"Want a ride home?"

I look from my bike to his motorcycle, silently already deciding I do want one. Yet that would mean he is dropping me off at my apartment, and since I lied last time that happened, I would have to walk home. It wasn't a problem last time, since I was by bike, but to walk three blocks after a shift?

On top of that, his biking friends are waiting, trying to judge whether or not Riri is joining them for the ride home. It is in everyone's interest to say no to his offer. "No, thank you."

He doesn't let me off that easily, unfortunately. Not even when I've already grabbed my bike out of the bicycle stand, and am heading out of the brasserie's sight. "Is your boyfriend picking you up, then?"

Is he ever going to let that go? As I decide how to answer him (lie again or explain it wasn't the truth), my phone rings, delaying my execution. Thankful to whoever is calling me, I pick up without even looking at the caller's ID. 

"Oh my God, Isa, thank God I caught you. Listen I am so sorry about this afternoon, dad all of a sudden took me along for a godawful drive and mom took my phone for some reason, and when I went to tell them to at least allow me to send you a text, they wouldn't even hear me out—"

"Liam, calm down," I chuckle, holding up a finger to Gabriele to tell him to wait. He complies with a small nod, leaning forward on his bike as he does exactly that. Wait.

"I called mom before I went to work, she told me about the situation and apologized. I told her it was ridiculous to take your phone, but I guess they're just worried about you."

A deep, relieved sigh sounds over the phone. "Thank God. If you want, I can come down there now to help you with your assignment. Or tomorrow? I'm free."

I smile despite myself, thankful he has found the will to leave his room, even if it is only for now. "Considering it is nine, I would say we should meet up tomorrow. Unless you've so suddenly turned into a night owl?"

"Well, I fell asleep halfway into dad's road trip, so I won't go to bed for a few hours. It's this or watching TV with our parents."

Looking over my shoulder and seeing Gabriele momentarily distracted by his friends, I shrug. "You can pass by. I should warn you, though, Zuri and Malia are home."

He snorts. "That's fine. I'm not scared of them." A short pause. "Should I be?"

I grin. "As long as you don't interrupt their show, I think you're okay. I have to go now, though, see you around ten at my place?"

"See you."

He hangs up first, and when I turn back to Gabriele, he is already watching me. I tilt my head sideways, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't. He is still patiently waiting for my answer to a forgotten question.

"I have to get home now, but it was nice seeing you. Are you joining Alessandro for lunch on Monday? He told Anthony he would be here, se he better know the boy is counting on him."

In the dark, I can't quite get a good look at his face, but he drawls, "I'll make sure to remind him. Sadly, I am preoccupied at the golf court that day, so I won't be able to make it."

Golf, huh? So he's richer than rich. I guess with his mom already coming from a rich family and on top of that having an own firm, he should be. The question is, if he has so much money, why is he spending his time here, on a motorcycle outside a cheap brasserie, with an exhausted waitress? 

"Well, you have to keep this a secret, but Monday is my free day. I can't wait for Anthony to tell me all about Alessandro's face!" I grin, getting on my bike. His laugh sounds behind me, and I want to leave it at that and bike home. Though when I start to leave the place, I hear his motorcycle starting as well. Instead of going away, the sound gets louder the longer I listen. Seeing as his friends were heading in the opposite direction, he has told them to take off without them.

He keeps my pace, his engine now silent considering me being slow. He's silent too, as though nothing is up. Finally, noticing me glancing at him every once in a while, he smiles, still looking directly ahead. "I won't tell Alessandro, if that's what you're worried about."

"It's not. What I'm worried about is you stalking me." I give him a pointed look, though he pretends to miss it.

He doesn't completely ignore my statement, though. "Stalking you? I am only trying to figure out if you were lying to our faces, or if your boyfriend is a dick."

My cheeks heat up. How did he figure my lie out this fast?

"He's not a dick, but he's..."

"Nonexistent?"

Fuck. "Quite."

He shakes his head, muffling a chuckle with one gloved hand. "That desperate to get rid of us, huh?"

Again, I can do nothing but feel my cheeks heat up. "Forgive me for not wanting things to get messy."

He sends me a boastful grin at the next red stoplight. "What if I say I'll forgive you if you join me at the golf court Monday?"

I almost choke on my own spit. "Sorry?"

Without missing a beat, "I would like you to join me at the golf court on Monday. You said it was your free day? I figured you would like a lazy day, full of sun and champagne."

For a second, I hesitate if I should start laughing. I feel the need to at this ridiculous offer, because what else than a sick joke could this be?

Starting to shake my head, my voice hardens. "Look, it's fine if that's your daily thing, drinking champagne, but you shouldn't joke about that around other people. It's like keeping a water bottle at an arm's length of a dehydrated person."

He frowns. "What? It's not a joke, I'm serious. If you want to join me, you can. It would be completely at my expenses, of course. Since I'm the one inviting you."

My eyes nearly bulge out of my head. "No, no. I can't allow that! That's too much."

This time, he laughs. Softly, but he does nonetheless. And this time, I can practically hear the money in his laughter. "It's this, or buying a new bike. I think Alè would kill me if I went with the second option."

"A day at the golf court costs about as much as a new bike?!"

His grin stays glued in place. "Maybe two, yes."

"Two bikes?!" Good lord, just how much money does this man have?

"No, two days. Yet since we'll be a party of two, it counts as one."

Dear God. How does one waste that much money on a hobby like golf combined with a glass or two? There's so many better things to spend money on. 

In the silence I leave between us, he suddenly laughs softly. "Isabella, I'm only kidding. It isn't that expensive, and if it was, I would never joke around about it like that. Let us just enjoy a day off, okay? I'll come pick you up and I'll drop you off at home, too. You have nothing to worry about, except your outfit and a phone that's working."

