Page 63

Katarina
Ican’t remember the last time I slept through the night without being tortured by the horrors of that day.
I can thank Rocco for that. Because of him, I never wanted to close my eyes. I didn’t want our time together to end. And now, even as I crack open my eyes in the morning light streaming through the window shades, I know I have to move forward.
But all I want to do is hit the rewind button and relive those blissful hours on top of him, under him, in front of him, and a whole slew of other positions I haven’t begun to catalog.
I’ve never felt so peaceful.
Or physically exhausted.
My limbs are wobbly like Jell-O, and if I try to swing my legs over the side of the bed, there’s a good chance I’ll collapse on the floor.
And I don’t know that I’d be in any rush to get up.
I clutch the bedsheet up to my chin and let out a deep sigh, running my hand through my tangled mess of hair. I cringe. What the hell must I look like right now? I grab my cheeks and pinch them to bring some color into them since I must be as white as this sheet.
I flip over to find an empty spot next to me and my gut clenches.
Guys who don’t wake up next to you are usually the ones who are ready to call you an Uber the second your eyes open.
I bury my face in his pillow and inhale his fresh and clean scent. I couldn’t have read all of that wrong, right? It felt too real to be bullshit.
Or maybe it’s just been long enough that I can’t recognize the difference anymore.
“Goddammit!” I shout into the pillow, which comes out sounding more like “Mnhammit!”
The bedroom door creaks open, and Rocco peeks his head in, a smile plastered on his face.
“You called?”
I gasp and sit up, pulling the sheet over me. “Oh, I, um…”
“You know I already saw you naked, right?” he says, carrying a tray piled high with food over to the bed.
“Yes,” I say in a small voice, clutching the sheet tighter.
“Just making sure you remember.” He points to the dishes on the tray. “Hey, so I figured you might be hungry. I know you pretty much live on vodka and pizza, but you know, since it’s breakfast, I thought we’d try something new.”
“We tried a lot of new things last night.” I raise my eyes up from the tray and tiny shivers shimmy across my bare skin when spots of red appear in his cheeks.
“And believe me, I’d like to try plenty more.” He hands me a mug with steam rising out of it.
“Really?” I whisper. Cool, Kat. Way to play hard to get.
“Yeah,” he says, leaning toward me and brushing his lips against mine. “That is, if you’re down with it. You must have been some kinda gymnast in your past life or something.” He lets out a low whistle and shakes his head.
I blow on the coffee and take a tiny sip. It scorches my esophagus and lands in my empty belly, heating me from the inside out. “I used to be a competitive gymnast. A long time ago.”
“That explains a lot.” Rocco smirks. “Who’s the lucky boy?”
I giggle and look down at the tray of eggs, toast, fruit, bacon, breakfast sausages…I have to laugh at that one…and cereal. “How long did it take you to prepare this tray?”
“Long enough. Every second was worth it, though.”
“You’re sweet.”
“You sound surprised.”