Wet (A Real Man #25) - Jenika Snow Page 0,16

mother had a black crystal and leather clutch in her hand, and my father was adjusting the collar of his shirt.

“You sure you’ll be okay tonight?”

I rolled my eyes at my mother’s worried tone. “I’ll be fine. I am an adult.” Despite being old enough to vote, my mother still treated me as though I was a child, not in the sense she restricted what I did, but more because she always had concern for my wellbeing. As mothers did.

“You know I worry when you’re alone in this big house.”

“Mom, I’ll be fine. I’ll probably just do a Netflix binge and call it an early night.”

I didn’t know how true that was, but it seemed like a good enough thing to tell them.

In truth, I’d probably go for a walk to clear my head. Of course, I didn’t tell them that. Despite the security cameras on the property and adequate lighting stationed everywhere, they weren’t all that approving of me walking around at night. And in all honesty, I didn’t much care to go creeping around when it was dark either.

But my head felt so cloudy, and my emotions were so conflicting. Walking and trying to purge my unrest seemed like the only good thing to do at the moment.

For the next ten minutes as they finished getting things organized to go, I stayed in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and just watching them. They’d been married for twenty years, together for twenty-two. They had the type of relationship you read about in books. My father doted on my mother, and she looked after him. They weren’t just married; they were a team. I knew without both of them having each other in their lives, they’d be lost. That was clear as day.

I wanted that one day. I wanted that connection with someone, that tie that bound us together. I wanted that with Gio.

I might only be nineteen, but I knew I wanted that as my reality as well as I knew my own name.

My parents left an hour ago, and for that time, I’d been sitting on the couch, staring at a movie playing on the screen in front of me, but I hadn’t been focused on it the entire time. I kept bouncing my leg anxiously, glancing at the back door. It was getting late, but that walk was sounding more tempting with each passing second.

I finally said fuck it, shut off the TV, stood, and made my way out to the patio. I slipped on my sandals before making my way across the stamped concrete patio and headed toward the grass. I stopped at the edge for a minute, right where the stone and the earth met. I tipped my head back and looked at the sky. It was so clear tonight, the sight of the moon high and bright, full, almost otherworldly as it washed a silvery glow across the property.

I could see a sprinkling of stars, brighter than even the diamonds on my mother’s jewelry.

And then I saw a shooting star, this flash of light that zipped through the sky. I felt like a child in that moment as I closed my eyes and made a wish. I wished that I’d get what I wanted, not with materialistic things, not with money or anything like that. I just wanted the love of a good man.

I wanted a lifetime of love with Gio.

What we’d done in the pool house had meant everything to me. And the remembrance of what Gio had said, at how he looked at me as he whispered things I’d only ever imagined in my wildest dreams, told me it meant the same to him.

So I found myself walking toward where they lived, my heart starting to beat a little bit faster with every step I took. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I was letting my body lead the way, was letting my heart make the decisions.

And before long, I saw the lights of the cottage. It was surreal the closer I got. What would I say to him when I saw Gio? What would I say to Alfonso or Maria on why I was showing up at their home so late, wanting to talk to their son?

When I was just a few feet from the cottage, I stilled, my footsteps faltering as I saw Gio sitting on the ground, his back leaned against the white picket fence that surrounded their home. My throat tightened; my mouth dried. He