Vincent

Summer

Surprisingly, I fell asleep relatively quickly. I blamed it on the influence of the painkillers. But, I woke up with my face pressed against his bare chest, my legs tangled with his. I had to blink a few times before I registered that I was in bed with him.

Slowly, I moved my legs, trying not to move too much. I've never slept with a man, I was unsure of what to do in a situation with

"Bella," I heard him mumble, "what are you doing?"

"Um, nothing," I responded, stilling with nervousness.

"You're very handsy," he said, sitting up, "when you sleep," he clarified, although I already realized what he meant.

"How am I supposed to respond to something like that?" I raised my eyebrows, questioning him as I sat up, scooting away from him, feeling slightly awkward after what he said.

Don't get me wrong, I was a confident and self-assured girl, like Kurt Cobain said in Smells Like Teen Spirit, but his words made me feel uncomfortable. Mainly because I didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. After last night, I couldn't tell if he was genuinely interested in me or if I was the woman in the red dress to his Dante. Just someone to use for appearances and nothing more.

I didn't want that. I was still young and impressionable, I'm sure something like that would make me feel bad and insecure in the future.

"Go get dressed," he patted my thigh as he got out of bed, "we'll go get prima colazione."

I frowned, blinking at him. Was this another business thing? Right after last night? Already?

"Why?"

"To make it up to you," he said, "I'll be back, go get dressed," he pointed to the dresser before he left the room.

Awe, fuck. What did this mean? I was never really nervous around boys, I was a confident girl that knew some guys found her pretty. But this? This was such a game-changer!

I needed advice!

Luca!

I quickly got up, brushed my teeth, ran a brush through my hair, and put on a pair of jeans and a band t-shirt that read 'The Rolling Stones' with a picture of Mick Jagger. I slipped on a pair of vans and quickly went downstairs, silently praying that Luca would be there when I walked into the kitchen.

Thank you, Lord!

"Luca!" I smiled, so utterly happy to see him.

He turned around, "oh, ciao, Vin ready to leave?"

"You're coming?" I asked.

"Eh, for protection over Vin, yeah, it's like my job," he smiled, "did you come to me for advice?" he smiled, leaning into my face.

I frowned. Damn. How obvious could I be?

"This is a good thing, if you're not gonna say anything," he took a sip of the glass of scotch he had, "it's just you two, besides me and three others but we're just there for protection and nothing else."

"Oh-"

"Lex, come here," Vincent called as he walked into the kitchen.

He was wearing a pair of slacks and a nice polo. The fuck? I didn't know I was supposed to dress nicely? He didn't comment on my outfit though, just grabbed my hand and led me out to the garage.

"Motorcycle?" he asked me.

"It's a one-seater," I looked up at him.

"I have another," he smiled, grabbing a pair of keys before picking up a helmet, "here, put it on, cara."