PRESLEY
It'd been silent for the past hour in the car. He'd somehow managed to convince the McDonald's workers into creating chicken nuggets out of nowhere though they'd ran out earlier.
I'd chowed down the six-piece chicken nugget meal along with large fries and the milkshake, and now I was eyeing the second McDonald's bag he'd placed beside the gear.
I didn't know if he was planning on finishing it but something inside me told me Silvio Rossi wasn't a McDonald's fan.
Out of nowhere, he caught my curious gaze in the car mirror and reached over to place the heavy McDonald's bag in my lap.
I tried not to notice the flash of golden skin exposed from the tiny move, and the inky tattoos. Just as quickly, I'd averted my eyes away.
Octavius and the rest of the guys always had tattoos every single place where there was any skin possible—I never understood the idea of getting a tattoo because I had a low pain tolerance but I had to admit, it was rather attractive.
A deep grunt escaped his mouth as he continued driving almost like it pained him to speak to me. I guess we were back to silence with each other. "It's for you." He told me, never sparing me a glance. "I didn't know how much you wanted, so I bought extra in case."
"Oh, thank you." I murmured softly, glancing over to the driver's seat and craned my head slightly to stare at him.
This man was somewhat of an enigma. I didn't understand why he cared about my hunger or why he offered me a ride. The Silvio Rossi I knew in the beginning of my friendship with Finley would have never cared about what the hell I wanted.
He avoided me in every single aspect; If we were seated beside each other at an event, he would either switch seats with Beast or completely move to another seat. And now, he was here, driving me around to McDonalds and ordering me chicken nugget meals.
Bizarre.
I thought he wouldn't have responded to my words of appreciation but I was a bit surprised when he muttered in a low voice, "You're welcome, Ms. Carmichael."
Oh. We were back to that now, weren't we?
I didn't say anything else for the rest of the ride, only quietly chewed on my chicken nuggets and took interest in the road signs, acting like they were the most interesting things I had ever laid my eyes upon.
Every few minutes, my gaze would coast over to Silvio who wouldn't even pay me a glance though I knew he could probably feel my glare on him. I wanted to know what he was thinking.
He pulled into the underground parking garage of my loft-style apartment, killing the engine with a twist of his finger, and finally for the first time since we'd started driving back, he gave him his full and undivided attention.
The moonlight reflected through his beautiful face, the soft pools of hazel in his eyes appeared more purple and brilliant. "Have a good night, Ms. Carmichael."
"And you too, Mr. Rossi." I responded, the harsh tone beneath my voice at how dismissing he spoke to me. A muscle ticked in his jaw when I'd used his last name once again to address him.
I had a feeling he didn't like the formality because of how distant it sounded. Almost like we didn't know each other but when a man pretended not to acknowledge your existence for about two years, it came back in the form of a petty ass woman with the name of Presley Carmichael.
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I didn't say anything else before grabbing my purse and made a beeline for the door. Just before I could open the door, his smooth, dulcet voice murmured, "Lock your doors and windows."
Almost like he could read my routine for the past three years, I couldn't help but be frozen in my tracks.
He raised an expectant brow when I'd stared at him a little too long, brushed a gloved hand through his beard and jerked his head in the direction of my apartment with a teasing smirk.
A smirk which his lips curled just slightly almost nonexistent. He smirked. I didn't even know he could have any other emotions other than distaste. "Goodnight, Presley."
"Goodnight." My voice was shaky, almost a whisper in response to the sudden change in emotions. Enigma. The man was an enigma.
I didn't waste another minute before practically flying out of his Audi with a racing heart and rushing into my apartment building. Trying to contain the hard pounding of my heart, and how fucking nervous a simple smirk made me.
I entered the elevator, pressed the button for floor five with a tap of my manicured nails, and allowed my head to loll against the wall, recounting every single aspect of the conversation I'd had within a span of two hours with Silvio Rossi.
As soon as I exited the elevator, I ran through the direction of my apartment door, and waited for a second. Another second. Breathed a deep inhale of air. Looked both ways with an assessing gaze before I took out my keys, jiggled them into the hole until it was a snug fit and unlocked the door.
