Twisted Fate (Dark Heart Duet #2) - Ella James Page 0,49

holding a plush, rectangular bag that’s got a fruit pattern.

“Hi.” Her eyes widen as she twists her mouth into a smile, and I realize she’s got on lipstick.

“Hi there,” I hear myself say.

She laughs, and I realize I should step back, let her step in. As soon as she’s in, I smell the perfume. Fucking shit, it fills my head and takes me back.

“So…” She’s laughing again as she holds the fruit bag out. “This is a cooler. I brought lemon cake. And pizza. Also, spiked cider. Because it’s cold, and when it’s cold, I like spiked cider.”

Holy shit, she’s red in the cheeks. Her eyes lock onto mine, and then her face goes slack and maybe even slightly pale.

I take the cooler from her, waiting for her to say more, but she just blinks up at me, looking stricken, and I want to touch her so bad—but I’m holding the bag. I hold it up more.

“I like lemon cake and pizza,” I say, making sure my voice sounds light and teasing. “Did you bring these things for me?”

I grin, almost laughing as she looks up at me with her still-wide brown eyes and a tentative smile.

“Yes,” she whispers. “They’re for you. Or…us.” She swallows. “I invited myself here for dinner. And a movie. E.T. is in the bottom of the cooler. It’s on VHS, and that’s all I could find.”

She looks into the living area, her eyes widening as she notices the flatscreen. “But maybe I don’t need to worry about that. You’ve updated more than I have.”

“I moved that little TV with the built-in VHS into the bedroom.”

“Was it in there?” She frowns. “I didn’t even notice.”

I lift my eyebrows, and she cups a hand around her face. I can see her suck a breath in, blow it out. She moves her hand and blinks up at me. “I’m at your house.” Her voice is a raspy whisper, and her cheeks are blazing red again.

“It’s not my house,” I cut in, smiling—because my heart’s sort of pounding.

“Summer house.”

“Just an old cabin.” My lips twitch.

“I’m at your cabin,” she whispers—she gets another big, deep breath—“because I couldn’t stay at mine.” Her eyes well as her gaze holds mine. “I wanted to see you. Again. And…I know it’s risky. I don’t even know if I can trust you…really.” Her lips tremble. “But I want to. It’s not logical. Nothing about this is. But this is the one chance I have to…be around you.” Her eyes tear up so much, I think she’s gonna cry, but her mouth does something—she presses her lips flat—and she doesn’t. “I thought how you got that quiet cabin you used to say you wanted. And there is no one here to see us.” She nods at my couch. “We could sit under a blanket. No parents would ask where our hands are.”

I put one of mine on her shoulder. “You know I’m okay, right? I’m fine.”

She nods, looking teary.

“You know you don’t have to trust me. Don’t trust anybody, tesoro. Questo è il modo più sicuro.”

She nods, so I know she understood my warning. “What is the point of tonight, for you, when tomorrow you can never see me again,” I ask in a whisper.

She replies, “Stasera è abbastanza.” Tonight is enough.

“No, non è abbastanza.”

I can see her eyes asking their questions—do I really mean that?—so I step toward her, wrap an arm around her back, and gently close the space between us. Just one arm, but it’s a hard hug—firm, undoubting. Just so that she understands it’s not really a risk to be here. If she wants to be here, I won’t have her worried, feeling like she’s taking chances.

“Anche un mostro può essere un angelo per una notte.”

She hugs me tight. “I don’t think you are a monster.”

I hug her back, and go on speaking in Italian. It feels somehow less direct than English. “Why is there no one else for the beautiful angel?” I ask, lightly clutching her chin so her brown eyes are forced to find mine. “Such a perfect angel, and she wants to dine with me?”

I’m trying to tease her, trying to make her smile or laugh—one of the awkward little laughs I saw her do sometimes on her campaign trail. Instead she bites down on her lower lip, and I can tell she’s half an inch from crying.

“Nessuna tristezza, bellissimo angelo.” I lean down and kiss her soft cheek. “No more tears. You want to eat pizza with