My head snaps up at Giovanni's offer, shoulders squared. I'm so caught off guard that it's nearly impossible to find the courage to look at him.

I sputter incoherently, pushing off the chair. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Not last time I checked."

"You have to be to suggest that."

I'm still reeling from the bombshell he just forced me to acknowledge. I press my hand to my head, stopping by the window. My eyes are closed, but I can feel the harsh sunlight radiating through the flimsy glass.

"I have to be out of my mind to want you all the time?"

"If that were the reason you were asking me to go, but it's not."

"Tell me what my motives are, Scarlett."

I chuckle at the hint of frustration in his tone. "You're asking me to move in with you because you don't want me here. Because you want me away from Dixon."

"And is that a fucking crime?"

"No!" I shout back, turning to him finally. His eyes are wide and filled with anger. "No! It's admirable! You are protective, and it is one of the reasons I'm so crazy about you."

"Then what's the problem?"

"The problem is we are not ready for that. We have only been back together for days, Giovanni. Before that, we were separated for months!"

"Yes, we were separated. We were both miserable. None of that shit matters. We are together now." He pushes himself from the edge of the stove, moving toward me with a calculated ease to his step. "And we will be staying together."

He tilts his chin up. "Unless you don't want me?"

"Don't."

He smiles softly, his tongue darting out to wet his full lips before he bites down, knowing exactly what he's doing.

"Do you not want to live with me? Is that it?"

"Don't twist this on me."

He plants both feet firmly in front of me. "It's a simple question."

"That you already know the answer of."

"Do I?"

I bristle with frustration when his hand caresses my face, holding me gently. He's trying to distract me. "You are asking me to move across the country and live with you in your house."

"You were already going to move to LA. Now you'll just be moving to a different location."

I look at him pointedly, and his smile widens. He holds my face and leans down, gracious with his lips as they coaxingly travel over my face, marking my skin with his tenderness. Unable to help the overwhelming affection I feel when he is this close to me, my eyes close to appreciate his love, despite my reluctance.

"Imagine it. You and I, every morning. Every night."

My heart flutters.

"Dinners and days off spent doing absolutely nothing."

I begin to smirk provocatively. "I doubt we'd be doing nothing."

His laugh is warm against my temple. "You're getting the idea."

It's not hard to picture bliss. Giovanni and I creating a semi-normal life with one another. It's also not hard to picture a scenario where everything around us goes to shit. We've had plenty of experience with the latter.

"We've been apart for so long, Giovanni," I whisper, dropping my head to his chest. His heartbeat is calm and reassuring, thumping against my cheek. "I don't want to jump into something we're not ready to handle. I want to do this right."

"Scarlett."

"I don't want to lose you. I can't lose you." As I utter the words, my hands fist the smooth shirt at the base of his back, my desperation unleashing into my actions. His chest expands, and I hear his sigh.

"I've made so many mistakes. I have no right to tell you I'll stay and expect you to believe it after everything that's happened," he says over my head. With a soft tug, he forces me to look at him. My heart lurches to a halt as his thumb smooth's across my parted lips.

"We've both made mistakes," I breathe.

I'm troubled by the storm raging in his eyes. He shakes his head, sucking in a deep breath.

"All I can tell you is that I love you, and when you're even twenty feet away from me, I panic... While Dixon may have opened the window to get me to ask you, in all truth, there hasn't been a moment since I met you that I didn't want you near me."

He's good. Really good. My eyes slant at him. "You're quite the talker."

He smirks, knowing he's cracked my barrier of resistance. "Always have been."

"What happens when I'm sick? Or in a bad mood? Or wake you up night after night with nightmares that I cannot help? Giovanni, I'm not perfect like Lola."

"Perfect like Lola?" He throws his head back, finding much amusement in my statement. "Scarlett, have you ever lived with a model? Better yet, a famous model?"

I purse my lips. "No, not that I can recall."

"Well, it's a nightmare. An absolute nightmare."

"I could be a nightmare too."

He shakes his head. "I'm not buying that."

He pulls me closer, his gaze unmoving on my mouth. "Move in with me, Scarlett."

My blood pumps wildly as I stare at his lips too.

"I'll think about it," I whisper, conceding the only inch I'll allow myself to give him. I still think it's a terrible, rushed idea that will prove detrimental to both of us, but I cannot turn him down flat. I can't.

Not while he's staring at me like this.

...

By the time we actually board the plane, somehow managing to stay under the radar to the rest of the world, we've drifted into a calm, quiet repertoire. The car ride over was spent firmly in reality. As my phone buzzed nonstop in my hand, my old life begging me back, I could only wait for the buzzing to stop.

With Dixon so heavy on my mind, my only desire is to escape. Dealing with Norman and my current unemployment is something I will need to tackle when I return. Still, I don't want to worry Rebecca and Carlos. As we enter the wide cabin of the plane, I send quick texts to both of them, letting them know where I'll be.

And then I shut off my cell. For good.

I don't plan to use it this entire trip.

When I look up, Giovanni's looking at me. More importantly, he's watching me. But he turns away, directing his attention to the pilot, standing at the door to the cockpit. As they speak quietly, I take a seat in one of the large, creamy leather seats, setting my bag down on the seat beside me.

Giovanni comes round the seat, his body graceful and fine as he takes a place across from me. I offer him a weak smile, hearing the door seal behind me. It happened like a flash. An overwhelming wave of uncertainty. It washed over me, seeping through my skin to ensure longevity. As much as I want to be excited, happy, something is stopping me.

Even though I'm not looking, I know his attention is on me and hasn't left.

It's taking quite a bit of getting used to– handling Giovanni's unfaltering solidity. For six months, I wondered if his brazenness was just a front, something he forced upon me to sink his claws as deep as they could go.

