Reaching Hearts (Hearts Series) by Sabrina Lacey Read Free Book Online Page A

Corinne were here, she’d tell him. She’d
probably fuck him right here in the street, too. In broad
daylight. With that old lady in an apron and slippers
watching. It’s lame, but the second I imagine it, I realize the fact of
the matter is, I would LOVE to do something wild like that, so I guess I’m a
hypocrite. That’s why I liked her so much; she did things I wanted to do but
never could. Like fucking Brendan for example. There I go thinking about it
again.
    Struggling
to change my thoughts to the present, I say, “Your English is very good.”
    “I
studied since childhood.” He glances to me and chuckles .
“… a long time ago.”
    Did
he say that because he thinks I’m a kid? I’m a woman. I want him to know that.
    “I’m
Annie.”
    He
bows. Actually bows! “Christiano.”
    As
he rises, I blurt out, “I’m not as young as I look.”
    His
eyebrows go up, eyes dancing. “No?”
    “No.”
Then I roll my eyes. “I am however, just as dorky as I look. I’m working on
it.”
    The
amusement leaves him. “I know this word. It does not apply to you.” He holds my
eyes until he’s sure I heard him. Reluctantly, I nod. This seems to satisfy
him. “Come. This way.”
    Thrown
by his everything, it takes me a second to follow him. With him a few steps
ahead of me, I check out his body and like what I see very, very much. He looks
over his shoulder. My eyes fly up too late. He saw me looking for sure. I stare
off to the left at nothing in particular, but it’s obvious I’m trying to cover.
    “There
is the store.”
    “Okay.
Great. Thank you. I mean, Grazie. I’ll see you. Bye.”
    I
look over and see the door nestled in between a series of shops, the buildings
all touching, almost as one. They’re tall, the color of sand and look like
they’ve been here for centuries. They probably have, now that I think about it.
    “Un piacere, Annie.” I think he just said it was a pleasure , or maybe I want to give you pleasure . I know the
word pleasure was used.
    “Thank
you.”
    Speechless,
I stare in amazement as he bows once more, rises and gives me one last smile,
then turns and walks away. Whoa. Come back? Scuffling off, I swear to myself
for not having bought something prettier to wear already. Why am I still wearing
black, black, and more black ? Sigh.
    I
pick up various bottles of marinara sauce with unknown ingredients, thinking hating yourself is so fucking exhausting . And man does it make you hungry. Searching through the compact aisles, I grab the fixings for bare-bones pasta,
just the basics. I’m dying to try something new, but that would take wasting
money if I didn’t get it right.
    I
need to get a job soon. Maybe if I’d chosen a place that spoke my language, it
would have been easier. To make matters worse, I’m terribly lonely. Bending
down to grab a bag of bow tie pasta, I think to myself, so basically nothing has changed .
    “No.
You cannot do this. It is not right.”
    I
look up to see Christiano standing above me. “Oh, hi! You came back!”
    He
takes the bottle of sauce out of my hands and puts it on the wrong shelf. “Let
me make you a real Italian meal.”
    I
look at the bottle sitting out of place among various olive oils, and back to
him. “Really?”
    “Come.”
He takes the bow tie pasta from me, too, and puts that next to the rejected
sauce, also where it’s not supposed to go. I glance down quickly to the bottom
shelf where I just got it from, back up to where it is now, thinking how odd it
is that he did that. Oddly rebellious. I love it.
    He
steps aside and says it again. “Come.”
    It’s
so assertive, that I walk past him toward the door immediately. The teenager
behind the register is still reading his magazine and doesn’t look up. I glance
to him, and then look over my shoulder, catching Christiano looking at my ass.
Only he doesn’t fall all over himself like I did when I was caught. Instead, he
just looks at me. No smile. No shyness.
    “You’re
going to