The room is empty. Well, shit. It’s definitely not what I expected, given the state he was in only hours ago, but maybe he had work to do with Jack that couldn’t wait. It’s interesting his family is so close to the FBI. His older brother, Vince, really is dedicated to this new era if he’s befriending the feds. Jack’s nice, though. Awfully young for an agent, but I guess that means he’s really skilled. (Or that I haven’t met enough agents.)
I relax by my open windows for the rest of the day, let the breeze come in from the outside, and sketch more designs for the next designer I plan to meet. Iris messaged me an hour after I got back to say she has a couple of other connections, so hopefully, those pan out.
When the sun begins to set, I see Antonio walk up the stairs. I expect him to come into my room and tell me about what he did with his day, but instead, he walks right past my open door, doesn’t say a word, or even look at me.
“Antonio,” I call, but he closes his door, and I regret saying anything out of embarrassment for being rejected. At first, I thought he’s had a bad day, and he’ll come out when he’s ready, but the sun sets, and we’re nearing dinner time, and he’s not made an appearance. I get a text as I’m thinking about what to do.
Alk says: “Dinner’s ready.” I stand up, hesitating at my doorway. I glance over to his door. Think about it for a second. Do I want to talk to him after he’s ignored me? I sigh and shoot him a text about dinner, then head down the steps to a fully set table the entire way around.
“Um–“ I’m about to ask why, when I hear laughter, and I turn to the lounge room to see Mother, Gran, Vince, a woman who I presume to be his wife holding a baby, and Antonio’s father, who they call Pops.
“Hello!” My mother has clearly had her fair share of wine, and she's throwing her arms around me before I can swiftly reject her. I pat her on the back until she lets me go, and everyone is watching, eyes glowing with excitement.
“What… um… what’s going on?” I hear shuffling at the top of the stairs and see Tito linking arms with Antonio, who looks completely miserable. I know the feeling.
“Hi, Stell!” He calls as they thump down the stairs.
“Hi.” I wave, forcing myself to sound like I’m pleased for this crowd. Antonio won’t meet my eyes, and I’m still super confused about what I’ve done to deserve the ice treatment.
“We wanted to have dinner with both of the families. Alk mentioned you seemed a little homesick.” I furrow my brows and glance at him cooking in the kitchen. He doesn’t look back, but I know he can feel my death glare.
“Did he?” I say through a forced grin. Antonio’s eyes narrow, but he’s still searching the floor. It’s childish to be so irritatingly passive. His family is going to think we hate each other. He has to get rid of this attitude and fast because I’m not about to be ousted with his pouting.
I nudge him and glance his way as I’m greeted by everyone. He just nods along and shakes hands mindlessly. He’s usually the most charming one in the room. Now he’s obviously bothered, hovering in corners as the conversation picks up.
I’m cordial and polite as I speak with Pops and Jess about Antonio and how much fun we’ve had. I’m putting on an award-winning performance, and Antonio can’t even pull it together for an hour to impress my family. Not that it matters if they’re impressed. It only matters that they believe our relationship is real.
Tito seems to be clinging to Antonio’s side, so it may appear to others that they are simply in a deep conversation, but I hate that I know different. Eventually, the group migrates to the dining table by the kitchen, taking their seats leisurely. Just as Tito passes by, arm linked with Antonio’s, I grab Antonio by the wrist to stop them.
At first, Tito appears confused by my abruptness, but I plaster on a smile and lean in.
“Can I speak to my boyfriend for a second, Tito?”
“Oh, certainly.” He lets go of his arm, slapping him on the back. Antonio flares his nostrils, biting down on his bottom lip, still not looking into my eyes. I pull him around to the bathroom under the stairs. Lock the door behind us and flick on the light.
“What thehellare you doing?” He grits, leaning back against the sink to get some space between us.
“What amIdoing?
“That’s what I asked.”
“Why are you acting like this? You want them to figure us out?” I’m whisper-yelling now, and he’s shaking his head, pursing his lips in anger.
“Are you annoyed that I didn’t take you along with me today?” He’s looking past me, so I snap my fingers in front of his face.
“What?” He slaps the T like a punch. I grimace, shaking my head in disbelief.
“What is your problem?”
“You are.” I cock my head at the hate in his tone.
“I’m sorry? How am I your problem?”
“Just— just stop trying to fix everything.”
“What?”
“Like, let me feel how I want.”
“Yeah. Okay. That’s a great idea. I’ll go out there now and tell our families that you’re mad at me, and I have no clue what’s wrong. It probably has to do with the fact that we’re in a fake relationship, and I won’t let him fuck girls from—“
His lips slam into mine, hands gripping my ass tightly as he presses me against the wall. Of course, I kiss him back because the pleasure in my body can’t stop me from making the rash decision of falling into him. I forget where I am and what I want; only the immoveable, insatiable longing for his body floods my nerves, sending signals to my brain that confuses everything apart from my body connecting with his.
This shouldn’t be happening again, but I want it more than I ever have. Every kiss and every touch brings me closer to him, closer to falling off the edge of sanity and plummeting to the rocks of doom below. I could lose everything by mixing our calculated plans with pleasure. We both could.