It isn’t until later, when I excuse myself and head up to my room, that I realize he never corrected his sister when she said that we were together.
Eleven
Grace
Time is a funny thing.
It’s been nearly a week since Claudio’s sisters were here.
It’s been the slowest week of my life.
Time has absolutely been dragging on by, which for a writer, is often a good thing because it always feels like we never have enough time to write.
But it’s different now.
Claudio has put some distance between us. It’s like what Maria said about Jana shocked him into remembering that I’m just as tied up in Jana as he is. Before he was all flirty banter and simmering looks, and now, well, it’s not that he looks at me coldly … his gaze is still warm, his smile still genuine.
It’s that it’s like he pulls his eyes away quicker, his smile fades before mine does, and before there were many instances of him getting in my space, asking me questions, always around me. Now he gets up and goes to his studio, and the door closes and that’s it. I’ll see him doing something with Vanni, but it seems like father and son bonding and I don’t want to get involved. The only time I see him is during mealtimes, the only chance for us to talk.
But the problem is, once the meal is over, it all comes to an end. We go our separate ways again.
It shouldn’t matter what Claudio does. It’s his house and he has his own busy life, and I’m…just the guest.
But when you get used to something and it’s taken away…
Well, sometimes you end up wanting it more.
And this week has dragged on because I know I have two opportunities to be with him again. There’s tonight, for the INXS concert, although Vanni is coming with us too. And then there’s tomorrow night for the gallery.
So, yeah. I’ve been reduced to pining for the moment to be alone with him again and it’s fucking killing me.
Not to mention it’s killing my book. It’s hard to focus and concentrate when your mind keeps being pulled elsewhere. Which means I’m kind of screwed, because it’s a damned if you do, damned if you don’t situation. Either way, Claudio is on my mind too much for my own good.
“Are you ready!?” Vanni yells from outside my bedroom door, immediately pounding his fists on it.
I laugh to myself and head over to the door, opening it.
He’s on the other side, wearing an INXS shirt that hangs to his knees that I assume his dad got him, and he’s so freaking adorable.
“I’ll be ready in a couple of minutes,” I tell him. I just have to do something with my hair. Otherwise I’m ready to go in my jean shorts and black tank top. No concert shirts for me. “You know, you’re not supposed to wear the band’s shirt to the concert.”
Vanni’s nose wrinkles. “Why not?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. It’s an unwritten rule.”
“Well that’s stupid,” he says, pulling at his shirt and staring at it. “Are we supposed to pretend that we’re not there to see the band?”
I laugh. “Good point.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “I don’t think that’s a rule. I think you’re just jealous that my father gave me this shirt and you didn’t get one.”
Again, I’m grinning. “Okay, Vanni. That’s it. You got me. I’m jealous.”
He shrugs, raising his chin haughtily. “It’s natural,” he says with a flourish of his hands.
Then he turns and runs down the stairs.
I roll my eyes and head back into my room, deciding to pull my hair back into a high ponytail, my minor contribution to the eighties. I grab my crossbody purse and head down to the living room.
Claudio is sitting in the armchair, back to me, Vanni on the couch across from him.
“She’s finally ready,” Vanni exclaims dramatically, as if he wasn’t just at my door.
Claudio turns his head to look at me, his eyes coasting up and down my body, leaving a trail of heat where they’ve been.
He smiles.
And goddamn it.
He’s completely disarmed me with a simple look. He can’t even exist anymore without my heart tripping over itself, without my knees feeling weak. I can’t even be sure that my feet are holding me up.
You’re a hot mess, Grace.
“No dress?” he asks, getting to his feet, stopping a few feet away.
I lick my lips, my throat feeling dry. “Sorry to disappoint you.”