Page 107 of Valentino

The grip he has on my hand tightens as he holds me to him.

“Because that animal is clawing at my fucking skin from the inside out to get to you.”

His eyes flicker with darkness and a frisson of fear runs through me.

“To feed on your flesh. To get you so fucking swollen and wet…to use your body to gratify my deepest depravities…. until you are raw and broken. And completely fucking mine.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

What in the….

I swallow the lump in my throat as my eyes search his. “I don’t….” I shrug, confused. “What are you saying?” I go to pull my hand out of his grip but he holds it harder, not letting me go.

“I’m saying to stay away from me.” His words are cold but behind his eyes I sense a glimmer of softness, perhaps even fear. Or is that just wishful thinking on my part?

“Because you don’t like me that way?” I ask.

He goes back to twisting my ring. “The opposite.”

I watch him twist my ring, unable to look me in the eye. “You’re not making sense, Valentino. Explain this to me.”

“It’s because I care about you that I’m telling you to stay away. It’s because I like you that I know you deserve better.”

“I don’t understand why you would think that.”

“Because, Anna.” He lets out a deep sigh and looks up over the restaurant. “I’m not sweet or romantic. I’m terrible at emotion and talking, or relationships in general for that matter.” He shrugs. “And I want you to have all of those things.”

“Nobody is perfect.”

“You are.” His eyes search mine. “You are, Anna.”

Emotion floods through me and tears threaten because that was both the most romantic, sweetest and yet saddest thing that anyone has ever said to me.

He believes I’m so perfect that I deserve better than he can give me.

“I don’t care,” I reply. “Maybe….” I shrug. “Maybe you just haven’t been with someone who brings those things out in you.”

“That isn’t it,” he replies defiantly. “I’m not those things, Anna, and you need to accept that. And you need to think about this before we ruin our friendship.”

“What the hell?” I scoff. “You’re worried about our friendship?”

“Of course I’m worried about our friendship, it’s important to me. You’re important to me and once we cross that line there is no going back. Not this time.”

He’s talking in riddles and not making sense.

“What does that mean exactly, Valentino?” I ask. “No going back?”

“If we don’t work out then we can’t be friends anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not watching you with someone else. I did it once and it nearly killed me. I stayed your friend because I wanted you in any capacity that I could have you…. But I won’t do it again. If something were to happen between us and it didn’t work out, I would cut all ties and make sure to never see you again.”

Not how I thought this conversation would go, the weight of disappointment begins to sink in.

“I see,” I murmur.

The problem is I do see and I wish I didn’t because it felt better being blissfully unaware.