Ren

"Ready to go to dinner?" Gio says, extending his hand to me.

We walk to his car and drive back on the country highway toward his house. He opens his sunroof, and the stars are out in the cloudless sky, like glittering diamonds above our heads. We arrive shortly at the little highway-side restaurant, his tires crunching over the gravel in the parking lot.  It's quite old, probably built in the early 1900s—a large house with huge, dark brown lettering: "Bertolucci's Italian Dinners - Family Style" written on the front of the cream siding.

Inside is small and packed with couples in lively conversation, the tables laid with red gingham tablecloths. To be honest, it's a bit of a dive due to its age and location, but it also fits the personality of a cute, homey Italian restaurant. One of the older servers recognizes Giovanni immediately.

"Gino!" He says exuberantly, with a light Italian accent. "Be with you pronto." 

I look at Gio, eyebrows raised. "He knows you by name?"

"Luca goes to our church. I've known him for forever. Since I was a baby, probably," he shrugs.

My eyebrows hike up further, "You go to church?" 

"Yeah, I'm Catholic, remember? But we don't really go that often anymore—just Christmas and Easter." 

Luca comes back and seats us at a table tucked in the corner. Luca pulls out my chair for me and hands us each a menu. 

"How are you, Gino? You have a special Valentine this year, I see."

Gio dips his head and smiles self-consciously. "Yes." 

"Lei é bellisima." Luca nods toward me and then gives a friendly wink, pouring our waters, and I blush.

"Molto," Gio says earnestly and smiles at Luca. 

My eyes grow big. What did he say?

"Vio due state bene insieme," Luca says, motioning to the two of us with his finger.

Gio blushes, "Grazie, Luca." 

Then, Luca addresses me, "Giovanni is a very nice young man. I come to take your order shortly."

As Luca leaves us, Gio smirks and glances at me. 

"You speak Italian? What the hell else don't I know about you yet?!" I say in half-mock exasperation.

He bites his lip, eyes twinkling—maybe a little delighted he can have a private conversation in front of me. Then his eyes soften, "Only a little. My dad used to talk to me in Italian at home when I was little. It was like our secret language. I wish I could take it at school instead of Spanish. I understand it more than I can speak it now."

He picks up his menu and scans the entries, and I do the same. I think we both feel oddly grown up, sitting here among the other adult couples. We both can't choose just one thing, so we decide to split some dishes.

Luca reappears. "What can I get you, giovane amanti?" 

"A-avremo il Cannelloni Crepes e il Chicken Marsala," Gio orders, tripping a little over the first word. "E la Minestrone."

"E bere?" 

"I'll have a coke," Gio says, reverting to English.

"Maybe some vino for the signora?" Luca winks at me again.

My heart rate picks up. "Suuure. Um, house white, please?" trying hard to say it casually. 

He nods, "Assolutanmente."  

As Luca leaves, I make exaggerated wide eyes at Gio.

Gio leans forward and whispers, "You'll share with me, right?" 

"Absolute-mente, or however he said it," and we dissolve into childlike giggles.

Gio collects himself and clears his throat, "Say this, 'Si sono il mio'...." He waits for me to repeat it with an alluring look through squinched, playful eyes.

I cock my head. "Si sono il mio," I say hesitantly, with skepticism.

"...ragazzo amante," he finishes with his enigmatic expression.

"...ragazzo amante."  I can tell from his eyes he's drinking in the words, whatever I'm saying, and looks pleased with it. 

"What did I say?" I ask, mystified.

His eyes sparkle, "Hmmm, should I tell you?" 

"Come on, don't do that!" I demand. "What did I say to you?"

He smirks sexily, "Okay. You said... You are my lover-boy." 

"Well, that is true. Si sono il mio ragazzo amante," I repeat all together.

"I love hearing you speak Italian to me," he sighs, smitten.

My eyes light up. "You say something to me!" 

"Umm." He thinks hard for a moment, searching the space above my head. "Mi piace ... come mi baci,... perché ... sono pazza te," he says gazing right into my eyes, with a pretty accent. It's unbelievably seductive to hear him say anything in Italian.

