Tears filled Gabriella's eyes, ones she couldn't hold back. She covered her mouth with her hands, concealing her goofy grin, stifling the sob that threatened to escape, as emotion flooded her. He'd made her a friendship bracelet, a real one, with string he'd braided together by hand, the pattern all messed up in the middle like he'd lost his place and forgot how to do it, but yet he forged on. He went out of his way and had gone to a class, a class that was probably full of excited children, making presents for their friends.
"I bet it was nothing but kids, wasn't it?" she asked, her voice strained as she tried not to cry. "A bunch of little girls?"
"Yeah," he mumbled. "I'm probably on a watch list somewhere now. You should've seen the way they looked at me, grown ass man taking a kid's workshop. Not my finest moment. I told them it was for my girlfriend, but I don't think they bought that shit."
Gabriella couldn't hold it back anymore, tears streaming down her cheeks as laughter burst from her. She threw herself at him, clinging to him, hysterical. "You're such a friggin idiot."
He sighed. "I know I am."
"Never change," she whispered. "I swear to God, I don't know what I would do if you ever changed your stupid ways."
"Yeah, well, I can pretty much promise that won't happen. If I haven't learned my lesson yet, I doubt I ever will."
"Good." She pulled back, grasping his face, staring into his eyes. "I'll happily drink your poison."
"I'll never ask you to." He grabbed her hand and pulled it away from his face to loosely knot the bracelet around her wrist. "Although, someday I will ask you to marry me. Someday. Because your family will kill me if I don't, so prepare yourself."
She ran her fingertips along the bracelet, swallowing thickly. "What kind of benefits does that come with?"
"Benefits?"
"Yeah, I've already got rides from work and orgasms and macaroni and foot rubs. What do I get if I marry you?"
"Jewelry?"
"You just gave me a bracelet."
"My last name?"
"I prefer Russo."
"Half of everything I've got?"
"I think I've got more than you."
"Conjugal visits?"
That one made her pause. Huh.
"Come on," Dante said, pulling out his keys before draping his arm over her shoulder. "Let me drive you home from work one last time, you know, for old time's sake, while you consider if marrying me is worth it if it means I'll still get to fuck you when I inevitably land my ass in prison someday."
Traffic was light on the drive to Little Italy. They encountered more green lights than red. Not a single police car trailed them. No one cut them off or got in their way. When they arrived at the apartment, a car parked in front of the building pulled away. Dante swung right into the spot, parallel parking to perfection.
He'd never been a big believer in luck. If it existed, he'd been dealt the shittiest hand around. But as everything seemed to fall into place, things turning around, he had to wonder if maybe it was his time.
Maybe he'd just been stockpiling luck over the years, hoarding it like a crazy cat lady with a house full of shit, and time had come for him to cash in his chips.
"I'm really sorry, you know," Gabriella said, taking his hand as he stepped onto the curb, pulling him to a stop beside the car. People moved past them, going about their business. "It wasn't right that I kept the truth from you."
"I get it," Dante said. "It wasn't your secret to tell. Besides, there's something I should've told you. Something I did last year… something you deserve to know."
Matteo. Dante's lips twitched as he tried not to sneer at the mention of that guy. "I just figured, in the name of full disclosure, you should know in case that changes things."
"Pfft, please, you're stuck with me."
"Sounds nice." Dante leaned over to kiss her. "Stuck with you. Sticking it in you. Same thing, right?"
"Pretty much."
"You want to go do that now?"
"I want you to go shower, honestly."
Dante laughed, about to suggest they multi-task, when an excited voice cut through their conversation. "Holy shit!"
Genna burst out of the building, eyes wide, her expression lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. She barged over, pushing past him, purposely knocking him out of the way on her