Hello!
I'm finally done with PART 2! This here was a hard child to bear.
First of all, let me say thank you for all the nice comments and encouragements I received with PART 1. I'm always very, very glad to receive your thoughts about it, the positive and the constructive criticism too.
I understand some people didn't like part 1 all that much, thought it too lenghy and overly stretched. I hear you. Thank you for letting me know where I could do better. I just felt the need to set a good foundation for this story. I didn't feel like I could go on without explaining the characters. Who they are. Why they are. Where they were, etc.
Anyway, to those of you who didn't like it (I imagine you won't be coming back) thanks for not being mean about it.
Ah! And about an editor. I tried to get one with the 'English being only a second language thing'. No one ever wrote back to me.
@fawnsage, you're always reading my stories, so let me give you this warning: I'll hurt people. Sorry. I'm mean, you should know that by now. In the end everyone's happy, though. Promise
Anyway, part 2 is full of action. And it sets the tone for the parts to come.
I hope you like it. Forgive any mistakes.
XOXO,
Nana.
*****
LAURA
Stealthily, I swung my legs out of bed, put on my robe, and tiptoed my way out the room. I cast one last lingering glance at Rocco, sound asleep in my bed. His olive skin, contrasting beautifully with the white silk bed sheets tangled around his legs, begged me to crawl back in with him. He was snoring softy. A rhythmic, deep sound synchronized with the risings and fallings of his chest. My fingertips itched with a desire to touch the little curly hairs covering it. He made my bed warm, full and inviting. As tempting as the invitation was, though, I had to tend to my dinner otherwise there would be no dinner to speak of. I closed the door and walked down the stairs, leaving Rocco to his much deserved sleep.
He arrived yesterday. Since then we had dined, talked, fucked, then fucked some more. Not necessarily in that order. The talking part was probably the longest. Or at least it had felt like the longest part, at the end of which we reached an agreement. We would give this thing between us a fair chance. We would try and see where that would lead us. Once upon a time I had thought the long distance thing to be a mistake. Now I was going to do it.
Still, an uncertainty was gnawing at me, like the tiniest of stones in my shoe. Rocco was everything I could ever want. The perfect man. I had no reason to complain or wish for more. Nor the right to do it, either. Hadn't I told Riley I wanted to have someone in my life only a month ago? And now here was Rocco, offering it all to me. In spite of that my mind insisted in enumerating all the reasons why, in the future, our relationship would perish.
He lives an ocean away! He travels too much! You can't leave the bistro! You'll be more apart than together!
You haven't even told him you want children, yet. What if he doesn't want them?
Look at you! This has barely begun and you're already doubting it will work!
How do you even feel about him? Are you in love with him?
Not in love. I wasn't in love with him. Not yet, anyway. I liked him very much. Attraction, and not just physical, was what was drawing us together. Rocco was...well, he was perfect! No other word for it. He was everything I wanted. Everything I had visualized when I had imagined my faceless and handsome future.
But wasn't it Freud or one of those guys who said something about how when people have all they ever wanted they get bored and depressed? Because, once you have it all, you have nothing else to wish for. You become a wantless, ambitionless creature. You get bored. Empty.
Don't be stupid, Laura.
In my kitchen, I focused on preparing my lamb ribs to blot those useless thoughts out. I tossed the meat, some shallots and poured most of the contents of Rocco's Merlot into a casserole. There were about three fingers of the burgundy liquid left in the bottle. The ticking clock on the wall told me it was way too early to be drinking, but I paid it no mind. I was a nerve wreck. I needed the dinner party I was throwing for Rocco to be perfect. After weeks of building him up I finally had the opportunity to introduce him to my sister. And to Riley. At the thought of him I raised the bottle to my lips.
Riley who had, seemingly, disappeared.
Whenever I called him, if he happened to pick the phone up, he'd say he was busy writing, Class A bulllshiter that he was. His damn writing and creativeness were always the excuses he employed. He never wrote anything at his apartment though. Mostly, he wrote at the bistro. And the last time he had been at the bistro, about two weeks ago, had been weird, to say the least. He just sat there without his computer, talked about little, meaningless things like
"Oh, looks like rain."
and stayed for scarcely one full hour. If I happened to ask
"What have you been up to lately?"
, he'd answer
"Oh, nothing, just trying to write."
He was avoiding me. And I was letting him.
I told him I wanted babies and
someone
. Now he was all weird. I had no idea what his problem was. Actually, I kind of did. I had surprised, even scared him with my revelation. I could put myself in his shoes. I probably would have reacted the same way he did had the woman I currently slept with, my best friend, told me she wanted children in the next five years. Although how that would concern him so much was beyond me. I hadn't asked
him
to do it.
Could that be what was wrong with him, then? Did he think I wanted
him
to have
my
baby?
