“It’s fine, Alistair. I’m over the shock of finding out the truth about you. I’ve moved on.”
“You have?” The surprise in his voice makes me look at him.
I can’t read the emotion shining in his eyes. Is he relieved or upset?
“Of course. You don’t have to worry about me making a scene.”
He shakes his head and pulls his gaze away. “That wasn’t what I was worried about.”
I open my mouth to demand he elaborate further but decide not to. Better not to open that can of worms.
“What else is there in that box?” I ask instead.
Alistair pulls out a box with a label that says “Sogni di fiori e nuvole, regista Giulio Bertollini.”
“Holy shit. Is that Giulio’s newest movie?”
“I believe so.”
Alistair opens the box, revealing a reel of film inside.
“Ah, man, it’s not digital? I’d love to watch it,” I say.
“We have a projector here. If we finish unpacking and storing in the next hour, we could watch it.”
I whip my face toward him once more, but he’s not looking at me. He’s busy taking more items out of the box.
Did he just suggest we watch a movie together? Maybe now that I told him I’ve moved on, he’s no longer concerned about our summer fling. Then why the hell did he kiss me in his office and keep throwing heated glances my way during the volunteers’ meeting? He seems pretty unfazed right now while I’m here freaking out.
Get your act together, Chiara. You told him you’ve moved on. He doesn’t have anything to worry about any longer.
The knowledge feels like a dagger twisting in my heart, but I force myself to ignore the pain. It seems I’ll be forever fated to live in this state of agony. First pining for Pietro, now Alistair. It makes me doubt my own feelings. Maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment and I only want what I can’t have.
The idea that I’m not really in love with Alistair makes it easier for me to carry out the task. My heart is still heavy, but now my brain is in control. Every time there’s a lurch in my chest, I start to chant silently, I’m not in love. I’m not in love.
Alistair and I keep the conversation to a minimum, and before I know it, all the containers are empty and things are stored. I blow a wisp of hair off my face as I look at the clock mounted on the wall. It’s only seven thirty.
“That’s it?” I ask.
“Yeah. This was one of the easiest tasks on the list. It’s probably why Mrs. Weiland assigned it to Lucas.”
“Lucas? Oh, you mean that obnoxious guy.”
“Yep. Now he’s stuck with something much more taxing.” Alistair grins at me while his eyes shine with mischief, melting my heart on the spot. Damn it!
I look away so he can’t see the yearning in mine. “Well, I’d better get going, then.”
“You changed your mind about watching the movie?”
I freeze for a split second before looking at him again. Shit. I forgot about it. I really should say no, but the prospect of being one of the first people to watch Giulio’s newest movie is too tempting to pass up.
“Are you sure? I mean, would that be okay?”
Alistair’s neutral mask slips for a moment when he frowns and flattens his lips. “Yes, Chiara. It would be perfectly fine.”
With movie reel in hand, he walks to the back of the room where there are a few chairs in front of a white screen. I take a seat, feeling jittery while Alistair sets up the projector. Fifteen minutes later, he chooses the chair farthest from mine, leaving a gap between us. Not that it does any good. In this confined space, I can’t escape his alluring presence. But I will push through it. This is the ultimate test.
Once the movie starts, it gets easier to ignore Alistair’s presence. I’m sucked into the story right away. That’s how good Giulio’s movies are. I don’t spare a single glance in his direction until we come to a scene that changes everything. It’s a love scene, which in Giulio’s movies translates into an extremely graphic and erotic sex scene. It’s impossible not to get turned on. Now all I can think about is the man in the room with me and how I want him to enact what we’re seeing on the screen. I rub my legs together because the constant throbbing in my core is almost too painful.
Alistair groans, a sound I don’t think he intended to make. Like a fool, I turn to him and catch him adjusting his pants.
Hell. He’s as aroused as I am.
Sensing my stare, he looks at me. His eyes are pained, and his jaw is clenched tight. My breathing turns shallow, and I know if I stay here, I’ll end up doing something very foolish like throwing myself at him.
“Chiara, I—” he starts, but I can’t bear to hear the end of his sentence.
I jump out of my chair and say, “I have to go.”
Like a scared little mouse, I run out of the room before Alistair can stop me.
24
Chiara
Through some snooping—aka asking one of the ladies in the administration department—I learned Alistair isn’t teaching any other class at DuBose besides writer’s room and film history. He also doesn’t come to school on Thursdays. That made my day more bearable, but come Friday, I chicken out and skip his class. I couldn’t face him after that charged moment we shared in the school’s basement. I need more time to recover from that.
I do show up for creative writing in second period though. We have to write a short scene, and to my dismay, I wrote a very smutty one. I didn’t realize what I was doing until Robbie looks over my shoulder and giggles.
