When he parked at my apartment complex, I willed myself to kiss him, to ask him out on a date, to do anything that could possibly lead to the fantasy I’d had back in the classroom. But it was so much easier to just keep my mouth shut. It was so much less risky, so much safer not to put myself out there.
“Thanks,” I said as I stepped out of the car. When I closed the door behind me, Vincenzo was rounding the front of the car.
“I’ll walk you,” he said as he glanced around the dark parking lot. “It’s late.”
I smiled. “Don’t worry, it’s a safe area.”
“I’ll walk you,” he said again and slipped his arm through mine.
I enjoyed him being so close to me.
We walked silently up to the door of my apartment. When we paused in front of it, he made no motion to leave. Instead he gazed deeply into my eyes, as if he was waiting.
I stared at him intently. I could feel the words forming in my mind. I couldn’t believe that I was really going to ask. But I couldn’t stop myself from speaking.
“Do you want to come inside?” I asked and giggled. Yes, I giggled—at thirty-two.
Vincenzo smiled. “I would love to,” he said with a nod and took my hand gently in his own.
I smiled and turned the key in the lock. I felt my heart racing. This was a big no-no on my list of things that I, Samantha, did not do. If a man wanted to see the inside of my apartment, he had to take me out on at least three dates, and that was only to stand inside the door while I grabbed my coat. But I had already invited him in; there was no turning back now. It would be rude. I pushed the door open behind me. Vincenzo stepped in after me. I was being brave, I told myself, I was being very brave.
“Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess.” I cringed as I noticed some of my clothes and a towel draped over various pieces of furniture.
“It’s just fine,” Vincenzo said. “Remember, Samantha, you must relax.” He reached out and began rubbing my shoulders.
“Oh, um,” I whispered, feeling very flustered. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Sure.” I felt his lips brush along the curve of my neck as he spoke.
I slipped away from him and headed into the kitchen. All of a sudden my heart was hammering for another reason. I had just invited a complete stranger into my home. He was already nuzzling my neck. I didn’t even know if Vincenzo was his last name or his first name. I shuddered as I grabbed a bottle of wine. I wanted to be this love-on-a-whim type of woman, but I wasn’t very good at it. I could see the headlines in the newspaper:
Desperate young woman invites a stranger into her room and no one is surprised when she’s found chopped into bits.
“Samantha?” Vincenzo called out from the living room. “Do you need some help?”
I was so startled by the sound of his voice that the bottle of wine slipped out of my hand. It shattered against the floor, spilling shards of glass and puddles of red wine. It looked like a crime scene had materialized.
“I’ll be right there.”
“Samantha?” he said again, only this time he was standing right inside my kitchen. “What happened?” I was on my knees trying to gather the shards of glass together. “No, no,” he said. “Don’t do that, you might—”
“Ouch,” I cursed under my breath—the red that was spreading across my palm was not wine. “I’m sorry,” I said as I looked up at him. I was on my knees in the middle of a huge mess, and to top it off I was bleeding now. What he must have thought as he looked at me, I didn’t even want to imagine. He snatched a towel off the oven door handle and crouched down in front of me.
“Shh…accidents happen.” He reached for my hand. I spread my fingers out. He pressed the towel gently against the cut in my palm. It was just a thin slice, but it felt good to have someone tend to my wounds.
“To me, they seem to happen all of the time.” I sighed and gazed into his beautiful brown eyes. Only moments before, I had been imagining that this man could be a killer. Now he was being so tender that I was certain I had lost my mind.
“Don’t worry so much, Samantha, and then you won’t have so many accidents.” He chuckled and pulled the towel away. “See? All better.”
I smiled at him and took the towel. I remembered why I had invited him in. He had a very honest nature. I grabbed a dustpan and broom to get the rest of the glass up.
“There’s another bottle of wine in the refrigerator,” I said as I scooped up the glass.