On that same night I returned from Paris, about two months ago, he had, according to Clementine, been at the bistro with a
very beautiful woman
. A beautiful woman I have never heard about.
But then again, why do you think you should've heard about her? She is most likely just a friend. Riley is allowed to have them. You don't have exclusive rights in that department, you know. He is not obligated to tell you every damn thing he does!
And even though I knew all that, I couldn't shake the feeling that that very beautiful woman might be the reason why he had disappeared for an entire month. Or at least one of the reasons.
The other reason might be that I had wanted him to.
The understanding that we needed time away from each other became the elephant in the room after I finally acknowledged to him my future aspirations. Telling him all that had felt to me like confessing to murder. That he surely wouldn't be at the bistro the next day was an unspoken consensus between the two of us.
We've known each other for too long, we were together all the time so, naturally, this kind of thing had happened before. The avoiding each other. The needing some time apart. Albeit never quite like this, nor for such a long time, either. I had seen him once, only once, the entire month. An entire month after I had spent thirty whole days in another continent. So, in total, I had seen my best friend twice in sixty days.
I missed him so much I was going insane.
I was used to seeing him every day. It was strange to peek from the kitchen into the bistro's main area and not find Riley's gleaming glasses behind his computer, his fast fingers incessantly hitting the letters on his keyboard. I was used to his presence. Missing him wasn't natural. It almost physically hurt.
As I placed my casserole into the oven, my eyes fell on the old, stubborn stain that maculated a section of the tile. Ever since Riley broke a bowl of tomato sauce that stain had been there. A constant reminder of him. A reminder of that night I had been too busy with my hands on him to mind cleaning it before it permanently marked my spotless floor.
No more of that. I had no need for casual sex with my best friend anymore. I had Rocco now. Riley might, or might not, have someone himself. That remained to be seen. The last time I had called him he had promised me he'd come for dinner. The avoiding was coming to an end. We would have to talk, there was no postponing that any longer.
All I could do for the time being was to make sure dinner was flawless. So I proceed to worry over which china set to use, focusing on plates and glasses other than who Riley would bring as his date or if he would bring someone at all.
***
"Rocco? Can you do me up, please?" I offered my back to Rocco who planted a soft, warm kiss on my nape before sliding the zipper of my dress up.
"You look stunning,
bella
."
I whirled around to face him. "Really?"
"Really."
Not believing him, I turned to check on my reflection again. I ran insecure hands down my body, trying to find something wrong with the fifth dress I was trying on.
"Laura, you're perfect." His voice had that mildly annoyed tone men use while shopping with their wives. He wasn't to blame. He'd been watching me try on dresses for the past hour or so.
"Am I, though?" To say I was anxious was an understatement.
Rocco laughed, coming to stand behind me, resting his chin on my shoulder and snaking his arms around my waist. "What's all this insecurity for? You're as beautiful as ever."
I put my hands atop his, trying to calm myself down. "You need to make a good impression on Sophia. She's the boss of me." I lied because, honestly, I couldn't care less what Soph would think of Rocco. She was half in love with the idea of him already. It was Riley's opinion of him that concerned me. I wanted -
needed
- them to like each other. I couldn't tell why, but I felt that was imperative.
"I'll do my best." Rocco said.
I rotated in his arms until I was facing him. He looked sinfully handsome. Fit to be a model for Armani suits. One more time, I mentally scolded myself for having the slightest doubt I should be with him. What else could I want? I was being capricious.
"I can't wait for dessert." I said giving him a teasing little smile.
"Desert? What are we having for dessert?" I loved his accent, a confusing sexy thing that couldn't decide between being a little French or too Italian.
I laced my fingers together on his nape and brought his head down so I could kiss him. "Oh, I know what I'm having."
Rocco's mouth welcomed the intrusion of mine. I could smell his expensive aftershave. A scent that spoke of fancy dinners, expensive wines, comfort.
Security.
I exhaled and drew back. I searched his dark green eyes, hoping they'd pull me out of my head and into his kiss. He looked confused, surely wondering what the fuck was my problem. I was in the arms of a gorgeus, lovely man. All I had to do was enjoy him. I kissed him with renewed purpose. Leisurely, he undid his earlier job, unzipping my dress so he could ran his hand on my naked back. I shivered and kissed him more hungrily, forgetting about any nonsensical doubts that insisted on seeping into my thoughts.
Rocco's lips had travelled to my neck when the doorbell rang. I ignored it, fisting my hands on his hair and bringing his mouth back to mine. He started walking me backwards, towards the edge of the bed, but the sound of the doorbell only became more insistent.
I pulled away from him, groaning in frustration. "Agh! Sophia! It has to be her!"
Smiling, Rocco ran his thumbs around my lips to brush away the smudges of my lipstick. "Go. We can finish this later." He zipped my dress shut again then moved to the bathroom to rearranged himself. "I'll follow you in a second,
