CHAPTER FOUR

He's following me.

I don't dare say anything to Sammy in case she freaks out again like she did last night in the club.

Does it scare me that a potentially dangerous man is showing some sort of interest in me?

Not one bit.

I should be very scared, but the only feeling I'm experiencing is one of excitement.

I'm embracing it, too. Because not once in my entire twenty-one years of life have I felt what I'm feeling right now. Not even when I got a full ride to a prestigious university.

I'm even scared to admit the feeling to myself.

I've heard my mother utter the word countless times before when she meets a new guy who she thinks will change her life forever. I vowed as a little girl that I would never be like her. I will never define myself by a man.

But damn, it, I'm feeling all sorts of things as Sammy and I sit in a diner, and I look out the window every five seconds to the car that followed us here. It's parked across the street again.

I know what that means. As soon as we finish at the diner, Sammy and I will walk to our apartment, and he will follow and then know exactly where I live.

I'm still not feeling an ounce of fear, and that feeling intensifies.

That horrid sense of feeling alive.

"Are you okay?" Sammy asks, concern in her eyes. "You've been very quiet."

I clear my throat and thank the waitress who puts a cup of coffee in front of me. "I'm fine, just a little stressed about tomorrow's assignment."

"I thought you finished that already."

The girl knows me too well.

"I did, but I just have to go over it again one more time." I lie.

She's been my friend since orientation week, we share a small living space, yet I don't tell her the guy she said was mafia is currently sitting in his very fancy sports car waiting for us.

The truth is, I don't want her calling the cops on him. I'm enjoying this little charade too much.

I should be concerned that he knew we were at the bus stop today.

Wait, how did he know about the bus stop?

It occurs to me then and there that he might already know where I live.

What if he really is some mafia guy and he's just waiting to kidnap us and sell us on the black market as sex slaves!

Okay, now I'm a tad bit scared. I didn't think of that scenario before.

"I thought maybe we could visit my mom for Thanksgiving and then take the bus to see Phoebe for Christmas." Sammy says, and that gets my attention.

"What? No."

Sammy looks disappointed. "You don't want to go see my mom?"

"Of course I want to see your mom." I say quickly. "But I'm not going to take time off for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I'll go with you for Thanksgiving, though."

The truth is I don't want to go back to the town I grew up in. I haven't been back since I left, and I have no intention of going back either. A fact Phoebe knows all too well, she never asks me to visit her. In the past, we would meet each other halfway and spend Christmas in a cheap motel.

Whereas Sammy loves her mother, I don't want to risk running into mine.

The chime at the door goes off, signaling someone entering, and my eyes immediately shoot there.

Alessandro Moretti enters the diner, looking larger than life, and I gulp.

He looks even hotter today than what he did last night.

Today, he's wearing all black, fitting for him.

A dark angel, sent down to heaven to stir shit up in my life. He has bad guy written all over him, and if I had an ounce of self-preservation, this would be the time I got up and ran far, far away.

But I don't, so I stay seated, and I follow him with my eyes as he slides effortlessly into a booth in my line of sight.

"Are you sure?" Sammy asks, unaware that my world has been officially rocked. "Phoebe came all this way for your birthday, I thought we could return the favor."

"Mmmm." I reply in way of response.

The same young waitress who was serving us is attending to him now, and I can see the way her cheeks are flushing when he turns those chocolate babies on her.

A flash of jealousy shoots through me. I don't want those eyes on anyone but me.

I know I'm being ridiculous, I don't even know this guy apart from what Sammy said and the articles I found on the internet.

One thing is sure, though.

I feel an inexplicable connection to him, and we haven't even spoken one word to each other.

When his eyes find mine again, I break the contact and focus on Sammy, who is still going on about Christmas.

"If we take the early bus on Christmas Eve morning, we can still work on the twenty-third." She smiles at me like she's found the cure for cancer.

"I'm not going to my hometown." I tell her. "If Phoebe wants to spend Christmas with us, we can send her bus fare. It would be cheaper that way."

"Good idea!" She beams. "We can get a Christmas tree!"

Christmas isn't a particularly happy time for me, so apart from seeing Phoebe over Christmas break, I don't celebrate it at all. But Sammy doesn't know that because I haven't been completely honest with her. I've kept parts about myself hidden because I don't want anyone's pity.

I'm suddenly feeling claustrophobic, so I utter an "Excuse me" and get up to go to the restroom.

As soon as I'm alone, I take in raggedy breaths to calm myself down, panic, trying to overtake me that I try very hard to forget. It's been a while since I've had a panic attack, I usually drown myself in my studies and work so that I never get a chance to think about anything related to my childhood.

As soon as I've calmed down, I open the tap and splash cold water on my face. As I pat my face dry, I'm reminded of a scared five-year-old little girl. I once again vow to never be that girl again.

The door to the restroom opens, and I plan to leave, but a tall figure enters, closing the door behind him.

Alessandro Moretti blocks the only exit , standing only a few feet away from me and god. He's more beautiful up close.

"This is the ladies' room." I'm surprised how strong my voice comes out. "And why have you been following me?"

He crosses his broad arms and narrows his eyes at me, his head slightly tilted as if he's examining me. "You're smart."

His voice is deep and full, complimenting his stunning outward appearance.

I mirror his stance and lean against the sink. "So I've been told."

We stare each other down for a minute, and I'm sure men have cowered in his gaze, but I'm feeling a sudden rush of bravery.

"Why did you leave so soon last night?" He's the first to break the silence, and I quietly release the breath I didn't even know I was holding.

"There was an emergency."

"What kind of emergency?" He doesn't miss a beat.

"The kind that's none of your business." I retort back quickly.

Before I know what's happening, I'm shoved into a wall with an over six foot block of muscle pinning me.

He smells like an ocean breeze early in the morning when the sun is just coming over the horizon. His face is in the dark locks of my hair, and he takes a deep breath in.

I'm utterly, completely, wholly, fucking mesmerized.

"You have a smart mouth, Farrah Simpson, I'll be seeing you around,"