AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“There’s more?”
“This isn’t a Valentine’s Day thing. It’s a had-to-do-it thing.”
She smiled, unsure what he was going to pull out of that magic basket but certain it would be amazing. Then her heart stopped.
He set a small lump of a cake in front of her and poked a candle in the top. “Happy birthday, Erin.” He pulled a lighter from the basket and lit the candle.
It wasn’t a pretty cake or even a level cake. “Did you make that?”
He nodded. “I cheated and used a box. It’s just vanilla.”
“Just vanilla,” she repeated, her vision wavering as she stared down at the flickering flame.
He cleared his throat and sang softly, his eyes never leaving hers. “Happy birthday to you…” Each verse was more excruciating than the last, not because he was off key—Giovanni actually had a lovely crooning voice—but because no one, to her recollection, ever sang this song to her before.
Finn had always given her a birthday present each year when they dated, but he never sang and he never made her a cake. In grade school, her classmates often brought cupcakes in to celebrate their birthdays and the whole class would sing and clap and that student sometimes got to wear a special hat or lead the line that day.
She never brought anything in for her birthday, because no one at home acted as if it was special or made her something to bring. It was just another day, another year gone by. After a while, she believed her birthday wasn’t a big deal, because no one ever acted like it was.
“Make a wish.”
She looked up at him with flooded eyes, unable to prevent the tears from spilling over. Her throat tightened to the width of a pin, making it hard to talk or swallow. Her chest was hot and full, her stomach topsy-turvy like a ship lost at sea. She wanted to puke but also wanted to laugh or cry, and the strange thing was, all of those mixed up unpleasant emotions linked back to the incredibly satisfying happiness she felt in that moment. It was simply too much.
Could a heart break from too much joy or too much of a good thing? Hers seemed on the brink of shattering.
“Make a wish,” he repeated.
She didn’t know what to wish for. Friends? That the house sold? That her mom might someday find her? That she and Harrison could be close again? That her father was finally at peace? All of these things she wanted and worried for on a daily basis, but none of them felt wish worthy.
She held back her hair and leaned forward, setting her mind to what she wanted most at that moment.
I wish for him to always look at me the way he’s looking at me now. She blew softly and the candle extinguished, the scent of smoke and hot wax snaking through the air.
He grinned, swiping a finger through a glob of icing and holding it out for her. She sucked it into her mouth and when she looked up at him again, he tackled her to her back and kissed her, laughing and smearing a streak of frosting down her cheek.
They didn’t bother to find a fork. They fed each other bits of cake and he painted her lips and skin with strokes of sweet icing, licking each smudge away and leaving her wet and sticky.
The floor was hard under the blanket, but they were too content in each other’s arms to find a bed. One by one, the candles burned out. Giovanni feasted on her body, and for once, she didn’t panic or worry how things could go wrong. She simply savored the feel of his affection, pretending they could stay like this forever and his kindness would never end.
When she shivered, he lifted her in his arms and carried her to bed. The lights were off, but she wasn’t ready to sleep. She wasn’t ready to let this magical night end.
When he entered her again, he possessed her, warm and secure. His breath teased over her face, scattering soft kisses and whispering secret promises. The pain in her chest returned and the air in her lungs hardened, her stomach flipping and her eyes prickling as her mind tried to find balance among so many bubbling, happy emotions.
That night, Giovanni didn’t just sleep with her. He made love to her. His deep affection was evident in every touch and kiss.
Did that mean he loved her? Did she want him to love her?
Of course, she wanted to be loved, all of her life she dreamed of someone loving her, but not just any love, because some loves were selfish and some loves turned bitter. She wanted a man to love her like the stars loved the sky.
Could he love her that way? Did she need him to love her that way? And didn’t he deserve the same? She realized then and there, that the sloshy feeling in her stomach, the tightness in her chest, was, in fact, love.
She knew she’d fallen in love with him the moment she worried if she could love him the way he deserved, as deeply as the stars loved the sky.
CHAPTER 19
“What does your mom drink?” Erin asked, searching the Italian labels on the cabernet shelf at the liquor store.
“Whiskey.”
