Chapter 41

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Giada

When Andrea and I pull away from each other and he quickly goes to gather his shirt, something in my chest twists painfully. This is it, I think. This is the part where he leaves me behind once again, my appearance a mess and his cum dripping out of me.

I was stupid for thinking this would be different, I chide myself. So I turn away from the man, putting my dress on the way it should before hugging myself around the middle to stop the hollow feeling in my stomach to spread. Then I listen to his footsteps, trying not to be affected as I wait for him to disappear.

God, I'm pathetic, already feeling the prick at the back of my eyes as I blink back tears.

Only when Andrea's footsteps tentatively come closer, instead of heading for the elevator does my body stiffen. What's happening now? I wish he would just leave so I could cry about it and be done with it.

"Giada?" he asks softly, setting a hand on the base of my neck.

"Mh?" I ask without turning around.

"What's wrong?" He sounds so unsure, worried even, and suddenly I feel stupid. He wasn't going to leave, was he? Ugh, and here I am, swallowing the lump in my throat as I try not to cry since I apparently have no reason to.

"Nothing," I insist, chuckling unconvincingly.

"Will you look at me then?"

"Uhm, yeah. Of course," I attempt a weak laugh, blinking a few more times before turning around. "What's up?"

I wish I could slap myself right now. Did I honestly just ask him what's up? If there were an award for awkwardness-

"What's wrong, Giada?" Andrea pushes since he clearly sees through my act.

"Nothing, really. It was stupid. It's nothing." I look away, unable to lie straight to his face without slipping up even worse but of course, he won't have that. Nope, instead, the man gently tilts my head up with his fingers on my chin.

He studies me for a moment, brows furrowed and worry etched in every inch of his face. "Is it about what we just did? I know we planned on taking things slow but-" I cut him off, unable to let him ramble and worry about something that I don't regret in the slightest.

Truth be told, that was some of the best sex I've ever had. Could be related to the eight months I haven't had Andrea like that or the killer view but the fact stays the same. No way I can regret it.

"It's not that, trust me." I groan, hating that I have to admit my silly worries to him now. That's what I get for being a sucky liar. "I guess I just thought that you'd leave again."

There's a flash of hurt crossing Andrea's eyes, closely followed by what I think is guilt. It's fascinating how well I can still read him.

And besides the point.

He exhales roughly, his hand moving from my chin to my cheek where his thumb gently strokes my skin. The gesture is so tender I feel like crying all over again. What's wrong with me?

"I wasn't going to. I just got my shirt so I could clean you up a bit until you can take a shower. Fuck, come here," he says, pulling me back against his chest.

I gladly follow his lead, bury my face in his warm chest and breathe him in. He smells like he always does but with a hint of sweat and surprisingly, me. I like it and smile freely against his skin.

His broad arms envelop me, successfully making the rest of the world disappear for a moment so all that's left is him and me.

"I'm not going to leave again," he mutters against the top of my head. I nod against him.

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