Blurry by Michelle Hercules
Alistair
Ifreeze when I hear the door open, finding Chiara standing there with a bottle of red wine in her hand. The deer-in-headlights look on her face tells me she didn’t come looking for me. On instinct, I place my hands in front of my crotch to cover the sudden arousal her presence has caused.
Jesus fucking Christ. I’m not a perv. Why is my body acting like I’m one?
Her gaze drops below my waist, and I fight not to squirm where I stand.
“Madonna Santa! I’m so sorry. I thought the room was empty,” she says but makes no motion to leave.
“I was about to change into the clothes your cousin brought me.”
“Right.”
She closes the door behind her and ventures farther into the room, making me even more tense. What is she playing at here? I’m not naïve when it comes to women and their games. I’ve seen plenty of them in action before. However, instead of preparing to rebuff her if she tries to come on to me, I’m actually looking forward to it.
Maybe Nadine and her betrayal did irreparable damage to my brain and turned me into a perv after all.
“Starting the party early?” I eye the Chianti in her hand.
Chiara cradles the dark bottle with both hands and stares at it, almost absentmindedly. “Yes. We love our wine.”
She sits on the edge of the bed, curling her smooth legs under her. I swallow hard as my cock twitches inside my boxer shorts. Fuck. I’m so screwed.
She seems oblivious to what she’s doing to me when she raises her lovely blue eyes to mine. They’re a little red. Has she been crying?
“I’m sorry my mother was rude to you. She’s stressed with the wedding.”
I know bullshit when I hear it. I’ve never seen a woman look at her daughter with so much venom in her gaze.
“Don’t worry about it.”
Narrowing my eyes, I notice redness around Chiara’s chin. Fuck. Are those nail marks?
She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, and the movement draws my attention to her forearm. There’s an angry mark there too, as if someone grabbed her by force. Sudden anger unfurls in the pit of my stomach, making me see red.
“Did she do that to you?” I grit out.
Chiara’s face turns ashen before she glances down, curling her fingers tighter around the bottle of wine. “This is nothing.”
I clench my jaw hard as I fight the urge to seek out her mother and give her a piece of my mind. I don’t know where this overwhelming need to protect Chiara is coming from. I just met her, but something about the petite blonde has managed to rekindle a fire in my heart that I thought had gone out forever.
Shit. I must be losing my mind.
Chiara notices I’m still staring and clears her throat. “I should go. You probably want some privacy.”
“You can stay. I don’t mind.” My voice is thick, and I don’t know if it’s because of anger or desire. Probably a mix of both.
Chiara looks down at the bottle in her hand and frowns. “Cazzo! I forgot to bring the bottle opener. What a rookie mistake.”
While she’s distracted, I reach for the pair of slacks Max lent me and put them on quickly. They’re an inch too short, but they fit nicely around my waist. Standing there wearing almost nothing was unnerving me.
“I’m sure there’s one here though,” Chiara says to herself before jumping from the bed to search the room. She opens drawers and cabinets, completely ignoring me.
While she’s on her mission, I finish getting dressed. I’m in the process of fastening the last button of my shirt when she pivots on the spot, brandishing a small object in her hand: a corkscrew.
“Aha!” Victory is etched on her face, and I catch a glimpse of a much happier woman. It mollifies the anger from before.
She proceeds to open the bottle, and I watch her as if I’m in a daze. I’ve met my fair share of beautiful women before—God, I was married to one for four years—but none of them captured me in this foreign way. I can’t make sense of it.
What kind of bullshit am I thinking now?If I’d been drinking, I would attribute my idiotic thoughts to alcohol. But I’m stone-cold sober.
Chiara finally opens the bottle with a pop, throwing the opener with the cork still stuck to the screw onto the bed before bringing the rim to her lips and taking large gulps from it. Before she can drown in red wine, I reach her in a couple of long strides and pull the bottle away from her.
“Whoa, easy there.”
She stares at me wide-eyed before she bursts into giggles.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.” She giggles again before she wipes her lips with the back of her hand. It’s such an unappealing move, but she somehow makes it look sexy. My rock-hard cock agrees.
A knock on the door saves me from doing something very stupid, like pushing Chiara against the wall and kissing the hell out of her. No matter how tempting the idea is, I can’t let myself go there. It’s clear that she’s going through some rough shit, and I refuse to be the asshole who takes advantage of that.
“Come in,” I say.
The door opens a fraction, and Max’s head pops through the crack.
“Rea—Chiara, what are you doing here?”
“I didn’t come looking for him, if that’s what you were thinking.” She turns to glare at her cousin.
Max doesn’t seem happy with her answer by the way his eyebrows furrow together. “Sure you didn’t. Hey, I’m all for sticking it to your mom, but don’t you think bringing a complete stranger to her favorite niece’s wedding party was a bit much?” He glances in my direction and adds, “No offense, dude.”
“None taken. For the record, I usually don’t accept random invitations from strangers. I was on my way to the Winery Della Vecchia, and Chiara mentioned the owners would be here.”
“Ah, so you don’t want to sleep with my cousin?”
Max raises an eyebrow at me, putting me in a very tough spot. I wasn’t expecting him to be so fucking blunt. It’s almost like I’m dealing with my lawyer, Enzo. It must be an Italian thing. Most of the people I know would wait until Chiara left the room to ask me that question.
Like an idiot, I blurt out the first thing that comes to my mind. “Good Lord, no.”
Chiara winces as if I slapped her, making me regret my careless outburst. It sounded like I’m repulsed by her, which couldn’t be further from the truth.
“Ouch. That was a solid burn, man,” Max says.
“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not that I don’t find you attractive, Chiara. I—”
She raises her hand, speaking over me. “You don’t need to apologize. Enjoy the party.”
Pivoting on the spot, she shoves Max out of the way so she can escape the room.
“You really did put your foot in your mouth, didn’t you?” He smirks.
I run a hand through my hair, frustrated with my inability to salvage the situation before Chiara left.
“How mad is she at me right now?”
Max shrugs. “I don’t think mad is the right word. Her ego is probably bruised purple now. Our cousin Paola is marrying the guy Chiara has been in love with for years and—ah, cazzo. I shouldn’t have told you that. Chiara will kill me if she finds out.”
A spike of jealousy spears my chest, which is completely absurd. I rub my face, feeling worse than I did before.
“It wasn’t my intention to make her feel bad. I’m not blind. Chiara is gorgeous, but I didn’t accept her invitation thinking I would get some in the end.”
Max scoffs. “Right. I’ll pretend I believe you. Chiara is an adult, and I’m her cousin, not her keeper. She could use a distraction today, and if that’s you, I don’t care.”
