“Was the boy okay?”
“He’s like a cockroach. I could cut his head off, and he’d still run around.”
She sighed at his unwillingness to give her a straight answer. “I know I have no right to tell you what to do, but I don’t like people being hurt because of me. If you want to blame anyone, blame me. Punish me. But please don’t keep hurting them. They didn’t do anything.”
He stared at her, his mouth hanging open. “You think I look at you that way?”
“When you attack people, it’s like you’re upset they’re messing with something that’s yours.”
He laced his fingers in his hair, tugging on a handful of the locks. “I have a problem with my temper. It’s just, I feel . . .” He hesitated, taking a deep breath. “Look, it’s not because I think you belong to me—it’s because I want you to be mine.”
Her brow furrowed. “Is there a difference?”
“That didn’t sound right. Christ, I care about you, okay? I overreact because I don’t want anyone to hurt you. And maybe that doesn’t make sense, considering I’m hurting you more than any of those assholes, but I don’t do it intentionally. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met. You can understand me the way no one else ever could.” He scooted closer to her. “La mia bella ragazza.”
“You know I don’t know what that means,” she said, blushing from the intensity of his stare.
He ran the back of his fingers along her flushed cheek. His touch was soft, and she leaned her head in his direction. “My beautiful girl,” he said.
She took in his expression. “You think I’m beautiful?”
“I don’t think you’re beautiful, Haven. I know you are.”
His words flustered her. “You are, too.”
He smirked. “You’re saying I’m beautiful?”
She nodded. “A beautiful person.”
“I’ve been called everything under the sun, but a beautiful person was never one of them.”
* * *
Never in Haven’s life had she encountered a disaster like the one that met them downstairs. Trash was scattered throughout the rooms, beer cans and empty bottles littering the tables and counters. Food was smashed into the floor, the house smelling wretchedly like the inside of a trash can. There was broken glass in the family room, furniture moved, and things out of place.
Haven stood at the bottom of the stairs, scanning the mess, as Carmine disappeared into the laundry room. He returned with some black trash bags. “You start in the kitchen, and I’ll go deal with whatever got broken. I know not everything survived the night intact.”
“You don’t have to do this,” she said. “I can get it.”
“I know you can, Haven,” he said. “Just let me try to help.”
She went into the kitchen and cleared off the counter, hearing noises every few minutes as Carmine tossed things around the family room. She got all the cans picked up and lugged the bag over to the side of the room. She was washing the dishes when Carmine appeared, dropping a second trash bag on the floor.
“You don’t have to do those by hand,” he said. “We have a dishwasher.”
“I don’t know how to operate it.”
Carmine opened the dishwasher and pulled out the top rack. “Get your hands out of that nasty water and fill this up.”
She looked at him cautiously. Considering he couldn’t operate a washing machine, she had a feeling he didn’t know what he was doing, but she conceded and loaded it with the dishes. When it was filled, he smiled proudly—whether proud of himself or of her, she wasn’t sure.
Carmine squeezed in some soap and latched the door, narrowing his eyes as he pressed a few buttons. It made noise right away and he snatched his hand away with surprise.
Haven laughed as soon as he walked out, knowing she’d been right—he was guessing.
She did some laundry before walking back into the kitchen. The moment she neared the sink, she hit a slippery spot, and her feet came out from under her. She grabbed the counter to stay upright and looked around, her eyes widening at the bubbles pouring out of the dishwasher.
“Carmine!” There was no way that was normal. Footsteps hastily approached as he sprinted into the kitchen. She opened her mouth to warn him, barely getting the words, “Watch out!” from her lips before he hit a patch of sudsy water and slid.
“Fuck!” he said, treading through the soapy mess to the dishwasher. Frantic, he pushed buttons and yanked on the door, trying to get it to stop. It continued to ooze bubbles, and he groaned as he slapped the front of it. Temper flaring, he kicked the door, and Haven winced as his foot left a small dent on the front.
He cursed and hobbled, smacking the buttons again until the dishwasher abruptly stopped.
“I think we have a little problem here,” Haven said, the entire thing too much for her to take. The kitchen floor was covered, and they’d managed to make a bigger mess than they’d started with. She cracked a smile, fighting to keep a straight face, and covered her mouth to quiet her impending giggles.
Carmine cocked an eyebrow at her. “Are you laughing at me?”
She laughed, her body shaking with amusement at his expression. She stepped away from the counter, not paying attention, and lost her footing in the suds. Carmine shot forward to catch her but skidded too, his feet coming out from under him. He knocked them both to the floor. She landed on her back with a thud, losing her breath as Carmine landed on top of her.
He pulled himself up, horrified. “Christ, I didn’t mean to knock you down! Are you hurt? Did I hurt you? Huh? Did I? Say something!”
