"When are you coming to visit me, Aria?" my mother asked, and I had to physically stop myself from letting out a displeased groan.

"I don't know, Ma," I said, holding the phone between my ear and shoulder while folding my clean laundry.

"You don't know? It's the same answer for the past few months. That's not fair. I just want to see my baby," her voice sounded sad, and my heart broke hearing it.

The truth was that I hated that small town with every fibre of my being.

With a population of less than 10 thousand, everyone knew everyone and their business. I made the decision to leave straight after high school and it was, with no doubt, the best choice I could have made for myself. My mother wasn't too happy about it. With good reason, of course.

Her daughter was moving off to a big city with zero knowledge on how to survive alone. It didn't take long for me to learn and eventually get the hang of it. Three years later, and I still had no intentions of going back. It was way too fucking boring.

"Let me see you, baby. Dad wants to see you, too. Switch to video," she instructed and I threw my head back exasperatedly.

"Mama," I whined, scowling but nevertheless doing as I was told. I pulled the phone away from my ear, clicking the video button.

I grinned widely, seeing my mother's face pop up on the screen.

Even with bordering on fifty years old, my mother was still the most beautiful woman. Her brown skin had a youthful glow, and her pretty hazel eyes still held so much joy and happiness despite what she had seen over the years. My dad walked up behind her, slinging his arm over her shoulder and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

I had forgotten how sickeningly cute they were. His olive skin tone gave no hint on his age, and it definitely had something to do with my mother lathering him up in sunscreen every day.

"Hey, kid," my dad greeted, smiling widely. "How you doing?"

"I'm great, dad. How are things over there? How's Aiden? I haven't spoken to him in ages," I asked, referring to my younger brother. We both loved our parents dearly, but we also hated the idea of living in a retirement town with little to no other kids our ages. He was too young to move out on his own, so he settled for the next best thing. A boarding school in the city.

"Baseball and school keeping him busy. You should really give your brother a call," my mother said softly.

"Are you doing okay at the moment? Financially, I mean," she asked, sitting down with my dad. The way they looked at me, with such utter love and adoration. I had forgotten how much I missed them.

"I quit my job," I told her honestly but left out the reason why. My parents looked at each other, and then my dad proceeded to pull his phone out of his pocket.

"Ma, you don't have to-"

"Hush, baby," she scowled.

I clamped my mouth shut, just as my phone tinged out loud.

Direct deposit from Aziza & Vincenzo Stone. Reference; don't get mad at us please.

The overwhelming amount of gratitude I felt in that moment almost resulted in me bursting into tears.

"We just want you to be okay, kid," my dad said, and I could tell that he meant every single word of it.

We continued to talk for a while, about everything that mattered. After an hour, I was eventually hanging up the phone after bidding my goodbyes. Immediately a text came through from Tammy.

'Hey. I'm sorry for leaving you last night. That was a fucked up thing to do.'

I typed back. 'I hope he was worth it.'

Her next message was a voice recording. 'Not at all. I'll explain everything some other time but don't worry, I'm okay. I know how you are.'

I frowned at that, wanting to give her a call but decided against it.

I fell back onto my bed, looking up at the ceiling as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. I hadn't forgotten about my date. Frankly, I hadn't stopped thinking about it at all. It was the first thing on my mind when I woke up. To say I was nervous would be the biggest understatement. I balled up my fists, willing myself to stop acting like a wreck who never had a date.

It was only a date. A regular date.

With Alessandro.

"Oh, God," I groaned, rolling over onto my stomach until my face was planted into the sheets. Completely, utterly and hopelessly nervous.

The day dragged on until it was time for me to get ready. I showered, shaved...everywhere and left my hair in its natural curly state. After much contemplation, I chose a simple white camisole dress. It was tight fitting, short and also showed a good amount of cleavage and leg.

I looked at myself in the tall mirror, turning to the side to observe my outfit and hoping that it was good enough.

Everything seemed so surreal.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. 7:05pm.

