Knock, knock.
My head snaps up straight. I’m at the apartment, sitting on the ratty two-person couch, a basketball game playing on the TV.
It’s late.
Orrin knows better than to show up unannounced, so it can’t be him, and no one else is supposed to know I’m here. Have Garzolo’s men found me?
Fuck.
Was that him calling me from an unknown number? I had a feeling it was someone trying to bait me so they could get a hit on my location, so I let the calls ring out.
I reach for my gun, check it’s fully loaded, and move toward the door.
This might be my last stand.
Blood whooshes inside my ears as I turn the lock.
If I die here, at least I won’t have any regrets. I did what I thought was right. I went after what I wanted.
It’s too damn bad I still didn’t manage to get it though.
I crack the door open.
What the… “Gemma?”
She’s standing there bundled up in what looks like a man’s jacket, her cheeks slightly pink from the cold, and her arms wrapped around her.
I lower the gun and frown. “What are you doing here?”
Why is she here? Something bad must have happened for her to seek me out like this.
She swallows. “Um… I… needed to talk to you.”
My gaze drifts over her, hungrily committing every new detail to memory.
I’ve survived on a diet of short glimpses of her from a distance for over a week.
And now she’s right here, right in front of me. So vivid and real.
But I don’t like some of the things I see. Dark bags under her eyes. Pale skin. Has she lost some weight?
What the fuck have they been doing to her?
Tucking the gun into my waistband, I lean through the doorway and look down the hallway in both directions. “Where are your guards?”
“Not here.”
Frustration spikes inside of me. She’s here alone? Unprotected? “It’s almost midnight. Did you lose them somewhere?”
She looks down at her hands. “I…I don’t have guards anymore.”
Now, I’m really fucking irritated. “What? Why would Rafaele let you wander around on your own?”
Her teeth dig into her bottom lip, and she slowly lifts her gaze to me.
It feels significant. Like whatever she’s about to say might bring me to my knees.
“Because we’re not engaged anymore.”
I manage to keep myself standing, but the whooshing sound is back. I wrap my hand around the side of my neck, my pulse pounding against it like an off-beat drum. “Say that again. I think I heard you wrong.”
“I called it off. He’s… marrying Cleo instead.”
I’ve always been quick on the uptake, but for the life of me, I can’t make sense of the words coming out of her little pink mouth.
She sighs at my dumbfounded expression. “Can I come in? It’s been a long night.”
I step aside to let her pass.
Seeing her inside this crappy shoebox apartment only adds to my confusion. I never imagined her here.
She turns in a circle, taking it all in. “It’s cozy.”
I shut the door. Lock it. Take a step toward her.
That’s all it takes for us to be just inches apart.
“How did you find me?”
“I went back to that coffee shop where we met Orrin. He was there.” She glances down at herself. “He gave me this jacket and drove me here.”
“You’re telling me he brought you here but didn’t think to accompany you up?” How could he have just let her go up her own?
“Ras, it’s three flights of stairs,” she says with a soft laugh.
“This place is dodgy,” I growl.
“He tried to come, but I insisted on doing this on my own.”
“Let me get this straight,” I begin, sure I’m about to spew out nonsense. “You broke off the engagement.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Her cheeks redden. Fuck, she’s so beautiful. I’m still not convinced this isn’t a mirage.
“I told Rafaele I’m not a virgin anymore.”
Jesus Fucking Christ. This can’t be real.
“I knew that it would disqualify me.”
“And he believed you?”
She blushes again. “I think I was pretty convincing. In any case, the proof will be here in nine months.”
Nine months? Suddenly, I can’t breathe. “What?”
She looks at me from under her lashes. “I’m pregnant. I just found out yesterday.”
My mind goes blank for a moment, trying to comprehend the news.
“The moment I found out, I knew I had to find you,” she says calmly, like she has no idea the impact her words are having on me.
“Leaving you was a mistake. The worst mistake of my life. I couldn’t stand the thought of you losing everything for me, but now I see that I should have trusted you to make that decision for yourself. I was scared, Ras. So scared that you’d wake up one day and realize I wasn’t worth it. You told me I was enough, but I didn’t believe you.” She tucks a strand of espresso-colored hair behind her ear. “Cleo made me realize how my parents screwed me up. I have all of these beliefs about love and affection that are kind of messed up, and all these memories I’d forgotten and when they came back—oh I don’t know what I’m saying.” She drags her fingers through her hair and sighs, seemingly frustrated with herself.
I stare at her mutely.
She clenches her fists by her sides. “I’m sorry, Ras. I’m so sorry for what I said to you. For how I hurt you. I promise that if you take me back, I’ll never hurt you like that again. I’ll work on myself. I’m not going to let my past dictate my future.” Her cheek turn pink. “I swear, I had a far better speech prepared, but I forgot it all as soon as I got here.”
I put my hands on her forearms. There’s something weird happening inside my chest.
“Did you say you’re pregnant?”
The pink on her cheeks deepens. “Yes. I probably threw up the morning-after pill. I know this is totally unexpected. I don’t expect you to be thrilled about it—”
I press my index finger against her lips. “I’m thrilled.”
Her eyes soften with relief, and her lips turn up against my finger.
My heart is pounding against my ribs.
She broke off the engagement.
She’s pregnant with our kid.
She must have jumped through so many hoops to come here.
And she did it anyway.
She chose me.
I engulf her in my arms. I press my nose into her hair. Her scent is the sweetest thing I’ve ever smelled, and now I’ll have it around me forever. “Cazzo. I can’t believe this. Do you know how badly I wished to have you back in my arms? Not an hour’s gone by without me thinking about you. I feel like I’m dreaming.”