“Oh, Samantha,” he said as he surveyed the contents of my refrigerator, “I will have to take you shopping.”
I laughed a little at that and washed my hands carefully in the sink. By the time I turned around he had already poured us both a glass of wine.
“To a passionate evening,” he said as he offered me my glass. I reached for it, but he tugged it back playfully. “Relax, Samantha, or you might drop it.”
I smiled, feeling shy as I took the glass in my hand. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said and sipped his wine.
Chapter 7
As Vincenzo and I walked back into the living room, I still felt a little uneasy. Bringing someone into my apartment was like bringing them into my psyche. So much could be learned about me if one knew where to look.
“This is a nice place you have here,” he said and sat down on the couch.
I sat down beside him.
“It does the job.” I laughed.
“Have you lived here long?” he asked.
“For quite some time.” I didn’t want him to think that I was strange for living in the same apartment for nearly ten years.
“Well, then it is home,” he said and sipped his wine again.
I felt his arm drift over my shoulders. Instantly I tensed up. So did my grasp on the stem of the wine glass. I nearly spilled some with the sudden jerk of my hand. I reminded myself to relax. It was just a glass of wine, just a lovely evening between friends, and it didn’t have to lead to anything more than that, except—oh my god, that was his lips on my neck.
Vincenzo had put his glass down on the table beside the couch. His lips were nuzzling playfully at the sensitive curve of my neck. I would have protested, if I weren’t already drifting into pleasure. I felt him take the wine from my hand. He set it down carefully. Then he kissed me. It was a kiss that was much more than a kiss. It was a kiss of passion, of lust, of fireworks. With a shiver I pulled back slightly from him.
“Vincenzo, this is a little fast for me.”
“It is as fast as passion is dictating,” he said.
I narrowed my eyes. Pretty words never convinced me of anything. But the glide of his hand along my thigh did.
“I don’t normally do this,” I breathed out.
He kissed me again. I began to feel my body unwind. Be brave, Samantha, it was pleading.
“Just relax,” Vincenzo whispered as he slipped his arms around me. “Sometimes the body must have what it must have.”
His words sank in as my mind spun with desire. It really wasn’t something I would normally do. But I felt as if there was no turning back. As Vincenzo had said, sometimes the body must have what it must have.
The thing about unplanned sleepovers is that you never think about having company in your bedroom when you leave your panties in a ball on the floor, or used tissues in a pile, or your teddy bear staring down from a shelf that overlooks your bed. All of those things seem perfectly normal when you leave your bedroom in the morning—but not when you return with Vincenzo on your arm.
I turned off the light as soon as we walked into the room, hoping to hide most of my transgressions. Vincenzo didn’t seem to care. Instead, he spent quite some time, teaching me just how to relax.
By the time we were snuggled close in the afterglow, I felt more relaxed than I could recall ever feeling. In that span of time Max didn’t even cross my mind. The dirty tissues in a pile ceased to exist. The glaringly obvious risk of having a stranger in my bed seemed completely unimportant. All that
mattered was Vincenzo’s arms around me.
“Marry me, my love.” He kissed softly along the back of my neck.
“What?”
“I didn’t say anything,” he murmured and continued to kiss me.
I realized he hadn’t spoken. I had heard what I wanted to hear. But was that really possible after only knowing this man for one day? Could I be in love already? My mind drifted to what our babies would look like, what our home would be like, what our wedding would be like.
“Vincenzo,” I whispered and turned toward him, only to find that he was snoring softly. I smiled at his sweet slumbering face. It was a face I could get used to waking up next to.
I snuggled close to him and closed my eyes. I was very relieved that he wasn’t a serial killer. I was even more relieved that for once a risk I had taken had worked out for the best.
In my dreams, I could see my life unfolding. There was a man beside me, as I bought a house, as I had a child, as I began to grow old. It was a lovely dream. But every time I turned to look at the man of my dreams, he seemed to be turning away. I could never see more than a glimpse of the back of his head.
