Tangled In Strings

Chapter Four

Even though I'm not looking, I know his attention is on me and hasn't left.

It's taking quite a bit of getting used to– handling Giovanni's unfaltering solidity. For six months, I wondered if his brazenness was just a front, something he forced upon me to sink his claws as deep as they could go.

And now that everything is back out and in the open, I'm reminded that he's always been himself with me. These past months were the lie. He'll always push, he'll always want more for us. It's his nature to be brutally honest, and it's truly what attracted me to him.

It's just now there's so much I don't want to confront.

The fact that I know he's going to make me feel it all is terrifying.

My eyes close as the plane begins to move along the runway. "You're looking at me."

"It's hard not to."

I huff darkly. "Because I'm scowling?"

"Because you're beautiful."

Oh. I meet his gaze with one swift glance. His sculpted lips curve, just barely.

Just like that, I feel laid bare.

"You can't say things like that to me." My chest feels full.

He settles back, his long legs extending out between us. "Why not?"

I fail to hide my smirk. "Because I'm reveling. And when you say things like that, I can't."

"Which is exactly the point. I want you happy on this trip."

"I want it too, more than anything," I confess. My eyes betray me, darting to my cell.

"Do you want to call him?"

"No."

"It's okay if you do."

I shake my head, frowning deeply. "No, it's not. He isn't who I thought he was."

I reach over, stuffing my dead cell into my bag as far as it can go. "He told me he loathed me... when I was a baby. He gave me away, Giovanni. He's been in my life for years and said nothing, knowing that I'm already plenty fucked up."

"Maybe he knew it would fuck you up more to know."

"Maybe," I shrug, "but I deserved to know."

"You're right." He tilts his head. "But you know he's not going to just give up. You can't just will him away, Scarlett."

"I know. I know he isn't, and I know I'm going to want answers to the questions I have... but not today. Not now. Right now, I want to disappear– with you."

"My aunt's villa has an adjoining apartment. We will have our time together."

I begin to smile. "Good... cause I'd like to actually get to know you."

His smile matches mine. "It's about time, isn't it?"

...

The sun beats down upon us as we stride over the tarmac towards the double doors. Even as exhausted as I am after the ten-hour flight across the Atlantic, I don't have to see rolling hills to be excited–or to know that I'm halfway across the world. We left New York in daylight, and yet, landing in Florence after only ten hours, we've landed again in the early light. The day is just starting here.

Giovanni, sporting a crisp white linen shirt and denim jeans, walks beside me. Perched on his nose are dark sunglasses, the same shade as his hair, which is flowing freely behind him, swept by a sharp gust of wind. With a skilled quickness, I take note of his unmatchable beauty, memorizing the slightly thicker stubble across his defined jaw, the olive skin that only brightens in the sun. He turns his attention to me, no doubt feeling my gaze.

"I can't believe we're here," I whisper as he wraps an arm atop my shoulders, pulling me in. My hands, which wrap around each side of his waist, move low enough to get under the thin shirt, wanting to feel his bare skin.

We enter through the private entrance into a brightly lit room. I'm surprised to find no one in it, apart from employees. But as we continue forward, gaining quite a few looks from the staff, I realize we're in a separate section of the airport.

Suddenly I hear shouting. My first instinct is to hide my face, but when I hear Giovanni laugh, his chest shaking with laughter, I look for where the voices are coming from.

"Gio! Gio!"

"Luca! Marco! Ciao," Giovanni exclaims, lifting his arm as the tall, huge one of the pair runs into Giovanni's body.

"Mi sei mancato, cugino."

"Come stai, Marco?" Giovanni utters joyfully, pulling back. "Sei in forma!"

The other man, a stubbier, kinder-looking man, pulls Gio away from Marco, clasping him tightly. I smile softly at how Giovanni has to bend slightly to fully embrace him with as much vigor.

"È ora che torni a casa!"

"Stai benissimo, cugino. È bello essere tornati. I missed this place."

Giovanni slaps a hand against his back, pulling away to look at me. I am struck in my own awe, realizing only now, stupidly, that Giovanni speaks fluent Italian. And why wouldn't he? When he places a hand on my back, it's nearly overwhelming to my senses.

I hadn't thought he could get any hotter. I was wrong.

"Marco, Luca, this is Scarlett Bardot. She is my girlfriend. Scarlett, these are my cousins."

When they both look at me, their brows high, their eyes observing, I smile politely. They both move forward and stun me with pecks on the cheek before moving back, speaking in Italian again. When I hear the word Lola mentioned in their quick dribble, my gaze hardens, shifting to Giovanni.

"Lei è diversa," Giovanni says, the smile wiping from his face, deepening with emotion. When I look at them again, the tall one, Marco, begins to grin.

"My young cousin says you're different from his ex."

"I sure hope to be," I quip in reaction, frustrated to not know their language. I pause momentarily, hoping they don't like Lola. I hadn't even thought of that.

"Any person that sees through that horrible woman is fine by me," Luca states after a moment, with a nod of finality to Giovanni. "Zia will love her, I have a feeling."

Marco shrugs, smiling wider. "He's always right about those. You know, we never even met her. Said she didn't have time to visit. And then to betray Gio with his no-good brother–"

"Alright, alright. That's enough." Giovanni grabs my hand as they begin to lead us out, obviously knowing where they are going. "How is Maria?"

"Fun as ever. She has a new boyfriend. He lives down the street."

"Another one?"

"You get your promiscuity from her, I think, cugino," Marco quips, earning a slap to the back of the head from Giovanni.

"Ah!"

I blush, looking down at my feet, and Giovanni's slender fingers lace between my own.

"That life is behind me."

A radiating happiness blossoms within me at Giovanni's endearing confession. I peer up at him, pleasantly surprised to find him ignoring the looks of disbelief from his frighteningly blunt family members. He brings my hand to his smooth lips, pressing down on the skin.

"Giovanni Martinelli. Smitten. Who would have thought the day would come?"