I spin on my heel, pacing back toward the rec center. I still need to lock up. From further down the lot—out of view of the center—comes a meaty thwack, presumably some Italian-on-Italian violence. I hope it hurts.
I’m just about to turn the key when I feel Carlo behind me.
Damn, he really is like a shadow.
Did I say that out loud? It’s hard to tell with my heart pounding fiercely inside my rib cage.
I turn on him. “What do you want?” I ask plainly.
The question seems to take him off guard. He flinches. I get the feeling that even he doesn’t know the answer to that.
“Seriously, like, what the hell do you want from me? Because you got it the other night, didn’t you? And now you’re just hanging around. Why? Do you want to marry me? Or is it just that you get to control everything else
