32

32
ARIA

When we arrived back at the house, I was happy to find my dad's car parked in the driveway, right next to Sandro's.
We walked up the porch's stairs, and the door swung open instantaneously. I grinned, seeing the familiar and friendly face of my father. He was dressed in his blue scrubs, and he already had his arms open for a hug.
"Hi, dad," I greeted, smiling widely.
"Hey, kid," he said, holding me in an embrace as I let my cheek rest on his chest. "Don't stay away that long again."
My heart was full, and it almost burst when he pulled away to shake Sandro's hand. I could see the impact it had on Sandro when he realised that my dad wasn't an asshole and a charming smile spread across his lips as he introduced himself.
"Alessandro. It's nice to meet the man my wife can't stop talking about," my father said, giving me a side-eye.
Sandro chuckled, giving my dad a firm handshake. "It's nice to meet you too, sir."
"Come inside," he told us, stepping away from the entry to let us in. "Go give your mother that cream that she's been asking about." He nodded his head in the direction of the kitchen, and I narrowed my eyes at him.
It was his way of getting me out of the way so he could have a conversation with Sandro but nevertheless, I let it slide.
I gave Sandro one last look, and he sent a reassuring smile my way. Sandro was the most respectful person I had ever met — which was ironic — but I had no doubt that the chat with my dad would be smooth sailing. He probably just wanted to have the usual dad talk.
Carrying the groceries, I passed Aiden on the way to the kitchen. He gave me an once-over, shrugged and walked away from me. I huffed, hoisting the bags to a more comfortable position.
"Thank you for the help, dumbass," I whispered the last part under my breath.
"You're welcome, dumbass," he retorted nonchalantly, but he was louder than me.
"Aiden!" my mother screamed, but her voice sounded far away. I stopped the sly smirk from showing on my face.
"Mama," Aiden gasped, his eyes wide as his steps halted. "She started it!"
"I don't care who started what. Help your sister," she yelled back, and Aiden gave me the deadliest glare and grabbed the bags from my arms with as much force as possible. It would've went tumbling to the floor if it wasn't for his quick reflexes.
"Yeah, break it," I said, rolling my eyes. If looks could kill...
"I was wrong. I did not miss you one bit," Aiden whispered, sneering at me and I reached up to ruffle his hair while his hands were occupied. He flinched away from me, staring at me in shock. I laughed, gesturing for him to take the bags to our mother.
"There's a donut for you in the pink box," I said, and the harsh expression on his face melted away. He lit up, but his smile dropped when he glared at me again.
I shook my head, heading up the stairs for a shower before dinner.
The weather outside had changed drastically. From sunny and warm, to rainy and cloudy. The raindrops pelted against the window above my bed, and condensation formed on the glass. My room had always been the coldest part of the house, but cold days were rare and hot days were a constant.
It was a nice change, even though I was expecting to take a dip into the pool later. I adjusted the temperature of the shower and while I waited for the water to warm up, I let my dress fall to the floor.
•
We sat at the dinner table, a feast laid out in front of us. My mother went all out with the meals. There was everything from shrimp pasta, to butter chicken. It looked delicious, and smelled good too.
Our first meal as a family in a very long time, and I had a man next to me who looked just as excited as I was. It was still raining outside, and it seemed to be getting heavier by the second. A flash of lightning brightened the room for a split second and I winced.
"Aria, it looks like you brought that nasty city weather home with you," my mother said, and I knew her words had a deeper meaning.
It wasn't a secret that she wanted me home and in the safety of a town with little to no criminal activity.
The idea of not living in the city almost had me shuddering.
The idea of not being around Sandro made me want to throw up. Honestly, I preferred the city.
"I love the rain," I said, dishing a plate for me.
"Alessandro, do you prefer cold weather or warm weather?" she asked, turning her attention to Sandro.
He sat next to me, the side of his thigh rubbing against mine. He showered too and I could smell the bodywash on him. He wore a hoodie, covering all his tattoos except the ones on his neck and hands.
"I grew up in a sunny city with a mild winter, and I'll always love it but I do prefer the cold," he replied, passing the pasta dish over to me and I took it from him.
"A sunny city?" my father asked. "Where?"
"Sicily," Sandro answered, taking a sip of his wine.