Sandro said he would be there at seven. Maybe he's walking up to my apartment in that precise moment? No, he wasn't. I sat there for twenty minutes, watching the clock while waiting for him to show up. I felt dejected, a bit humiliated but the feeling of pure frustration overpowered it all.

I couldn't shake the notion that I was being stood up and taken for a fool. I chewed on my bottom lip consistently, and had to reapply my balm a few times.

Surely he had a good reason for being late.

After another few minutes, just as I was about to kick my shoes off and call it a night, a knock came from my door.

"Aria. I'm sorry I'm so fucking late. Can you please open the door?" Sandro sounded breathless, as if he had ran up those stairs.

"Please," he said, followed by more knocking.

"It's either you open this door, or I kick it down and drag you out here," he warned. I had a feeling he was being completely honest, and not wanting to deal with a broken door, I got up and opened it.

He had his tattooed hand on the wooden frame, his head hanging low. The hair on top of his head was dishevelled, and he had a suit on- a really nice fucking suit that made me forget to be mad at him in the first place. Sandro looked up at me, a little frazzled and still breathing heavily but when his eyes landed on my dress, his face dropped into one of awe.

"Bellissima," he muttered, not bothering to hide the fact that he was soaking in every inch of me. From my hair, down to my bare legs.

I couldn't deny that I was checking him out too. Fuck. He was so painfully good looking.

Then he smiled and the adorable dimple popped out. Any nerves and uncertainty was instantly melted down and I suddenly didn't care about his reason for being late.

"I know you're probably mad at me, but-" he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. "I had a really fucked up day and-"

"Sandro, it's okay. You don't have to explain yourself," I interjected, shaking my head. He let out a long exhale, and I could see the relief he didn't attempt to hide. His face brightened up, visibly more relaxed than it was a few moments ago. My insides warmed and my cheeks flared up with an uncontainable blush that had me looking away from him.

But he had other plans.

Sandro grabbed both my hands, bringing my knuckles up to his lips. "Let me make it up to you?" he asked, laying the softest kiss on my skin. And I let it him because it felt good. He looked at me through hopeful eyes and as much as I hated how much I relished in it, I caved in instantly.

"You better," I grinned, and he returned it.

"Oh, I will," he replied, turning his smile into a playful smirk.

"What do you have in mind?" I asked boldly, furrowing my eyebrows in curiosity.

The thoughts running through my head were both alarming, and concerning. Very seldom I had vivid images of what I'd want a man to do to me and in that moment, my thoughts were filled with Sandro and Sandro only.

"I have a lot in mind, bellissima. But first, tell me that we're good," he said, taking my hands and interlacing his fingers through mine. His hands were so much bigger than mine, almost engulfing it whole and I couldn't help but think about how...

"We're good," I breathed, not used to that type of affection but fuck, did it feel good.

Alessandro enjoyed physical touch while still maintaining a boundary that could only be crossed if I let him. And I wanted him to.

"Good," he said, letting go of my hands to wrap one arm around my waist while his free hand palmed my cheek. His hard body was flush against mine, sending me through another overwhelming feeling of want.

"Can I?" he asked, lips grazing my ear. I had to stop a shiver from stammering through me. I didn't know what I was consenting to – but I found myself nodding. It could have been literally anything and there I was giving him the go-ahead.

He inched closer, so achingly slow that it seemed like hours when in reality it was only a few seconds.

Sandro's lips touched mine, ever so gently.

It unlocked something in me. Unleashed something. I wanted to kiss him harder and deeper and more passionately and I wanted it immediately. I barely had time to comprehend the feather-light kiss before Sandro was pulling away. My face fell. Did he not enjoy it? Was he disappointed?

Sandro had a look in his eyes. One that I couldn't quite understand. Just as I was about to take a step back, he grabbed me again and I realised that it wasn't a look of disappointment or regret. It was one of awe and admiration.

And this time, he pulled me closer and kissed me harder than he did before.

• • •