And now that everything is back out and in the open, I'm reminded that he's always been himself with me. These past months were the lie. He'll always push, he'll always want more for us. It's his nature to be brutally honest, and it's truly what attracted me to him.

It's just now there's so much I don't want to confront.

The fact that I know he's going to make me feel it all is terrifying.

My eyes close as the plane begins to move along the runway. "You're looking at me."

"It's hard not to."

I huff darkly. "Because I'm scowling?"

"Because you're beautiful."

Oh. I meet his gaze with one swift glance. His sculpted lips curve, just barely.

Just like that, I feel laid bare.

"You can't say things like that to me." My chest feels full.

He settles back, his long legs extending out between us. "Why not?"

I fail to hide my smirk. "Because I'm reveling. And when you say things like that, I can't."

"Which is exactly the point. I want you happy on this trip."

"I want it too, more than anything," I confess. My eyes betray me, darting to my cell.

"Do you want to call him?"

"No."

"It's okay if you do."

I shake my head, frowning deeply. "No, it's not. He isn't who I thought he was."

I reach over, stuffing my dead cell into my bag as far as it can go. "He told me he loathed me... when I was a baby. He gave me away, Giovanni. He's been in my life for years and said nothing, knowing that I'm already plenty fucked up."

"Maybe he knew it would fuck you up more to know."

"Maybe," I shrug, "but I deserved to know."

"You're right." He tilts his head. "But you know he's not going to just give up. You can't just will him away, Scarlett."

"I know. I know he isn't, and I know I'm going to want answers to the questions I have... but not today. Not now. Right now, I want to disappear– with you."

"My aunt's villa has an adjoining apartment. We will have our time together."

I begin to smile. "Good... cause I'd like to actually get to know you."

His smile matches mine. "It's about time, isn't it?"

...

The sun beats down upon us as we stride over the tarmac towards the double doors. Even as exhausted as I am after the ten-hour flight across the Atlantic, I don't have to see rolling hills to be excited–or to know that I'm halfway across the world. We left New York in daylight, and yet, landing in Florence after only ten hours, we've landed again in the early light. The day is just starting here.

Giovanni, sporting a crisp white linen shirt and denim jeans, walks beside me. Perched on his nose are dark sunglasses, the same shade as his hair, which is flowing freely behind him, swept by a sharp gust of wind. With a skilled quickness, I take note of his unmatchable beauty, memorizing the slightly thicker stubble across his defined jaw, the olive skin that only brightens in the sun. He turns his attention to me, no doubt feeling my gaze.

"I can't believe we're here," I whisper as he wraps an arm atop my shoulders, pulling me in. My hands, which wrap around each side of his waist, move low enough to get under the thin shirt, wanting to feel his bare skin.

We enter through the private entrance into a brightly lit room. I'm surprised to find no one in it, apart from employees. But as we continue forward, gaining quite a few looks from the staff, I realize we're in a separate section of the airport.

Suddenly I hear shouting. My first instinct is to hide my face, but when I hear Giovanni laugh, his chest shaking with laughter, I look for where the voices are coming from.

"Gio! Gio!"

"Luca! Marco! Ciao," Giovanni exclaims, lifting his arm as the tall, huge one of the pair runs into Giovanni's body.

"Mi sei mancato, cugino."

"Come stai, Marco?" Giovanni utters joyfully, pulling back. "Sei in forma!"

The other man, a stubbier, kinder-looking man, pulls Gio away from Marco, clasping him tightly. I smile softly at how Giovanni has to bend slightly to fully embrace him with as much vigor.

"È ora che torni a casa!"

"Stai benissimo, cugino. È bello essere tornati. I missed this place."

Giovanni slaps a hand against his back, pulling away to look at me. I am struck in my own awe, realizing only now, stupidly, that Giovanni speaks fluent Italian. And why wouldn't he? When he places a hand on my back, it's nearly overwhelming to my senses.

I hadn't thought he could get any hotter. I was wrong.

"Marco, Luca, this is Scarlett Bardot. She is my girlfriend. Scarlett, these are my cousins."

When they both look at me, their brows high, their eyes observing, I smile politely. They both move forward and stun me with pecks on the cheek before moving back, speaking in Italian again. When I hear the word Lola mentioned in their quick dribble, my gaze hardens, shifting to Giovanni.

"Lei è diversa," Giovanni says, the smile wiping from his face, deepening with emotion. When I look at them again, the tall one, Marco, begins to grin.

"My young cousin says you're different from his ex."

"I sure hope to be," I quip in reaction, frustrated to not know their language. I pause momentarily, hoping they don't like Lola. I hadn't even thought of that.

"Any person that sees through that horrible woman is fine by me," Luca states after a moment, with a nod of finality to Giovanni. "Zia will love her, I have a feeling."

Marco shrugs, smiling wider. "He's always right about those. You know, we never even met her. Said she didn't have time to visit. And then to betray Gio with his no-good brother–"

"Alright, alright. That's enough." Giovanni grabs my hand as they begin to lead us out, obviously knowing where they are going. "How is Maria?"

"Fun as ever. She has a new boyfriend. He lives down the street."

"Another one?"

"You get your promiscuity from her, I think, cugino," Marco quips, earning a slap to the back of the head from Giovanni.

"Ah!"

I blush, looking down at my feet, and Giovanni's slender fingers lace between my own.

"That life is behind me."

A radiating happiness blossoms within me at Giovanni's endearing confession. I peer up at him, pleasantly surprised to find him ignoring the looks of disbelief from his frighteningly blunt family members. He brings my hand to his smooth lips, pressing down on the skin.

"Giovanni Martinelli. Smitten. Who would have thought the day would come?"