Never Truth

18

The house smelled like minestrone, just as I remembered. I didn’t spend a ton of time at her place when we were younger, especially when puberty hit and her dad got more protective. Most of our time together was spent at school, but I did visit her house on occasion, and the place often smelled like minestrone. I had mixed emotions about being there. Part of me dreaded the stifling awkwardness of sitting near her and knowing she hated me. I hadn’t had a particular plan going into our little lunch setup, but I still managed to surprise myself at how I handled the situation. I had needed to ease tensions and get her to let me in, but I hadn’t intended to cut myself open for her. The words fell from my mouth before I could stop them. When I saw her look at me with such raw pain, I couldn’t help myself. I had needed her to know she wasn’t alone. My sentiment wasn’t exactly well received. At least our initial reunion was over—I had known it would be the hardest part. Dinner might turn out to be just as much a cluster f**k as lunch had been, but part of me didn’t care. Part of me would still rather get to see her, touch her, smell her, than leave her in peace. Yeah, I was an asshole. Of course, when Enzo suggested I stopped by for dinner, it wasn’t like I could refuse. If I’d had a choice, would I have taken it? Probably not. I wasn’t the playground protector Sofia had grown up with. The boy she’d known grew into a hardened, selfish man. There was a time I would have done anything to keep her from being upset, but now, I’d spent too many years looking out for my own best interests. After feeling my lips on her skin, smelling the berries and cream scent on her hair, and seeing the flecks in her hazel eyes, I wanted more—whether it hurt her or not. When Mrs. Genovese directed me to the dining room, I noted that the wallpaper had been changed, but everything else had remained the same. A long cherry red table with eight chairs filled the room, and a formal china cabinet loaded with breakables lined the back wall. Four places had been set on one end—the head of the table, one on the near side, and two on the far side. The two seats together were clearly intended for us, and I wondered how Sofia would respond. “So, Nico, Enzo tells me you’re quite the professional boxer.” Carlotta looked at me expectantly even though she hadn’t technically asked me a question. “Yes, ma’am. It’s harder to find competition in the heavyweight division, so I don’t fight all that often anymore.” “I’ll bet. You ended up growing so much since we saw you last! How tall are you now?” “Six four. The last four inches didn’t hit me until my twenties.” “Isn’t that something? Of course, you were always big for your age, but still … I almost didn’t recognize you!” We both gave a small laugh just as Enzo joined us at the table. Mrs. Genovese poured some wine, and we visited about inconsequential matters as we waited for Sofia to join us. All the awkward small talk had been worth it the moment she stepped into the room. Hair pulled up in a twist, Sofia stepped gracefully into the dining room in a vibrant red dress that clung to her lithe frame, accentuating her modest curves. She wore a broad smile painted blood red to match her dress. She was sexy as f**k, and my d**k stirred to life just at the sight of her. This was not the same woman I had encountered the day before. Sofia had come to dinner ready to play, and I was more than game. Her reaction at lunch had been raw and honest; this was a show … a challenge. I lived for a good challenge. “Sorry to keep you all waiting. I had to freshen up.” She walked without hesitation to the seat next to me as I stood to help her into her chair. “Thank you, Nico.” “My pleasure,” I responded, my voice a sensual caress. She pretended to be unaffected, but the hairs along her arms stood in response to my voice. I f*****g loved it. Sofia and I never had the opportunity to fully explore each other sexually, and it was clear I had missed out. We were so in tune with one another that her body couldn’t help but respond to mine. s*x with her would be worth the one-way ticket to hell I would earn, if I wasn’t headed there already.