I rest my chin on my hands, enraptured. "What did you say?" 

"Um," He smiles bashfully, "I like how you kiss me... because, um..." He looks away shyly, and his voice drops an octave, "I'm crazy for you."

"More!" I gush, "Say more things!" I'm already addicted.

He waves his hand in front of his face. "No. I don't really know too much more, and the only other thing I can think of is.. uh... not suitable for a restaurant." His eyes twinkle in their playful way again.

"Like what?" I whisper loudly, my eyes wide with fascination. 

He shakes his head, but I try to get it by reaching across the table to tickle it out of him, but he batts my hand away.

"Come on, stop," he laughs. "I'll tell you later," as Luca comes with Minestrone, split into two small bowls.

The dinner is delicious, and for dessert, we order the chocolate mousse, which Gio teasingly feeds me, and I practically moan in ecstasy over how good it is. When the bills arrives, Luca hands it straight to Gio. I offer to pay half the bill, and Gio refuses, so we fight until he excuses himself to use the restroom and then informs me he has already paid. 

After dinner, he drives me back to his house, and we watch a movie with his family. By the time we get to his room, at around ten, I'm in the best mood ever. He shuts the door, turns off the light, and I come over and put my arms around him. 

"I had the best day of my life," I say dreamily. "Thank you so much for everything today."

He sweeps a strand of hair behind my ear. "No problem. Happy Valentine's Day."

We kiss softly—a slow and perfect kiss. With my fingernails, I trace random patterns up and down his back. He opens my mouth with his, and kisses me deeper in response, unbuttoning my cardigan, so I unbutton his shirt, and we let them drop to the floor. I lift his t-shirt over his head, and he slides the zipper down on the back of my dress, lightly pulling the spaghetti straps off my shoulders and letting the dress slip off me. I unbuckle his belt, release the button, and pull the zipper slowly down until his pants fall off as well. 

For a second, we just stand in our underwear, touching and kissing in the darkness. 

He lifts his head again to meet my eyes. "Time seems to move differently with you, like either extra fast or super slow. I've been wanting you so bad. Can we have sex tonight?" 

"Yeah," I murmur. "Wait, what was the Italian you wouldn't tell me in the restaurant?" I grin.

"Oh," he laughs, stopping what he's doing. "I almost forgot. Um, okay, so my older cousin taught me something at my birthday party." He chuckles mischievously. 

"Okay, then, go on."

"Bella, stasera... voglio farti venire," he says low and so seductively.

"Yes, to whatever that was," I sigh. 

♡♡♡

Gio slides his head next to mine on the pillow, pulling the comforter back over us. Then he wraps his arms around me as we let our breathing calm.

"You sure you're okay?" he asks, grinning ear to ear and wiping my wet cheeks for me.

"Yeah, that was incredible," I smile, fresh tears bubbling up. "I'm sorry. I don't know why that made me so...sniff... emotional."

"That's okay," he says with awe in his eyes. "I love that it affects you that much. I want to give you more of those."

I nod, still feeling the small aftershocks. He kisses me softly and holds me close, both of us feeling overwhelmed and emotional with being together so intimately—feeling so alive. 

As I lay here, tucked safely in his arms, I keep hearing his voice call out, 'I love you!' and I'm beside myself. Although a part of me knows he said it during sex, so it was probably just said in passion, and he might not have really meant it—I love it all the same. 

After a few minutes, I move a bit under him—he has become quite heavy. "Gio!" I whisper, but he's sound asleep. Sigh—boys.

Easing out from under him, I go to the bathroom, then return to bed and cuddle up next to him, putting his arm around me, but he doesn't stir.

"I love you too, Giovanni," I tell him even though he's asleep. I never want to leave his embrace.

https://youtu.be/JV3ajTOyjWY

••• A/N •••

Thank you for reading!

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He finally got her there! Woot! 

And they both said I love you—freakin finally! ❤️ Well, kinda, right? 😂

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