Page 73 of The Fall Affair

Allegra rounded the corner, and I watched her walk toward the car. The sunlight caught her golden-brown hair, bringing out streaks of honey. Her sundress clung to all the right places, the hem swaying around her thighs as she moved.

My gut tightened. Christ, she was gorgeous—the kind of beauty that could make a sane man do reckless things, just for the chance to touch her. To taste her. To trace every curve of her body.

I raked a hand through my hair, second-guessing everything. Maybe I should’ve taken whatever she was willing to give because whether I had her or not, it was going to be painful when she left.

Allegra slid into the passenger seat and tucked the paper bag in her hands at her feet.

“Get what you came for?”

She nodded, not adding more, so I started the car and let the low rumble of the engine fill the silence between us. When we got on the highway, Allegra leaned forward and turned on the radio. Two days ago, on our way down, we hadn’t needed it. We’d talked and laughed, told stories the entire drive. Now the music felt like a buffer, a way to keep the silence from becoming even more uncomfortable than it already was.

We drove like that for hours. A few short words here and there—me telling her I needed to stop for petrol, her asking if the music was okay after she changed the station because it had grown staticky. But no real conversation. I stole more than a few glances at her side of the car, but she was always looking out the window.

By the time we pulled up at her house, my neck was achy and shoulders tight. Allegra unbuckled her seat belt and turned to me with a faint smile. “Thank you again…for everything.”

She leaned in, kissed my cheek, and opened the car door before I could get a word in. Walking up the path, she never looked back as I sat there gripping the steering wheel, wondering if I’d just let the best thing I’d found in a long time slip right through my fingers.

Chapter 24

Matteo

12 years ago

“TUA MAMMA È a casa?” Is your mom home?

I looked over at Bianca and grinned. “Nope. È andata a Milano con mia sorella a prendere delle botti.” Nope. Drove up to Milan with my sister to pick up barrels.

“E il tuo papà?” And your dad?

“Fuori tutto il giorno.” Out all day.

She bit her bottom lip, eyes glinting. “Quindi abbiamo di nuovo la casa tutta per noi…” So we have the house all to ourselves again…

I didn’t say anything, just reached for her hand and tugged her to me over my Vespa, kissing her slowly and deliberately. My heart was already hammering, just thinking about spending the day in bed.

Last week had been the first time, for both of us. We hadn’t planned it. Hadn’t even talked about it. But we were alone in the house, and the moment had felt right. Bianca and I had been together a few months now. After Izzy decided to stay in Cambodia after last summer, it took me six months to move on. Then Bianca made it easy. Everything about her was easy. But it wasn’t only the physical stuff. Like today, she’d showed up at my Saturday morning football practice and sat on the bleachers, smiling like it was worth getting up early to watch me play.

I handed her the extra helmet I’d started to keep strapped to the handlebars and tossed my cleats into the storage compartment under the seat before straddling the scooter. She got on behind me, wrapped her arms tight around my stomach, and we took off. The breeze was warm, the air smelled like crushed rosemary, and the late-morning drive around winding roads tasted a lot like freedom.

Things were good, like maybe I was finally living the way I should. Final year of high school, hot girlfriend, everything coming together.

Then we pulled into my driveway. And everything fell apart.

There was someone sitting on the front lawn, cross-legged in the grass, picking at a cluster of daisies like she belonged there.

Izzy.

My chest locked up.

Bianca leaned forward, squinting. “Chi è quella?” Who is that?

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I just pulled up to the top of the long driveway, gravel crunching under the tires, and stared at the girl on the lawn.

Izzy looked up and smiled. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and stood slowly, brushing off her jeans like she hadn’t just risen from the dead. I was angry, but I couldn’t help but notice her hair was longer. Sun-lightened. She looked older, but somehow still the same. She smiled again, and my heart lurched in my throat.

I parked and swung my leg over the bike. “What are you doing here?”

“We moved back.” She twirled a daisy in her hand. “A few days ago.”