to win.
The gavel lands on the podium and my muscles tense as he points to Lauren and yells, “Sold!”
She drops the paddle in the middle of the table as though it’s a generous bundle of hundred dollar bills.
“You can thank me at your wedding.” She smirks.
Lauren saw me through my Mauro Bianco fangirl phase. I never told her what happened that fateful night I drove my drunk crush home—I was too embarrassed to tell even her.
“I don’t want Mauro,” I protest even though my body is literally giddy to think about another night alone with him. One where I’m not in braces and glasses. We may not be on equal footing now, but the gap is shortening.
Don’t get too cocky, my inner voice warns.
“I need to be filled
in.” Vanessa’s blonde hair swings side to side as her head swivels between Lauren and myself.
Vanessa didn’t make us a trio until college after we got thrown into a quad without a fourth. She never met the Maddie who turns into a babbling mess when Mauro’s within a twenty-foot perimeter. And she won’t know her now. I refuse to morph back into the insecure girl who propped him up on a pedestal.
“Later,” I whisper, not wanting to rehash history in this moment.
“If this is the way we’re going to play it.” She turns to face the MC who is now introducing Mauro’s little brother, Luca. “Then game on.”
At the end of the auction, once we’ve all pissed each other off by selecting one another’s dates, somehow, we each ended up with a Bianco brother. Lauren practically tackled Vanessa to prevent her from bidding on Luca for her and Vanessa has told me that she will not be going out with Cristian, who’s a police officer.
Good times all around.
After we pay for our dates, I feel a little better about things since the money is going to help such a wonderful charity. Then I spot Mauro across the room and decide I’d feel a helluva lot better if my date wasn’t flirting with some blonde who won’t stop touching his bicep. The two are entranced in a moment. Is she the other woman who was bidding? I narrow my eyes, but I can’t be sure.
I might as well see what the action is about in the banquet room since there are more hot firefighter, police officers, and EMTs around. I leave my two roommates to fight it out with their designated dates.
Hell, maybe Mauro will have some insanely busy schedule and be unable to go on the date. Ever.
You don’t really wish that.
Or maybe he’ll shuck the responsibility. It’s not like in high school he was one to follow the rules. Rules never seemed to apply to the prom king and quarterback. When others were being stopped for sneaking off school property for lunch, Mauro was waving his goodbye and peeling off around the corner. Everyone else had to carry around passes to be in the hallways during class time, but Mauro acted as though the hallways were his kingdom. We didn’t have any classes together, but word was he was usually asleep in the back row.