Chapter 9: Both Can Be True

Gianna's POV

On Sunday night I made lasagna on two hotplates and a toaster oven, and Dino got home on time.

He walked in at seven with sawdust in his hair, and we sat across from each other at my mother's table.

Neither of us touched our forks until we were both sitting.

"Marco showed me a card today," he said. "In your mother's handwriting."

"Saying what?"

"Carla's plate. Every Sunday. He covered the rest with his thumb."

I set my fork down.

"Not tonight," I said. "Please. I can't carry him and Carla and my father tonight."

"Okay."

"Tonight I want one thing."

He waited.

I stood up and walked around the table, and he turned in his chair to look up at me.

"I'm still angry at you," I said.

"I know."

"I'm going to be angry for a while."

"I know."

"And I want you so much I can't think about anything else."

His hands closed on the edge of the chair.

"Gia."

"Both can be true."

"Both is fine," he said hoarsely, and then I was in his lap.

He kissed me hard, and I knew he had been holding it in for a long time.

His mouth was hot and his hands were in my hair.

I could feel through his jeans exactly how much he wanted this.

I rocked against it and he groaned into my mouth.

"Cot," he said. "Now."

We never made it across the room in any dignified way.

He carried me with my legs around his waist and my mouth on his neck.

Halfway there he backed me into the workbench and kissed me until my head went light.

Then he laid me down on the cot, and the frame creaked.

I pulled his shirt over his head.

His chest was broad and warm and dusted with fine wood shavings.

I put my palms flat against it and felt his heart pounding.

Keep reading free with an account. Start No Seat for Me at This Table from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.