Page 48 of The Bonventi Rise

He looks at me and smiles. "You mind if I sleep here tonight?"

I pop my head up. "Really? You want to, like, stay with me?"

He looks confused. "I mean, well, it's almost 4, so I guess it's morning. I could?—"

"No, you can stay," I say and curl back into him.

He holds me tight, and we don't say another word. Before I know it, I'm drifting off into the happiest sleep I've had in a long time.

25

ALINA

Istir awake and sit up quickly. Is he? Was I? I turn to see Marco sleeping peacefully next to me, and I smile.

I go to stand up and realize I'm naked. The warmth of him and the bed, I'm not ready to give up. However, I have to pee like there's no tomorrow, so I brave the cold air and quickly toss my sweater and yoga pants back on.

When I return, Marco is sitting up, shirtless, looking through his phone. Even just waking up, he looks like a Greek god.

He sees me come back into the room, puts his phone down, and smiles at me.

"Morning, Firefly."

"Morning," I say with a smile. "Would you like your clothes?"

He lifts up the covers to playfully look under. "Alina, what did you do to me?" he asks, laughing.

I toss his clothes to him, and as he stands, I turn away. I'm not sure why privacy matters now—instincts, I guess.

I do sneak a quick glance at his firm, toned butt before his boxer briefs hide it.

"Would you like some coffee?" I ask hesitantly. "Unless you need to go?"

He looks at his watch.

"I always have time for you," he says with a sly smile.

I nod. "Okay, I'll meet you in the kitchen," I say, turning away and hiding my huge smile.

Just as I finish preparing our coffee, he comes into the kitchen and comes up behind me. He wraps me in his arms, bends down, kisses the top of my head, and then takes a seat on one of my barstools.

I sit opposite him and slide his mug across.

"Finest coffee in Chicago," I say jokingly and then immediately regret it.

He takes a sip. "Who lied to you?" he says, laughing.

"Hey," I say, making a stern face. "Beggars can't be choosers."

We sit for a few moments, and I feel this is the best time to bring up what's on my mind. A now-or-never feeling rushes over me.

Better start slow, however. Lob a few softballs, as they say in our world.

"So," I say, setting my mug down, "can I ask you a few questions? Get to know the mysterious Marco Bonventi."

He smirks. "Sure, you are my fiancé afterall."

"Why politics?" I ask softly. "You could be doing a lot of other things."