When I opened my eyes, I was smiling. I rolled over in the bed to find Vincenzo right beside me. He was still sound asleep, his breathing heavy. He gasped a little when he snored. The bed was so warm I almost didn’t want to get out. But I wanted to surprise him with what I could do when I was relaxed. I pulled on a long t-shirt and wandered out into the kitchen. Once the coffee was on I set about creating a delicious breakfast.
I was excited to prepare breakfast for Vincenzo. I knew it would be nothing compared to what he could create, but I was looking forward to showing him that I was trying. I gathered the things I needed from my small pantry, tucked my ear buds into my ears, and turned the music up loud. I danced around the kitchen as I tossed in the ingredients.
I couldn’t hear the sizzle of the oil, but I could smell the scent of the seasoning. It was making my mouth water. As I continued to dance, I thought about how easily my body moved. I remembered my pole dancing class and how I’d shifted into another state of mind while I danced. I couldn’t even remember what I’d done, but whatever it was had drawn admiration from the other students. I felt like I was right on the edge of that other state of mind once more.
Chapter 8
I felt a hand on my hip. I smiled, thinking that Vincenzo had slipped out of bed and sneaked up on me. His touch reminded me to relax. I closed my eyes and our bodies swayed together. I made sure that my movements were as sensual as they had been the night before, as he had seemed to enjoy them then. In the midst of our dancing the ear buds popped out of my ears.
“That smells so good,” he whispered in my ear and pulled my body close against his. “Is it for me?” he asked.
My eyes popped open. My mouth dropped open and my stomach fluttered with arousal and anxiety. It wasn’t Vincenzo that had been dancing with me at all. It was Max. He must have used his key to let himself in.
“Max!” I shoved him away from me.
He looked confused and a little hurt. “I’m sorry, I really enjoyed the dance,” he sputtered out. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I just didn’t know it was you!”
“Huh?” Max looked terribly confused. “Who else could it be? I’m the only one with a key and we always have breakfast on Saturday morning.” He frowned.
“Oh, Max.” I sighed as I realized he was right. I remembered Vincenzo curled up in my bed and put my finger to my lips. “You have to go,” I whispered and tried to push him toward the door. “Please, you have to go right now.”
“Why?” He shook his head and refused to be moved. “I don’t understand what the problem is.”
“Please, Max. I’ll tell you later. Just leave.” I tried to usher him toward the door once more.
“Is this another one of those ploys to keep me on my toes?” he asked, looking as frustrated as I felt. “Really, Sam, if you didn’t want me to come today all you had to do was tell me.” He shook his head and turned toward the door.
“It’s not that, Max, please.” I groaned as I realized I was really upsetting him. “It’s just that I’m not alone—” I began to explain. Before I could finish getting the words out, another voice spoke over mine.
“Samantha.” Vincenzo’s rich voice called out from my bedroom. “Something is burning!”
Max’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening. But I didn’t have time to explain, because Vincenzo was right, something was burning.
“Oh!” I turned toward the stove, where a plume of smoke had begun forming.
“Sam, you should have just told me,” Max said. “You have someone here.” He shook his head, his face flushed. “How could I be so stupid? Is this all to make me jealous or something?”
I was too focused on the smoke to pay much attention to his words.
I grabbed the pan by the handle, causing my palm to burn. I cursed as I dropped it and spilled half of its blackened contents across the stove.
“Samantha, are you alright?” Vincenzo called out, and I could tell from the sound of his voice that he was heading out into the kitchen. I began to panic. If Vincenzo saw Max—if Max saw Vincenzo—these things could only happen to me!
“Max, please,” I said as I turned to face him with desperation. “Just go.”
He stared at me for a long moment, as if he was deciding what he really wanted to do. Then he cast a glare in the direction of my bedroom. For an instant I thought he might decide to confront Vincenzo. He turned and walked out of the apartment, and he wasn’t very quiet about closing the door behind him.
