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We’re currently out to breakfast for the first time as a couple in public, and despite him being retired, he does get stopped quite a few times by fans and photographers here and there.
Elio’s so damn happy that we can finally be a couple out in the open. He hasn’t let go of my hand since we got out of his SUV, and even now as we sit across from one another at the bistro-style table, my hand is firmly interlocked with his.
I order vegan pancakes, while Elio orders toast, hash browns, and bacon. I told him he could order eggs, but he refused.
His stubbornness to keep me safe is starting to become more endearing. God, this man is cute. I never thought I’d use that word to describe Elio Mazzo, but truthfully, beneath all of his exteriors, he’s a total softie.
Neither of us felt like cooking this morning after last night’s events, so we decided to venture out for breakfast. We’re at a cozy café down the road from the hospital, which only reminds me of my mother and our conversation from last night.
My head threatens to throb at the memory, but Elio prevents that from happening.
“Dolcezza,” he muses, rubbing a hand across his beard.
“Babe,” I hum, smiling at him like a girl in love. Because I am, very much so.
“Your page hit a hundred thousand subscribers today.”
I nearly spit my maple-flavored coffee out. “What? Seriously?”
Elio smiles proudly. “Yeah, I checked it when you were in the shower. You also got a couple of emails from potential sponsorship deals. Two of them are good offers that I think you should take.”
“Holy fuck,” I mutter, sitting back in my chair.
He chuckles, taking a sip of his water. “I’m proud of you, Jasmine. Your talent makes my belly very happy.”
“Thank you.” I pucker my lips and give him an air kiss.
Elio leans forward, his body nearly on the table. He presses his lips to mine, the roughness of his beard rubbing against my jaw as he kisses me so damn sweetly.
“I needed a real one.” He smirks, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied look on his face as he openly stares at my cleavage that’s on display from my tank top and cardigan that I’m wearing.
I shake my head at him, sipping my coffee when our food arrives.
The waiter places our plates down, and we thank him with a smile.
We dig into our food. Elio crunches a piece of crispy bacon between his teeth while I cut into my blueberry pancakes. I then pour a hefty amount of maple syrup on top, causing Elio to shake his head and chuckle at me.
“Mmm,” I moan around the fork in my mouth. These are the best vegan pancakes I’ve ever had. They’re so fluffy and taste exactly like—
Wait.
I drop my fork, the metal clattering against the porcelain plate.
Distantly, I hear Elio saying my name, but all I can focus on is the itchiness that’s spreading across my chest as my throat starts to tighten.
“Elio,” I croak, my voice barely audible as my eyes snap up to his.
He stands instantly, knowing exactly what’s happening. He’s always been overprotective about this, and his worst dream came true.
Elio empties my purse on the table, looking for my EpiPen, and when he finds it, he quickly jabs it into my thigh.
Immediately, my throat opens back up, my other symptoms slowly fading as well. I take deep, calming breaths as I try to ignore the craze that’s circling us. The waitress is asking someone to call 911. Everyone in the café is staring. A couple of people are even recording us.
“Jas, we need to get you checked out to be safe,” Elio says calmly, despite his eyes telling a different story.
I nod, unable to speak at the moment from the whirlwind of the last few minutes.
I’m in his arms before I can register what’s happening, clutching onto him as he begins to run with me in his arms.
