She flips the ceramic bowl that was already on the table—that I honestly thought was meant for soup—and lets the waiter fill it up.
“We drink wine in these like in the good old days.”
The waiter fills my bowl with an amused twist of his lips. He must get this confused reaction a lot from tourists.
Chiara raises her bowl after the guy walks away. “What shall we toast to?”
“How about an unforgettable weekend?”
She smiles, and her entire face lights up. I feel a sharp pang in my chest, and suddenly I understand why I’m having such a visceral reaction to her. She reminds me of Jamie, the best friend I lost when I was a teen. Only Jamie was a guy, and I wasn’t remotely attracted to him. He and Chiara share the same vulnerability masked by a happy-go-lucky personality though. I grin at her in return, trying not to show how much this revelation is doing my head in.
“Cheers to that.”
Chiara places the bowl back on the table, laces her hands together, and rests her chin on top of them. “So, shall we establish some ground rules for this epic weekend?”
I lean back and cross my arms. “Okay. Rule number one, we won’t speak about your family.”
Her eyes flash with an emotion I can’t discern before she says, “Deal. My turn. We won’t trade specific details about our life, like jobs, where we live, etcetera.”
I stare at her through slits but with a smirk on my lips. “Why? Are you afraid I’m going to turn into a stalker after all?”
Chiara shakes her head and smiles ruefully at her wine. “No, it’s not that.” She pauses to lick her lips, looking at me again from under her eyelashes. “I have the feeling that the more I know about you, the harder it will be to let you go.”
I clench my jaw hard and don’t say anything for several beats. I can tell Chiara is interpreting my silence the wrong way by how her eyebrows furrow together, marring her otherwise smooth skin. I reach for her chair, pulling it across the floor with a loud screech until she’s sitting next to me.
“Now, that’s better. You were too far from me.” I touch her cheek with the back of my hand as I stare deep into her eyes. “I agree to your rule only because it’s going to be hard for me as well.”
Her breath catches at the same time her lips part, making it impossible for me not to shorten the distance between us and kiss her again. But I’m greedy, and kissing her doesn’t satisfy my hunger. I want more.
I slide my hand up her thigh and under her dress, stopping just a few inches away from her warm pussy. I don’t dare go any farther, not in the middle of the restaurant anyway. Instead, I make lazy circles with the tips of my fingers, smiling against her lips when I feel the goose bumps form on her skin.
A throat clearing nearby makes me pull away, and I level the waiter with a glower, not appreciating the interruption.
“Il antipasti,” he says before he places the tray of cold cuts in front of us.
“Grazie mille,” Chiara replies without making eye contact with the man.
Ah shit. I made her uncomfortable. I better behave until I can get her alone.
We eat our food and drink our wine, but we both have the same sense of urgency. We don’t linger.
Back in the car, it’s a Herculean effort to keep my hands to myself, but I push through the urge to stop on the side of the road to steal a few more kisses from her.
“I thought today was going to be the worst day of my life,” Chiara says as she sticks her hand out the window.
“I’m glad it didn’t turn out that way. It will only get better from here.”
I sense her stare, so I peel my gaze off the road for a second.
“Cocky, aren’t you?”
“Nope, just being realistic, babe.”
Her nose wrinkles, and she pouts. “Don’t call me that. I hate that endearment.”
“Sorry. What should I call you, then? Chibi?”
“No!” she shouts, and I have to glance at her again.
“Isn’t that what Max called you? I thought it was cute. It fits you.”
She crosses her arms in front of her chest and levels me with a glare. “No, it doesn’t. Chibi means small in Japanese, and it’s also a style of caricature where the characters are super cute and tiny.”
“See? It fits you.” I laugh.
“Stronzo!” She hits my arm. “Keep calling me Chibi and you won’t get any booty tonight.”
“Okay, okay. I won’t. What does stronzo mean? I know it can’t be anything good.”
She faces forward and says under her breath, “Asshole.”
I reach out and squeeze her thigh through the skirt of her dress. “I promise I won’t call you Chibi again.”
“Uh, I don’t know. I think you need to grovel a bit more.”
“Is that so? What would you have me do?”
“You’ll have to wait and see. How far are we from your hotel, anyway?”
