is Mother?” Carlo asks.
“She took a sleeping pill and passed out. She was really upset.” Emily sighs. “I don’t like everybody fussing over me. I get that it’s a big deal, like, fine; I could’ve almost died or whatever. But I didn’t. Hazel saved me.”
“How did you know what to do?” Carlo asks, finally turning to me.
With my finger, I save my place in the cookbook I was reading. “I took a first aid course before I started at the rec center. I wanted to be prepared. There was a module on first aid for the disabled. I never thought it would come in handy, but I guess life is full of surprises.”
“Yes,” Carlo says. His eyes roam over me. “Yes, it is.”
“Get a room, pl-ease!” Emily scoffs. “Seriously, bro, you’re devouring her with your eyes. That’s how I’d describe it in one of my books.”
“Emily—”
“Devouring,” she teases.
Carlo rolls his eyes at me. I find myself smiling, even as I tell myself that we can’t keep doing this. It’s like we’re on a teeter-totter at a playground, destined to go up and down forever. I’m hungry for some sense of stability. Some place I can point to and say: yep, I belong there. Yet I can’t look away, either. I want him. I’m happy for him. I’d be devastated if something had happened to Emily.
“Thank you,” he says sincerely. “I should’ve said that right away. Thank you so much, Hazel. Will you—” He hesitates, brushing a hand through his hair. “Will you have dinner with me tonight, just the two of us?”
“If I say yes,” I murmur, “will you promise to stop giving me the silent treatment for no good reason?”
He flinches as though I’ve just slapped him. He’s lucky a word-slap is all he’s getting, to be honest.
“Well?” I ask. “Because, seriously, Carlo, it got old like a week ago.”
“I’ve been busy,” he mutters. His eyes glare: I’m explaining myself for you. I’ve never done this before. Don’t be too hard on me. I can read him so easily now. It’s like we’ve known each other for years, not weeks. “Dinner. Me. You. Candlelight. Some champagne …”
“Hey!” Emily cries as Carlo stalks closer to me. His breath is so hot, tingling over my skin. “This is strictly a no-seduction zone!”
But it’s too late. Carlo’s lips are already on mine. A bloom of pleasure engulfs my face. Devours it, as Emily would say. I find myself letting out a moan that is completely inappropriate considering we’ve got company. I bite Carlo’s lip, mostly because otherwise I’m scared this’ll never stop.
“Fine,” I say, giving him a half-playful shove. “But just remember a couple of things. One: you only get so many chances. And two: a kiss doesn’t fix everything.”
Carlo grins. “Maybe a kiss doesn’t. But I can think of a few things that might.”
A thrill moves through me. My traitorous body gets hot. My thighs tingle. And I just want more, all the fricking time.
“Okay, like, ew,” Emily says. “This is getting next-level creepy now.”
We all laugh, Carlo most of all. I haven’t seen him look this boyish, well, ever. It’s like the gut punch of thinking Emily was in danger, and then the hallelujah moment of finding out she’s okay, has worn down some of his manly armor. But I’m not going to jump the gun here. I know what Carlo’s like. In a couple of days, he might be playing the Jerk-a-tron-2000 again.
If he does that, I promise myself, that’s it. It’ll be time for something drastic.
But tonight … Candlelight? Champagne? A beautiful dinner?
What sane woman could say no?
That evening, after I plow through some heavy paper grading, Carlo has a dining table set up for us on the balcony overlooking the garden. The tree lights glitter like jewels at the bottom of a pool of water up here. The fountain reflects the starlight. The night is warm and comfortable, even in my sleeveless form-hugging dress. It’s one of the fancy ones Carlo gave me, gorgeous with a sexy slit up the leg. I normally stick to my athleisure tights and cotton t-shirts, but I can’t say I don’t like how Carlo’s eyes stray to the thigh slit as he pulls my chair out for me.
“Are you trying to kill me tonight?”
“Maybe just a little.” I smile. “But you better be on your best behavior. We’re here for dinner, okay? Not for whatever twisted things go through that twisted head of yours.”
“My twisted head?” he laughs. “If I recall