“Oh, Samantha,” Vincenzo said as he looked over the remainder of the breakfast I had been preparing. “You shouldn’t have, really.”
“I know,” I sighed as I leaned back against the sink.
I was staring at the door. What had Max meant by making him jealous? Had he meant what I thought he meant? Did it really bother him to see me with another man? If so, what did that mean?
“Here, I’ll make us something,” Vincenzo said as he tossed the pan into the sink.
“No, actually.” My voice wavered. “I think maybe you should go.”
“Go?” he asked and lifted an eyebrow. “Have I done something to upset you?”
“No, of course not. You were great,” I said and emphasized the last word. It was true; I was still tingling with the memories of what we had shared. “I just forgot that I had plans this morning. You know we got caught up in the heat of the moment last night—”
“I want it to be more than just a moment, Samantha,” he said and stepped close to me. “Don’t you?” He met my eyes intently.
I didn’t know what to say. This morning I had been visualizing our future, opening a restaurant together, having beautiful babies with accents, eating delicious meals every single night.
But then—there was Max.
Max, who looked as if he wanted to burn my apartment down because there was another man sleeping in my bed. Max, whom I had been longing to be with for over ten years, whom I had finally lost all hope of being with. I needed to know what he meant. I needed to know if there was a chance for us.
“I’m sorry, Vincenzo.” I shook my head. “I’m just not really available for a relationship right now.”
“You’re with someone?” he asked, sounding surprised.
“No—It’s not like that. I just—”
“I understand.” Vincenzo nodded before I could continue. “I’ll just get my things.”
As I watched him walk back into the bedroom I wondered if I should follow him in, if I should plead for his forgiveness, if I should give whatever spark was between us a chance.
When he stepped back out he met my eyes directly. “Just so you know, I don’t normally do this either,” he said, not looking at all pleased. Then he pushed past me and out the door of my apartment.
As it closed behind him, I realized I didn’t even have his phone number.
I certainly couldn’t go back to his class.
I rushed into my room and threw on some clothes. I knew exactly where Max would be going.
Chapter 9
I must have looked like a lunatic as I ran down the sidewalk after Max. But I didn’t care. I wanted an explanation for the way he had behaved at my apartment.
“Max!” I called out as he continued to walk down the street.
I ran fast until I caught up with him. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and refused to stop walking. “Max, what in the world do you have to be mad at me about?” I said, feeling completely frustrated and confused. “Because I had a man in my apartment?”
“You just should have let me know,” Max said with an edge to his voice. “I wouldn’t have walked into the middle of that if I had known what was going on.”
“I forgot,” I said. “I got caught up with Vincenzo. It was so sudden and—”
“Vincenzo,” he said and finally stopped walking to look at me. “I bet that isn’t even his real name.”
“Why would you say that?” I asked.
“Don’t you get it? That type of guy sets himself up as a teacher so he can get women to sleep with him.” He shook his head.
“No, that’s not true. Vincenzo wanted more than that—he told me so.”
“And?” Max asked as he rocked back on his heels and studied me. “What about you? Is that what you want?”
Everything in my body, my mind, and my heart wanted me to scream out that it was him I wanted, but I was still feeling nervous about revealing the truth.
“Max, what did you mean when you said I was trying to make you jealous?” I asked as I held his gaze and my breath.
“By bringing a man home, by not canceling breakfast with me,” he muttered and frowned. “I don’t get what you’re asking.”
“I’m asking, why would you be jealous?” I stared deep into his eyes. I waited for some sign that he was going to confess to having feelings for me. But he flicked his gaze away and looked down the block. He pursed his lips and then slowly relaxed as he turned back to look at me.
“You know, Sammy, I shouldn’t be jealous,” he said. “You have every right to be happy. You deserve to be happy.”
Single Wide Female: The Bucket List Mega Bundle - 24 Books (Books #1-24) Page 9