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An unplanned smile almost spreads onto my lips. Though the man at my side might drive me crazy—he’s proven that many times over in recent days—I can’t help being endeared by his determination.

Jayla’s advice shifts to the front of my mind.

Maybe hearing his explanation will help clear things up. It could even give you closure.

“Hot chocolate?” Rafael asks suddenly, drawing me back from my thoughts.

We’ve started down the sidewalk outside the hospital, passing by a street vendor. I go to shake my head but the breath I release turns into frost in front of me. I shudder at the chilly air and then cut him a small smile.

“One cup of hot cocoa can’t hurt… I guess…”

It’s a strange twist of events.

The night started off with me dressed to the nines at a million dollar charity dinner and it’s ending with me on the street drinking hot cocoa with a man I’ve sworn off forever.

Afterwe’ve survived a shooting together.

Rafael hands me the paper cup of whipped hot chocolate deliciousness. The heat feels good against my palm as I hold onto the cup and take a cautious sip.

“So,” I say, “you finally have me alone. What did you want that you couldn’t tell me almost two years ago in Sicily?”

Rafael strokes his beard to stave off a laugh. “You are a ball buster,dolcezza. I bet you never let your ex-husband get away with anything.”

…you’d be surprised. That was the problem.

“No explanation? That’s what I thought.”

“It was never my intention to not follow through with our plans. I wanted to see you that night.”

“But…?”

“A situation I couldn’t avoid came up.”

“What kind of situation? You couldn’t call me to let me know?”

“I wish it could’ve been different,” he says vaguely. We’ve wandered halfway down the block, cups of hot cocoa in hand, distantly trailed by his security. Headlights and taillights shine from the passing cars depending which direction they’re headed in on the street.

I wait for more details that feel like they’ll never come.

Rafael drags the rest of his answer out for another second or two.

“If it makes you feel any better, I have thought about you every day since.”

“Sweet but means nothing when you still can’t tell me why,” I say bluntly. “All it sounds like is you got cold feet… or maybe you weren’t really that into me… or maybe the incident with your sheets ruined your interest. All fine if you’d been honest with me.”

“None of that is true.”

“I’ve spent almost two years believing it is. But I get it—you saw two Black American women on vacation and you were attracted. Isn’t there a stereotype Italian men have that American women are easy? I guess your interest makes sense.”

Rafael allows his laugh to break free this time. The sound’s thick and throaty, his handsome face filled with mirth. “Trust me when I say,dolcezza, there is nothingeasyabout you. In fact, I’d say everything about you is difficult. Everything about you is a challenge. Maybe that’s why I can’t give you up.”

“You… what?”

“I love a challenge.” He stops in the middle of the sidewalk to face me, even more amused by my bewilderment. He leans closer, his gaze intensely set on me. “I love a chase. I love working hard to earn what I want. You’re a woman who doesn’tgive ineasily. I’m a man who doesn’tgive upeasily. Iwillwin you over. You can count on that,dolcezza.”

He winks at me before reaching up. I flinch in anticipation, unsure what to expect. His thumb grazes the corner of my lip, catching a dollop of whipped cream from my last sip of hot cocoa. The move is slow, sensuous as the pad of his thumb swipes it away only for him to bring it up to his own mouth.

He licks it up, holding my stunned gaze, sending a sharp shiver down my spine.