“You’re not mad at me?” she asks, her voice muffled against my chest.
I should be. There’s a small part inside me that wants to punish her for walking out the way she did, but I push it away and focus on what’s more important.
I’m going to be a father.
That’s not a thought I’d expected to have today, but I am thrilled. I’ve always wanted to have kids, and to have them with Gemma is a gift. A privilege.
She’s mine. All mine.
I press my lips to the crown of her head. “I forgive you.”
Her body sags with relief.
My thoughts are still racing to make sense of everything and I pull back to look at her. “Those phone calls—”
She gives me a wry smile. “If you have just picked up, it would have made my evening a lot easier.”
“Gemma.” My voice cracks at the thought of her trying to reach me and not being able to.
She shakes her head. “No, not Gemma. Call me that other thing you always say to me.”
I cup her cheek. “Peaches.”
Her lips quirk up. There’s a slight wobble in her chin. “Yeah, that. I love it when you call me that.”
I slip my hands underneath her outrageous jacket, feeling the hollow of her waist and the flare of her hips. They fit perfectly beneath my palms. “You’re mine now. I hope you know I’m never letting you go again.”
She stands up on her toes and tips her head back, her eyes shining. “I know.”
I lean down to kiss her, but she pulls back. “Wait. There’s something else I need to say.”
My hips press against hers. “Hurry.”
“I love you,” she says all in one breath.
Sparks travel across my skin. “Wait, slow down.”
A wet kind of laughter bubbles up her throat. “God, you’re so confusing. I. Loooooove. Yoooooou.”
“Say it again.”
“I lov—”
I lock my lips down on her open mouth. My tongue moves past her teeth, tasting, licking, owning every inch. She melts against me, returning the kiss with equal vigor.
A hint of cigarette smoke reaches my nostrils. That fucking jacket. I push it off her shoulders to the floor and kick it aside before burrowing my face in the crook of her neck.
There you are. Her sweet scent is strongest there.
“I still can’t believe you’re here,” I mutter against her skin, my eyes shutting from the sheer pleasure of having her in my arms again. “I love you so fucking much.”
“Why did you return to New York?” she asks, her voice coming out breathy.
“Why do you think?” I pull back to look her in the eyes. “I couldn’t leave you. As soon as you got on that plane, I knew I needed to come back too. I didn’t have a plan. I just had to be in the same city as you.”
“If I’d known you were so close, maybe I’d have come earlier.”
“You have no idea how close I got. I saw you going to Pilates. I tried to follow you whenever I could.”
Her lips part in surprise. “Did you really?”
“I’m a masochist. It was torture to see you and not be able to touch you.”
Unshed tears wet her eyes. “Ras…”
“I know. But that’s done now. You’re back where you belong—in my arms.”
She stands on her toes and kisses me again, promising me everything.
We spend hours in bed tangled in each other until the bed frame decides to give us the middle finger and breaks beneath us with a sharp crack.
Gemma and I slide off the mattress, my cock still wet from being sheathed inside of her moments earlier. She laughs, her hair spilling over the hardwood floor. “Damn it, I was so close.”
There’s a wide grin on my face. It’s fucking weird being this happy after being nothing but miserable for the past week. I pull her to me, throw her legs over my shoulders, and press my lips against her pussy. “I don’t like leaving a job unfinished.”
She moans as I lick and tease and suck on her clit until I make her break apart.
Her fingers tighten in my hair as she rides her release. “You’re an animal,” she says, panting from exertion. “I can’t feel my legs.”
I crawl up her body and give her a deep kiss. “I’m ravenous for you.”
She laughs as I flip us and tuck her under my arm. “I can see that,” she says, nuzzling against my chest. “I missed you too.”
We lie like that for a while until Gemma insists she needs to use the bathroom. I help her up and glance down at the bed. It’s a sad sight. I should at least attempt to fix it. First, I move the mattress off and then do what I can to adjust the frame. It just needs to last us the rest of the night. Tomorrow, we’re getting out of this place. I’m not having the future mother of my child sleeping in this shithole.
But where do we go?
Something tells me Gemma won’t be too attached to the idea of staying in New York. It’s a place filled with bad memories.
I want to take her back home with me to Italy.
I want to marry her under the lemon tree in my parent’s backyard at sunset and then take her to the house I bought in Casale when Dem became the don. It’s an old building that needs to be restored, but we’d make it into a home. I’ll build her that art studio.
I rake my fingers through my hair. Fuck, I’m getting ahead of myself.
When Gemma left me in Crete, I was so damn angry I couldn’t even process her reasons for doing it. But the flight to New York gave me a lot of time to cool down and reflect on things.
She says she left because she didn’t want me to sacrifice everything for her, but I wasn’t the only one making sacrifices.
She loves her sisters. And what did I do? I asked her to abandon them for me. That’s what spending years in hiding would have meant. I didn’t even try to find a way to bring them back into her life. I was just so wrapped up in being with her in Crete.
I won’t make that same mistake again.
Gemma deserves to have the people she loves in her life. And it’s my job to make that happen.
I’ll start with Vale. There’s no reason why they should be apart, especially given how tense things are between Gemma and the rest of her family at the moment. Gemma needs Vale’s support, especially now that she’s pregnant.
And I… Well, I need Dem.
He’s been by my side through a lot of difficult things, and he knows me better than anyone. The thought of becoming a father without him as my friend? It fucking hurts.
My emotions were running high when I told him I wasn’t leaving Gemma, and while I know I did what I had to, I’ve made zero effort to reconcile since.
It’s time I stop being a coward and have the conversation we need to have.
I release a breath and tip my head back, staring at the water-damaged ceiling.
I have to fix this.
I have to call my friend.
