Page 27 of Her Dirty Secret
“I wanted to leave you alone. To let you yell at me when you were ready.” There’s a soft thud on the door. His head? His hand? I’m almost curious. “But your brother, he told me not to let you do this. To make you listen. It almost made me laugh, Cara Mia. He of all people should know that nobody can make you do anything.”
Make me. The words ring through my head. Back off, I say. Make me, he says. I shake my head, putting my hands over my ears. No. You’re not allowed in my head anymore.
Through my fingers I can tell Alessandro is still talking. It’s not until the talking stops that his words sink in. My brother told him. But that can’t possibly be true. Bryce wouldn’t tell Alessandro anything of the sort. Would he? More lies. Or are they?
Just like I knew it would, his voice goes away. But now I have something else to keep me awake tonight.
* * *
I wake up cotton-mouthed, with a pounding headache. Geez. I’m never going to learn my limits with booze, am I? I get in the shower, hoping the hot water will do something for my aching head. But as soon as I’m in there, it wakes me up enough to remember that I had a visitor last night. And I remember enough of what he said to change my usual plans for the day of haplessly drinking and playing music.
Once I’m dried and dressed, I call Bryce.
“Oh, good, you’re not dead,” he greets me. “I take it the Italian must have paid you a visit then?”
I roll my eyes. Never one to mince words, my big brother. “Did you really send him here?”
“That I did. Now stop using me as an excuse. If you want to dump the bastard, step out of my shadow first. And while I’ll deal if you decide not to, you know I’d be more than happy if you did.”
“I don’t know. You’ve got a pretty big shadow,” I grumble. Seems like he’s always up in my business anyway.
He laughs. “You’re a big girl. Figure it out. But now that you’ve emerged, I expect you to be at brunch this Sunday. Mom’s going out of her mind worrying about you. If you’re not there and presentable I’m coming after you. For real this time.”
“Fuck you,” I grouse. No mercy, this one.
“Love you too, Em. See you Sunday.” And he hangs up.
Guess my reign of solitude is at an end.
I find something presentable to wear and get ready to go out. I’m going to need food before I can deal with anything.
But when I open the door, I’m stopped short by an obscenely large vase full of purple hyacinths on my doorstep. I drag them inside, debating whether to throw them out. With a sigh, I pluck the card out. Might as well.
I never asked what your favorite flower is. I hope that you’ll tell me someday. Forgive me, please, Cara Mia.
I make to tear up the card, but my gut protests. The rest of his words from last night come rushing back in a booze-stained swirl. And while I can’t bring myself to get rid of his apology, I also can’t bring myself to believe him. There’s no point. It’s over. Even if he’s no longer my dirty secret, the fact remains that I never meant for it to turn into anything. Bryce is right. I’m going to have to dump him in a way that puts an end to things once and for all.
* * *
A solid lunch and a few texts with Sera later, and I’m headed to Alessandro’s place. While it’s less than a ten-minute bus ride, I’m too impatient to wait, so I walk the twenty-five or so minutes into downtown from Capitol Hill. For October the weather’s not bad. Fifty-eight degrees and partly cloudy, it’s the perfect day for jeans, a light flannel, and some cute sneakers. Not that I’m trying to look cute for him. Though I’m not above rubbing it in either.
He lives in one of the monstrous skyscrapers near the library, and the elevator ride up to his floor is annoyingly long.
Finally, I arrive and head down the long hall to his door. I have to talk myself through every step, still not sure exactly what I’m going to say. And where I find the courage to knock, I’ll never know.
The door swings open moments after I do, and Alessandro stands there looking ridiculously perfect in a black T-shirt and black sweats. Why, why does he have to be so good-looking?
I clear my throat and deliver the words every man fears the most. “We need to talk.”
One of his eyebrows jumps, but he moves quickly to hide his shock, stepping back to let me in.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he replies evenly. “Come in.”
I step inside and check out his bachelor pad while he closes the door behind me. It’s pretty freaking nice, with richly dark leather furniture, and huge windows that let in as much light as is possible for fall in Seattle.
“Can I get you something to drink?” he asks politely from beside me.
I turn toward him and shake my head. “No, thank you.”