New panic washes over me, wave after wave. "My outfit? Oh my God, I have nothing to wear to an event like that! What do people even wear on the golf course? Dresses? No, you can't play in them— oh my God! Do you expect me to play?! I've never even seen a golf course, let alone played the sport! Gabriele—"

A gentle hand is a steadying weight on my arm, his smile like a cold drink at the end of a warm day. Refreshing and allowing me to take a breath of relief. "Hey, now, don't you worry. I didn't mean it like that, I simply meant that the only thing you need to do is pick an outfit; I'll take care of everything else. Breakfast? We'll stop once we're halfway in our drive. Lunch? I've got it. I'll pick your up around eight thirty, sounds good?"

A tiny bit of my anxiety leaves, but not nearly enough for me to be able to sleep tonight. "What about my clothes? All I have is old, visibly worn and not even last season, but ten seasons ago! People will hate me if you take me to such an expensive club, Gabriele, and then they'll hate you too—"

"Isabella, darling, no one will hate you. Why don't you go with an outfit that makes you comfortable and confident? I'm not talking sweatpants, but perhaps a pair of shorts and a cute top? Do you have a skirt you like?"

My mind races over all the possibilities in my closet. They seem too little and too much all at once. "I don't know. What do other women wear? Maybe I have something similar—"

"Love, I'm not bringing you there just for you to look like all those women practically throwing themselves onto everyone walking around there. I want you to feel comfortable, and it does not matter if you fit in. We'll be with the four us anyway, no need to be comparing yourself."

Still. "If you don't tell me, I'll google it, and the results will be worse than what I'll wear if you can just explain."

A deep, but not irritated, sigh next to me. "Most of the women wear white, sometime black and white. A polo, and then a skirt. What do you call it again when there's a short underneath, so you can sport with it?"

"Do I look like I know?"

Gabriele chuckles at me. "I'm sure you will find something. And if you don't have anything to match that, which, like I said, isn't necessary, you can always wear a sundress. I love those."

Now that is something I can work with. "Are you sure?"

He nods, an encouraging smile on his face, lit by the moon. "Of course I am. But really, do whatever you're comfortable with. And don't worry about me. I think you'll look stunning in anything you've picked."

Noticing I'm still not completely sure, he adds, "And you've seen me drenched to the core, so I have no right to speak."

An unexpected snort leaves me, and mortification almost takes me out. Where the hell did the come from?!

I glance beside me, subtly, and notice he is only smiling as he looks down at his bike. His helmet is on the gas tank, since we are moving at the incredibly fast pace of my biking, so I have unrestricted view of his picture-worthy face. Because he doesn't laugh at me, I resume what I was going to say before my normal, people-approved laugh decided to bail on me.

"Drenched you was just as good-looking as normal you, so you have no right to relate to my crisis."

He lifts his face, only to show me just how skeptical he seems at that comment. "Oh, really? Well, in that case, you need to look in a mirror more often. Because, may I remind you, I have only seen you in work clothes smudged with ketchup and disheveled hair at the end of your shift, and I already think you're the most stunning woman I've ever seen. So, a goddess like yourself has no right to relate either."

He thinks I look like a goddess? 

Gabriele smirks at my red cheeks and lowered eyes. "That's right. Now, we're almost at the block you live in, so let me just finish saying this; wear what you want. And, if you want, we could call or text about your choices in the morning. About the other matter, there's a first time for everything. You could try it and then decide if you want to keep playing. It won't be your best game, but it'll be your first, and I'll keep my mates in check. Again, nothing to worry about."

Another thing I have to confess. But first, I don't have your number."

He blinks slowly, as though he forgot about that matter. Then, "Okay, I'll give it to you once we're at your door."

"About that..."

A deep chuckle, as though he already know what I'll say. "Yes?"

"I live three blocks down from the one I led you to the other night."

Instead of anger, shock or disappointment showing on his face, I see approval in the way he purses his lips. "Pretty smart, I'm not going to lie. Are you leading me towards a dorm room you don't live in now too, or?"

My breath of relief is inaudible, but I feel it lighten my chest. "No, I wouldn't remember it, so I wouldn't be able to find it in time for Monday."

Before he can say anything else, "It's here."

I try to see it through his eyes. It isn't in the best or most expensive neighborhood, and it doesn't look like it's in the best conditions, especially not by night. It could be worse, but I'm sure he has never lived in an apartment—or house, for that matter—in this state. Not sure if he's ever been inside one like this.

"You have roommates, I heard?" he asks instead of commenting on the apartments, and parks his bike. He must not be ecstatic to leave it behind here, but again, he doesn't comment on it.

"Two. Zuri and Malia. And that's my brother's car. He doesn't live here, but it was his phone call earlier tonight, so it must be past ten—"

"Not yet," he interrupts, following me towards the entrance of the block. He is so close I can smell his cologne, feel his body heat and see his hand reaching around me to open the door. He doesn't, not yet, and leaves us in the dark for a couple more seconds.

"We have ten more minutes, but I'll let you go after I've given you my number." Right. That's why he's stalling. Get your mind out of the gutter, Isa.

I give him my phone and try to not look as affected by his body heat as I am, all while staring at his eyes flicking over my cracked phone screen. They're green, and they remind me of warm summer days spent in nature and good memories.

"I've added Alessandro's as well," he murmurs silently, handing me my phone back. My breath gets caught in my throat when he leans forward, and then plants a feather-light kiss on my cheek. "I'll see you on Monday, gorgeous."