Antonio has his fair share of shots. I lose count after taking the last one I have a couple of hours into our evening. The food is outstanding as always. The conversation is light after Jens and Antonio’s little moment of intensity. I think everyone’s captivated by Antonio by the end of the night. Everyone except for Jens, who has been flicking through his phone on and off.
“You ready to head out, babe?” Antonio reaches for me across the table, his figure slightly blurred as he moves. I would nod, so I don’t have to answer him, but I’m getting the spins, so it seems too risky.
“Yes.” I smile, and he comes around to the corner of the table to help me out.
“Oh no! You’re leaving?” Iris pouts, and everyone turns their heads to us.
“Yeah, I’ve got something planned for Stell and me tomorrow. Thank you all for a wonderful evening.” He nods at them with a smile so immaculate that it makes my legs weak. Everyone stands to their feet, giving us both hugs goodbye.
“We have to meet for coffee sometime!” Brandt slaps him on the back.
“You got my number!” Antonio pulls away from their hug.
“And you’ve got mine.” Brandt clicks his fingers, and they laugh together as Jens pushes past them, walking straight up to me.
“Goodnight.” He looks between my eyes, saying something to me that his words didn’t. They’re asking for the truth, but I would never give that away to him. Not ever.
“Goodnight.” I pull him into a hug, and he wraps his arms a little too low around my waist. I tug myself away from him so hard that I fall against Antonio, who takes a second to realize why I’ve done it.
“Watch it, man.” He points a finger at Jens, and the group goes silent.
“She hugged me first.”
“Oh yeah? Well, she fucked me last, so calm the fuck down, pretty boy.”
“Excuse me?” Jens scoffs.
“That’s more like it.” Antonio chides, snaking his arm around my waist and pulling me through the restaurant as I fail to comprehend how the fuck that just happened.
We get in the car, and I barely notice the flashing lights and screaming paps attempting to ask stupid questions no one cares about except people with no life. I force myself to maintain composure as I get into the car, but it’s definitely too late to take back the drinks I downed tonight. My head hits Antonio’s lap before I can really comprehend why I’m doing it.
The car is moving now, and my head is still spinning from this quick maneuver.
“Hey.” He whispers when I look up at him. A sweet smile forms on his lips as he pinches my cheek lightly.
“Hey!” I swat his hand away unsuccessfully.
“You have nice cheeks.” He lays his head back and whispers, “All four of them.” I snort a laugh and slap his stomach, but after hitting him, my hand still rests there. His mountainous abs are evident through his t-shirt, and I want to take off the cotton layer separating them from me, just to stare at them.
We’re silent for the remainder of the ride, but every once in a while, I look up to see him blinking his eyes out the window. I intend to say something about tonight, but I can’t find the words to articulate it. As stressed as I was when it began, I ended up feeling very safe by the end of the night. Antonio isn’t as bad as I thought he would be. In fact, he charmed my friends so much that they even want to go on a vacation with him. (That’s a big deal for them, they’re super cliquey.)
After we come to a stop, I sit up too quickly. But I fight the spinning sensation to get out of the car without his help. The last thing I need is for him to touch me more. Whenever he touches me, I get lost in his world, and I’m determined not to succumb to him tonight.
We open the door to a dark house, only the fireplace dimly lit in the lounge room next to the stairs. Antonio reaches across me, his breath raising hairs on my skin as he flicks the light on and retracts back. I lick my lips. Why do I lick my lips?
Quickly, I collect myself, attempting to head up the stairs when he catches my wrist.
“Want some coffee?” He asks, staring towards the kitchen, and I think for a minute before nodding.
“Sure.” I cross back to him, and he doesn’t let go of me as we walk to the kitchen. He finally lifts his hand when he turns on the lights that line underneath the cabinets. It's warm in here, probably the fireplace and my long sleeves.
I lift myself onto the counter, which I’m rather impressed with, given the state my brain is currently in.
“Sugar?” He asks as he pulls out his French press from under the sink.
“No.” I watch as he cracks a smile.
“Then you want milk?”