Page 42

“What was that like?”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged. “You went from a family of five to one that included Sofia, and your cousins. Did you resent that at all?”

“What part?”

“Sharing your parents?”

He laughed softly. “My parents are easy to share.”

“You’re not close?”

He stroked her hair. “On the contrary, we’re very close. I respect them immensely. It’s more…my parents occupy an enormous space. They love fiercely, they’re loud, joyous, there’sjust so much of them to go around. They have an indefatigable energy. I never felt that I was missing out, by having our cousins spend so much time in our home. Instead, I gained. More family, more texture, more interest. There was always someone to do something with. Raf and I would drive to the beach each morning in the summer and swim for miles. Marco and I would build things?—,”

“What kinds of things?”

“Elaborate structures,” he said, with a rueful grin. “We would forage timber from the woods around the house and cut them to shape, sculpting them into whatever we wanted. There’s a sense of security that comes from having so many people on your team.”

“Yes,” she admitted with a nod, completely agreeing with him.

“You know the feeling?”

She nodded again. “I only have two brothers, but they love me in the way you’ve described. Fiercely, loyally, and with all of themselves.”

He grunted, and she glanced up at him.

“Is it weird to talk about our families?”

His eyes flicked to hers, a frown etching across his face. “Surprisingly, it’s not. I like hearing about your life. That includes your family.”

Something shifted in her chest. A burst of warm, ebullient happiness. With a chaser of worry, because this was all becoming so…normal. And nice. The thought of walking away from Salvatore in a little over a week seemed impossible to contemplate. Even when she knew it was sensible and essential. After all, what was the alternative?

“I feel the same way,” she said, slowly, but the lick of concern had taken the shine off her happiness, and it came across in her voice.

“What is it?”

She bit into her lower lip. “Do you think it’s strange that our families are like this?”

“Supportive?”

She shook her head. “No, the whole hating each other thing. I mean, why should you or I hate each other? Why should my brothers hate yours? The thing is, the more you talk about your family, the more I get the sense that they’re all so similar. I feel like if our families spent time together, they’d probably realise they have a lot in common.”

He let out a snort of derision, so her lips tugged down in a deep frown.

“Don’t do that,” she murmured.

“I’m sorry, it’s just impossible to imagine us all in the same room, much less getting along.”

“But why?” She pushed. “Why should something that happened forever ago shape our lives now?”

The hand that had been stroking her spine stilled and his eyes seemed to bore into hers. “What are you saying?”

She shifted one shoulder, not entirely sure how to answer that. Not entirely sure what she was thinking, what she wanted. “I’m just saying, it’s so abstract?—”

“No, it’s not.”

“You really care what happened to our grandparents?”