Slipping into the apartment, I quickly flicked on the lights, my back pressed tightly against the door as I turned every single lock of the door including the deadbolt.
After a few moments, I walked through my one-bedroom loft-style apartment, making sure every single window was tightly closed and there was no possibility of a random stranger finding their way in.
It almost brought tears to my face thinking about how unsafe I felt even in my own damn apartment. In my own skin every single moment of my life.
I walked into my spacious bedroom, the splash of the color champagne bubbling in every space in extravagant displays.
Throwing my purse on the queen-sized bed, I eyed the messy display of shoes by the bedside table, and the mountains of clothes I'd been promising myself to throw in the laundry machine later this week but I'd only been lying to myself.
It would take me at least a fight or flight response which would mean running out of fucking clothes in order for me to get my ass up and face the storm.
Walking into the bathroom, my hands instinctively reached up to my knotless braids which I'd tied up in a ponytail earlier and I curled my hand through the tiny space, and snapped through the rubber band.
Long black braids fell down my round face, covering my vision and reached just inches my ass. I grabbed another hair-tie from the bathroom drawer, and pulled heaps of braids into a low bun, ruffled through my drawer and covered my hair with a pink bonnet.
I undressed completely to the point where I was butt-naked, grabbed my pack of makeup wipes I'd bought from the pharmacy store yesterday night and completely wiped the makeup off my face.
Rubbing the wet moisture into my face in a circular motion until about ninety-percent of the foundation was gone. I squeezed facial soap into my palm, flicked on the tap, stuck my palm under the running water and poured water over my face, washing through all the makeup I'd worn today.
After I felt cleaner than before, I jumped into the shower and quickly washed myself of all the sweat and rain from tonight. I threw an oversized shirt of Winnie the Pooh on, took off my shower cap, and left my bonnet on before walking over to my phone.
A glimpse of a black Audi caught my attention by the window; Glancing over, my eyes widened in recognition of the man who'd dropped me at my apartment almost an hour ago but he was still waiting patiently inside his car for unknown reasons.
His deep green eyes met mine, sparkling with mirth as they coasted over my figure and I quickly snapped the curtain closed.
What the actual fuck?
My phone pinged with missed messages from my best friend and for the first time since I'd been distracted by the six-foot menace with green eyes, I glanced over the dozen texts I'd received from Finley.
She'd been worried about me and wanted to know if I'd gotten home safe. She also mentioned how she hadn't asked Silvio to pick me up and apologize profusely like she always did whenever she felt something was her fault.
An habit I was trying to encourage her to stop.
After reassuring her I was completely fine about a hundred messages later, I swiped out of our private chat, my gaze focused on the new message from the unknown number.
A message I was already expecting since it'd became frequent over the years. It was the same tone of warning every single time with a photo of me. Today, it was a photo of Silvio and I in the car, sharing a heated look after he'd just warned me to be cautious.
I blinked slowly, my fingers trembling against the phone screen as I inhaled a deep breath trying my hardest not to get affected by his messages. After a while, he would leave. He always did.
I decided to call it an early night, rummaging through my fridge and devouring the rest of my Thai food for dinner. I'd just finished McDonald's just an hour ago but what could I say?
I was an hungry woman, I had a large appetite, and I always used to beat myself up for it until I realized food was energy. Food was not something to just obsess over, it was made to sustain me, it wasn't the enemy.
After eating, I searched for Elvis unable to find him, I groaned to myself blaming it on the object of my annoyance today.
I threw myself into my bed and turned on the television to play one of the old rom-com movies which always played in the background whenever my brain was fried from work.
It was Friday night which meant I didn't have to get up at eight in the morning tomorrow. There was a slight possibility of sleeping in if Finley Genovese didn't storm her tiny way through my apartment to rant about her morning.
Either way, tomorrow would be a new day. A new day for me to forget about tonight's disaster and my encounter with Silvio.
Tomorrow, everything would be back to normal. I wouldn't see him again for another six months, and he would ignore my presence like he always did.
Happy fucking Valentine's Day to me, I guess.
author's note
hi my loves, I missed you all>>33.
also get ready for Silvio and Presley's book and tighten your straps because this is going to be intense.
thank you for 15k, I love you all!
all my love,
dee
