Page 56 of Marry Me Not
I blinked at the storefronts sliding past outside the window, my eyelids heavy. “I don’t know. I was thinking about going back to school after we’re done. Getting a master’s degree in art, or something more practical, like curatorial studies.”
“That’s practical?”
I rolled my eyes. “Maybe I’ll meet him in one of my classes. I think a shared interest is a good foundation for a relationship.”
“Yeah?” His voice was dry. “You want to go to museums with him and discuss the meaning of unfinished paintings?”
“That sounds nice.”
“Hmm. And what other qualities would this ideal male specimen have?”
I eyed him. Why did he sound so irritated? “He’d be nice. And gentle. The kind of guy who wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
His jaw moved.
“And calm,” I went on, observing him as I did. “Someone who doesn’t need to control everything all the time. Someone who listens.”
He scoffed.
“What?” I asked.
“He sounds just like you.”
“So?”
“You’d be bored.”
I frowned. “Why would that be boring?”
“Because there’s a reason people say opposites attract.”
At once, my mind betrayed me. A velvet box pressed against my chest. Large hands, warm and sure, handling me with expert ease while the camera clicked. The dark hallway at Black Silk, the two of us pressed together so closely that to anyone watching, we must’ve looked like lovers.
Want, hot and foolish, dripped into my bloodstream, then a wave of nausea washed it away.
I slapped my palm over my mouth.
Cosimo glanced at me.
I pointed weakly at the windshield.
“Fuck.” He pulled over fast. The moment the car stopped, I shoved the door open and stumbled out into the cold night air. I barely made it a few steps before I bent over and threw up into the gutter.
A second wave hit before I could recover. This time, I felt him behind me—his hand gathering my hair off my neck, the other steadying me as his jacket settled over my shoulders. The gesture was so unexpectedly gentle it made the whole thing somehow worse.
By the time it passed, my eyes were watering, and every inch of me felt wrung out. I stayed bent over for a second, breathing hard, then I slowly straightened. The night air was freezing against my skin, but his jacket was warm and heavy with the scent of him.
“Done?”
I nodded. I couldn’t speak. My bottom lip wobbled as humiliation burned through me.
He handed me the bottle again. “Rinse your mouth.”
I did. I was the most disgusting person in the world.
“We need to get some food in you.”
He got me back into the car, and I shut my eyes.
