"All right, well whatever you're doing have a good time and be careful. If you need anything I'll be home today."
He goes back to cooking his bacon and I feel kind of bad. I feel like I'm breaking three thousand years of tradition. But at the same time, my gut is telling me to go to Tony. I need to know why he stopped by.
I go upstairs quickly to throw on some decent clothes and to fix my hair more than just running a comb through it. The butterflies remain constant throughout. I'm also wondering how it's going to go when I see him. Is he going to be happy, grumpy, or indifferent? Tony is a mixed bag. And I guess part of me likes that.
Leaving the house, I give my father one last goodbye and start to drive to Tony's mansion. My hands are perspiring just like the time that I’d gone for the interview. As much as things change they stay the same I guess.
I can't drive fast enough, even though a part of me wants to be like Tony, following suit in regard to how he drove when we were taking Luca to the hospital. What does it feel like to just blow through red lights and have the confidence to know nobody’s going to stop you and if they even try you’re not going to give them the time of day or care at all? But I don’t have that kind of confidence, or possibly stupidity. Breaking the law is something I would never do…even if I was around Tony. But I'd be lying to myself if I didn’t acknowledge the thought of it crossing my mind right now.
Perhaps Tony is a bad influence on me. This doesn't stop me though. I continue driving with that anticipation in my chest. And when I get to his mansion, drive through the gates and pull up into his driveway I’m in need of a deep breath.
Angling the rearview mirror down I fiddle with my mascara a little bit, trying to look my best. Why? What am I planning to do? Why am I putting so much time into my appearance for this man?
For all I know he came by my house because he wanted nothing more than to apologize to me for something or give me an interaction that won't involve a kiss. I'm letting my assumptions get the best of me.
Leaving my car, I take another much-needed long breath and head up to his door. He may not even be home because it's a Saturday. Does a man like him come across as a homebody? My mind goes to a million different illegal scenarios he could be involved in, inside or outside his house. Knowing what he’s capable of, what I could accidentally get swept up into, should deter me. Instead, it excites me.
I ring his doorbell and I can hear it through the door. Unlike most houses where you can sense someone walking up, his mansion is just too damn big for any of that.
The locks begin to turn. One by one, the amount that needs to be unlocked confirms to me that he is a paranoid man. Or maybe he's just being safe. I don't know.
When the doors swing open, Tony is standing there in a white tank top, basketball shorts, and a long white robe.
That lion-like, stoic face of his hints at the shock of my arrival. It makes me smile. It's not every day that I can throw Tony off his game.
"Cassandra."
"That's my name. I heard you showed up at my house. I would have called you but my phone's broken."
It's like he doesn't believe me. I dig into my bag and take the thing out. "Look, why would I lie about something like this?"
"I never said I thought you were lying. I'm just…shocked to see you."
"Well, I was shocked to hear that you showed up at my house. What did you need?"
The wheels are turning in his head. I crave to know what he's thinking. I crave to know what he locks away up in that brain of his. "Why don't you come inside."
With pleasure is what I want to say. But I don't. I instead walk inside flat-footed, trying to contain the bounce my step wants to display…trying to keep my eagerness at bay. "How is it every time that I walk inside this place it seems bigger? This is the first time I've noticed all the marble."
"It was built by an Italian guy. Italians love marble for absolutely no reason." He shuts the door and closes his robe. The act of him closing his robe makes me want to open the robe. For someone like me, this is a strange urge to have. I honestly don't know what's going on with me. He activates certain things in my body that I usually have a lot of control over.
"Let me cut to the chase,” he begins. "That kiss has me fucked up. I don't know what I was thinking. But I can't get the damn thing off my mind."
What do I say to this?
It's the perfect doorway to go wherever I want to go and yet I have no direction. It's like I also don't want to say something that's going to dismiss what I'm feeling. I don't want him to think that I don't feel the same way. But I also don't want to seem too eager. Because then he's just going to pass me off as an eighteen-year-old immature girl who doesn't know what's best for her, which is far from true. "You seem like a person who would believe in the phraselife is short."
"Yeah, maybe I do. So what?"
My heart is racing. I've never been this type of girl before. I've never gone out on a limb to say what I want. But I think I'm about to do that. Let my guard down for once. As nervous and afraid as I am, I want to bait this predator and see if he attacks. "Maybe it's just something we shouldn't question…just live in the moment,” I purr, feeling a sexual awakening, a clear understanding of how to use my femininity to get what I want from the most masculine of men for the first time in my life.
"You know I was supposed to have some business to take care of today. Lucas's grandmother came to get him. It's just you and me in this house.” He pauses, his eyes narrowing as he challenges me further. “What moment are you trying to live in?"
Here goes nothing. I walk up to Tony and run my finger down his torso, the robe parting like the Red Sea as I continue my digit’s descent, stopping right above his boxers. If I focused on it enough I could probably feel the blood forcing through my body. Adrenaline takes the wheel inside me and threatens to drive straight off a cliff. "I think I want to live in a moment that's similar to where our lips touched."
I lift his tank top to reveal tight abs. I'm not expecting those, but they're hella welcomed.
On my second pass, I run my entire hand down his exposed skin, stopping at the elastic of his boxers once more. He doesn't stop me, instead he places his hand on the back of my head.