- RORY -
My head feels light and airy, and now I understand the term ’walking on air.’ Because I definitely don’t feel my feet touching the ground as I pad back into the bedroom where Raya’s sleeping.
Luciano asked to marry him. That really happened. And he was serious.
The knocking on the door was just Dex, coming to allegedly kiss Raya goodnight. But then he also persuaded Luciano to co back to the cabina with him. I think the only reason Luci agreed is because it might just be the last night I’m away from him. For real.
After changing into the luxury t-shirt Luci brought and brushing my teeth, I slip into bed next to Raya and lay back, looking at the ceiling. Luciano’s facial expressions, his voice, his words... they autoplay on a loop in my thoughts. From the mont I opened the glass door to the mont he told that I will always be safe with him. What was it that made him decide to propose?
"I said I love you," I whisper aloud.
I ant it. It’s the first ti I’ve ever told anyone I love them who isn’t family. It’s the first ti I’ve felt it. But what if Luciano’s proposal was the result of him just getting swept up in the mont? What if he thinks about it later and regrets it?
Or what if his dad objects to or sothing? I’m not exactly familiar with the mafia. I can’t even comprehend what that might an: to be a mafiosi’s wife.
"Am I really marrying into the mafia?" I mutter to myself, completely bewildered by that prospect.
My phone buzzes, and seeing a text ssage from him wipes literally every interfering thought from my mind.
’Did that really just happen?’ It says. ’Did you agree to be my wife?’
The wings flutter to life in my chest. ’I really did.’ I type back. ’Is that okay?’
’You use the word okay a lot, dolcezza. It’s so much better than okay. It’s incredible. It doesn’t feel real.’
’I know. It doesn’t.’ I smirk.
’You’re not going to change your mind, are you?’
’No. Are you?’ I send back, biting my lip, the idea digging into my heart.
’Not a chance, tesoro.’
I sigh happily, letting the phone drop on my chest. How is this real? One week in Costa Rica, and everything is different.
My phone buzzes again, and I lift it, squinting at the bright light of the screen.
’Should we tell everyone? Or wait?’
’Wait.’ I type back. ’I don’t want to take away from their day tomorrow.’
’Good thinking. And it will give us ti to look for a ring. ;)’
A ring. That’s another thought that stuns for a mont. I can’t imagine being one of those won with a big gaudy rock on my finger like it proves my worth or sothing.
’Please no big ring, Luci.’ I type quickly.
Dots pop up to show he’s typing, and finally a ssage cos through: ’How about sothing rare instead? Rare like you.’
Sothing rare. I don’t even know what that would be.
’I honestly don’t want to think about rings. All I want to think about is us.’
I type it and then stare at the words before hitting the send button. It sounds cheesy. Again. I’m not good at this.
But it’s true. The idea of a ring and a dress and a huge ceremony with people I don’t know or don’t like is so not . The idea makes a ball of nerves spiral to life in my stomach when I realize that’s the obstacle I’m facing.
’So what you’re saying is that you just want to think about us in bed.’ Luci sends back, and I snort with laughter.
’We are in bed.’
’I’m actually on a couch. But there’s room if you want to co over here.’
’Room on the couch?’
’Plenty. You’ll fit right on top of .’
I groan and roll my eyes. ’Smooth lol. I’m not going to leave Raya. You can wait one night.’
I’m staring at the phone waiting for another text to co through when my phone rings with a call from him instead. I gasp at the sudden noise and answer it quickly before Raya can wake up.
"Hello?" I whisper, slipping out of bed and going into the bathroom.
"Hello. It’s just ." Luciano’s voice. It calms my heart.
I click the bathroom door shut and slide down its length until I’m sitting on the floor.
"Hi," I say with a sigh, smiling and crossing my legs.
"This is better. I like hearing your voice," he says.
I can imagine him laying on the couch, staring out the window. And I’m looking at the bathroom tiles, but it’s his face I see.
" too."
"I could just imagine you questioning and overthinking, and it’s a long night if you’re doing that," he says, and I can’t help but laugh at how well he already seems to know . "Am I right?"
"Maybe," I admit. "It was unfair of Dex to take you away so fast. It made it seem that much more unreal."
"It’s real. Want to sneak out and co back?"