She pushed herself up as he sat on the floor in front of her. Covered in bubbles, her back was soaked, and Carmine stared at her like she’d grown a second head. She shook again and covered her mouth to hold it in, but it was fruitless. She laughed uncontrollably, so hard her sides ached. “I think you did something wrong with the dishwasher, Carmine.”
He grabbed a handful of soap bubbles and flung them at her. She turned her head so they splattered her chest and cheek, and she didn’t hesitate before flinging some right back. They hit him directly in the face, and he closed his eyes as he wiped the bubbles away.
“I can’t believe you did that!” He lunged at her with a determined look on his face. She scampered backward, but he caught her before she could get away. He pushed her back on the floor and hovered over her, pinning her down in the hot sudsy water.
She flicked more bubbles at him, a little clump hitting his nose, but it backfired. Leaning down, he rubbed his face against hers, transferring them onto her. Haven cocked her head then, feeling brave, and kissed him. His lips were soft and wet, the flavor of him sweet but minty. There was a bitter tang there, and she wrinkled her nose. “You taste like soap.”
Chuckling, he grabbed her hand to pull her up and brushed some bubbles out of her hair. “How about we clean this mess up so we can talk.” He glanced around. “And nap. I’m definitely gonna need a nap.”
15
After the house was together, the kitchen floor so clean Carmine could see his reflection in it, the two of them headed upstairs. Haven went to her room to shower as Carmine stripped, tossing his clothes onto the massive pile of dirty laundry. He desperately needed them washed, but he felt like an asshole asking her to do it. Did girlfriends do that kind of stuff for their boyfriends? He wasn’t sure, considering he’d never had one before.
Hell, he wasn’t sure if she was his girlfriend. All he knew was she’d stolen his heart, and there was no way he could ask for it back. In such a short time she’d taken him over, as much a part of him now as the air he breathed.
Fucking thunderbolt.
He pulled on a pair of shorts and grabbed his stereo remote, scanning through stations as he plopped down on his bed. He was exhausted, his eyelids closing, and he drifted into a light sleep until the bed squeaked. Haven sat beside him, so he pulled back the comforter and motioned for her to join him.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said, lying down.
“I was resting my eyes,” he said. “You look better, by the way. Not to say you looked bad to begin with, just that you look good after your shower. Yeah, that didn’t sound right. Ignore me.”
She laughed at his tongue-tied rambling and reached out, hesitating with her hand midair. He smiled reassuringly and closed his eyes, enjoying her light touch as she explored his face. She ran her fingers down his nose and across his forehead before threading them through his hair.
When he looked at her again, her expression stunned him. She looked awestruck, her hand stilled on his cheek, her eyes glassed over with unshed tears. “Is something wrong?” he asked.
“Do you . . . ?” She stroked her thumb across his cheek, sending tingling through him. “Do you really feel that?”
“It’s like you have static under your skin.”
“What do you think it is?”
“Colpo di fulmine?” he suggested. She stared at him, and he smiled. “I guess you’re gonna want a translation.”
“Please.”
“It’s when you’re drawn to someone so forcefully that it’s like being struck by lightning.”
She stared at him. “Okay.”
“Is that an, ‘Okay, you’re an idiot, Carmine, but whatever you say,’ or is it an, ‘Okay, that shit makes sense?’”
“It makes sense,” she said. “I don’t know what to make of it. It’s all new, and I don’t know what you expect.”
“I don’t expect anything, tesoro,” he said. “I can’t lie, I’m attracted to you, but we’re only gonna do what you wanna do. We’ll be whatever you want us to be. But I just want a chance. I’m asking you for a chance.”
“A chance to what?”
A chance to what? A chance to prove himself? To be happy? To be trusted? To be loved? To love her? To finally be someone worthwhile? “Just . . . a chance. I can’t promise it’s gonna be easy, or that it’s gonna be all happiness. I’ve never done any of this before, so I don’t know what I’m doing. But I’ll try to be good to you.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing either,” she said.
“We can learn together. Just tell me what you want from me, and we’ll figure the shit out.”
She smiled, but he could sense her apprehension. “You make me happy. I, uh . . . I don’t like being here when you’re not around.”
That had to have been hard for her to admit. “I can’t predict the future, but I’ll do anything I can for you. You’re taking a chance on me. I appreciate it, and I’m not gonna take that shit for granted.”
He pressed his lips to hers softly, and she smiled when he pulled away. “Wow.” She ran her fingers gently across his lips. “Your mouth is surprisingly sweet for saying such naughty things.”
He burst into laughter. “I think you’re delirious. How about we take a nap before you tell me I smell like sunshine or something.”
