“About me,” I scoff.
He pursed his lips and released a short breath, his lips inches from me. I inhaled a deep breath in an effort to calm myself down from the effect his closeness has on me.
“The asshole in his blood,” he says.
“Are you sure you don’t need take care of that?”
“It’s taken care of. I have you all day,”
He placed a soft but chaste kiss against my lips. His aggravation from his disagreement still hanging in the air.
“He’s not my biggest fan,” I say.
“He is no one’s fan, baby girl.”
“You should tell him to get laid. it’s a miracle drug.”
“I am afraid even the most magical clit would not reach Antonio,” his voice trailing off with amused frustration.
And you are with a fat girl.
“He’s not a fan of me being a bigger girl and you spending so much time with me,” I say quietly.
“Fuck Antonio and his big fucking mouth. He is not the boss of me, and I can spend time with whoever I want. And you are not big, and I don’t ever want to hear those words again. You are more than your weight. You are more than your insecurities. You are more than a few stretch marks,” he says.
“I know that I am not the thinnest or most attractive. The women you must be used to are nothing like me. I have never been thin, and I never will be. These hips are with me until the day I die.”
His hand reaches behind my neck. His fingers eliciting a response of want deep inside of me between my thighs. His touch electrifying the tiny hairs on my arms. His other hand takes off his sunglasses and holds them between his thumb and index finger at his side. His intense gaze is wide and intent. Feeling myself losing my battle of insecurity I don’t often have.
“Listen to me, perfection comes in every size and shape. Every woman doesn’t look the same. I have known so many women, dated a lot of women and they don’t come to a tenth of amazing as you are. You and I share a connection. I can’t explain it.”
Enzo either made things better, or he just complicated the shit out of them.
The series of terraces and tunnels formed by trees and foliage were astounding to see in person. The true definition of a secret garden. The bright green leaves offered shade from the now blaring sun of a Florence summer. As we walked down the pebble lined pathway underneath a tunnel of leaves, I became blissfully and painfully aware of how close we were to one another. He reached down, his fingers grasping mine. I felt the cold steel of his rings on top of my fingers as my hand was held firmly in his.
“The gardens were commissioned by the Medici family when they bought the Palazzo Pitti,” I start, spouting off history facts nervously.
“You can almost picture the Medici family greeting guests and walking on foot through the same pathways.”
With Lorenzo’s free hand, he takes his sunglasses off and places the temple caps in between his teeth. His dimpled smile beaming across his face with a wild and teasing smirk. He bites harder on the black plastic from his glasses as an amused chuckle escapes from his lips. I regard him carefully and scoff at his amusement.
“What?” I ask.
“You know so much of history,” he states.
“It is my career. Well, I hope to be my career.”
He hooks the temple caps of his sunglasses into his shirt, hanging out the neckline of the white fabric.
“You want to be a teacher?” Lorenzo asks.
“No, no, I always wanted to be a museum curator like my mother,” I say, a tinge of sadness dripping from my soft tone.
“And your grandmother, was she interested in history?” he asks.
“Oh yes, she loved history. But the arts is where her heart lay. She was the one who got me interested in Romeo and Juliet, and Dante,” I say.
“Ah, Dante.”
“I could easily spend hours here. Just get lost amongst all this.”
“As could I,” he agrees.
I look out of the corner of my eye and get lost in his gaze as he stares straight ahead of us as we walk. His six-foot-three frame towering over mine.
What is it with me and men over six feet? Do his eyes seriously fucking sparkle?
As if he could feel my gaze on him, he dips his chin down to me. His slight smirk turns into a teasing smile when he realizes I was staring at him.
“Those eyes,” Enzo says.
“They are just green,” I reply.
“Just green, the deepest green I have seen. Your eyes are mesmerizing.”
“Says the man with the turquoise ocean eyes.”
He meets his lips with mine, giving me a gentle kiss. His tongue met mine and they circled together. I pulled away before it became to impassioned between us.
In the middle of a garden.
In Florence.
In the middle of a garden, in Florence.
I knew I couldn’t tell him about Finn and my connection with him. But Finn is very much a part of my life. I needed to tell him the truth about why I came to Italy.
“I wasn’t entirely truthful with you,” I start before I lost my nerve.
“No?”
“Finding my family of course was the main reason to come to Italy, but that isn’t entirely why I have been travelling the world.”
“What?” he asks.
“My ex,” I whisper.