The thought of Luciano sneaking out like a kid avoiding his parents makes laugh.
"No, that’s okay. We shouldn’t be troublemakers tonight."
He groans on the other end. "Fine."
"So you don’t want to sleep in the sa bed with Dex or what?"
"I’d rather not wake up with his hand on my ass."
"Has that happened in the past?" I laugh. "It sounds like you’re talking from experience."
"It hasn’t, but that doesn’t an I want to risk it."
That makes laugh more.
"God I love the sound of your laugh, Rory."
The fact that he uses my na instead of one of the Italian nicknas makes this seem more real—this conversation. This night.
"I love the sound of your voice, Luciano."
"You do?" He sounds pleased and surprised at the sa ti. It’s strange to imagine him being anything other than confident.
"Yeah. It’s... calming." I smile, feeling the truth of it.
"I’m glad."
Then there’s silence—silence that’s full of a comfort and familiarity that has sohow slipped in so effortlessly between us. I don’t know where it ca from or how. Doesn’t it take years of knowing soone to be this comfortable with them? To sit in silence and be at peace?
"So what are you wearing?" He asks, shattering the innocent direction of my thoughts and making laugh so more.
"Uh," I look down. "Your shirt."
"That’s a good girl."
"I’m not doing it just because you told to," I scoff.
"Oh, trust . I know," he chuckles. "And that’s why I love it."
The instinct to react combatively is just ingrained, I guess, because I don’t mind at all when Luciano calls a good girl. In fact, there is a spark of pride that shoots through my body like it’s programd to respond to him, wanting to please, wanting to do more things for that praise. It would be a sha if he actually stopped.
"What were you thinking about when I called?" He asks next. "What worries you?"
"Oh that," I say, staring into my lap and Luci’s shirt that’s covering . "Just that your family might not approve. That I don’t know anything about your business. That you might change your mind."
"Just all that?" He says with a chuckle. "Well my father already offered his blessing, not that his opinion would stop . There is nothing at all you need to know about the business as long as you trust . And when you said you wanted to marry , it was easily one of the greatest monts of my life, Lorelei Gray. That won’t change."
"Really?" The whispered question is a reflex, because the rest of is stunned by everything he has said.
"Really."
There are several more monts of magical silence, and I can almost feel our thoughts dancing. His are with and mine are with him, and despite the physical distance between us, I don’t feel alone. Not anymore.
"Get so sleep, dolcezza." His deep, rich voice breaks the silence. "No more worries, okay? If they co back, I’m here. Call ."
"Okay," I agree softly, heart aching with all the love flowing through that I don’t know what to do with. "Goodnight, Luci."
"Goodnight, Rory."
I sit with the phone still by my ear, waiting for him to hang up and disconnect this line between us. But he doesn’t.
"Why aren’t you hanging up?" I ask.
"Why aren’t you?" He chuckles softly.
"I was waiting for you to."
"I’m not hanging up first," he replies. "So you’re going to have to do it."
"Seriously?" I laugh. "Fine. I’m hanging up now."
"Okay."
"Okay," I repeat. But then I sit with his silence accompanying and smile.
Eventually I hear a low, satisfied rumble from his end. I love his noises.
"I love you, Luciano," I say softly, acknowledging this feeling. I want him to know.
"And I love you so fucking much, Lorelei."
We stay quiet for so ti after that, soaking more of this up–the peace of our shared breaths. It’s so strange and so perfect at the very sa ti.
"Get so sleep, tesoro," he says eventually, and I realize I just yawned. His yawn follows. "Hang up. I’m still here just on the other end."
"Okay," I whisper. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
Finally, I end the call. Then I stare at the phone and imagine him on the other end. On the couch, rolling over into a more comfortable position. Dark eyes staring out into the night.
This is real. And if it takes a big ring, a poofy dress, a giant wedding ceremony, it’s entirely worth it. I’ve never known love like his–love that would kill for and also refuse to hang up the phone first just so we could share the sa silence.
"You’re the rare flower, Luciano."
Raya is still snoring, and I can’t help but giggle to myself as I slip back into bed next to her. With the phone tucked next to my heart, I sigh happily and wiggle my toes under the sheet and imagine him curled next to . Luciano Ricca. My fiance.
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