"What made you move so far from home?" mama asked, and it was evident that she was just genuinely interested in Sandro and his upbringing.
He glanced at me, "The city has bigger and better opportunities than where I come from."
"I see. What is it that you do exactly?" she asked, taking a bite of her food.
"Mama, why are we having an interview at the table?" Aiden asked, looking bored out of his mind.
"I want to know about my daughters boyfriend," she said sternly.
Boyfriend.
I felt Sandro's leg nudge at mine, and I knew he noticed what my mother had referred to him as. I realised that we didn't exactly put a title on our relationship.
Sandro being left handed and sitting on my left side allowed his freehand to rest on my thigh. He stroked my clothed skin with his thumb, and didn't seem too fazed although I had butterflies fluttering in my belly at the mere contact.
Luckily, the table had a cloth that hid whatever we were doing underneath.
"I own a line of clubs, restaurants and hotels," Sandro said, and my mother's jaw dropped. I knew Sandro practically owned the entire city, but him putting it that way made me realise how extreme it truly was.
"That's hard work. Well done," my father said, sounding like a proud dad.
"Yeah, I can't imagine the responsibility and perseverance that you have. Congratulations on your success, Alessandro," mama said, a proud smile on her face.
Sandro's grin was wholesome, and he looked unbelievably happy as my parents praised him. It wasn't hard to notice that those words meant a lot to him.
"Thank you. I appreciate that," he said, giving my thigh another squeeze.
"Your tattoos are cool. My teacher hid his sleeve and when he got caught, he was fired. Can you believe that?" Aiden said, shaking his head in disappointment.
"That's wrong," my father said as he frowned.
"Stupid schools," my mother whispered. "So unfair. I have ink on my skin and that means I want to kill you. Dumbasses," she said, and Aiden gasped.
"But when I say it, it's wrong," he argued.
"Yes, exactly," she retorted, and it quickly turned into a mini argument with my dad included.
I took the opportunity to turn to Sandro, and he lowered his head to hear what I have to say. "You're doing good, Sandro," I whispered.
"I love your family," he said, and then looked at Aiden who was bidding his argument that he should be allowed to call me a dumbass.
We both chuckled, and I felt his hand stoke my thigh.
"Stop yapping and eat your food, Aiden," she said, and Aiden scowled before digging into his food.
-
I laid in bed, unable to sleep. Sandro was in the guest bedroom, and I missed him because he was way too fucking far. Everyone had gone to bed and all the lights were off but my room lit up every now and then with the odd lightning strike.
It was still raining, and there was thunder in the distance. Even though I was exhausted, I was also wide awake. Sandro had spoiled me and now I couldn't sleep unless he was in the bed with me. It felt unnatural to be alone.
I sighed, and tapped my phone to check the time. 1:28am.
I should.
I slipped the covers off me, and used my best efforts to silently walk down the hall to where Sandro slept. I pushed the door open, grimacing when it creaked.
Sandro was laying on his back, his chest bare and his legs covered. It was dark but I could see the slight movement of his head looking into my direction.
"Oh, thank God," Sandro whispered, immediately scooting to the side to give me space on the bed "Come here, bellissima."
I gently closed the door behind me and walked over to him. When he held me in his arms, I breathed out a sigh of relief. It scared me how much I relied on him, but I didn't care because it seemed like he needed me too. I cuddled into his warm body, sharing a pillow with him.
"I was preparing myself to stay awake for the night," he said, his voice low and quiet.
"I missed you," I confessed, tracing my fingertips over his chest.
"I missed you so much more. You're spoiling me and now I can't sleep without you," he said, giving me a kiss on the forehead as he stroked the hair away from my face.
"Funny you should say that. I was thinking the same thing," I said, and I felt his smile on my skin.
"That's perfect. I was convinced that you were going to sleep peacefully without me."
"Never," I murmured, finally content.
"Bellissima," Sandro whispered, and I felt his palm on my cheek.
"Yeah?" I answered.
"Your mother said something earlier. And I realised that I haven't asked you, yet." Sandro sounded a bit nervous, and my eyes opened. My breath almost caught in my throat, and I swallowed away the lump that had suddenly formed.
Was he about to...
"Ask me what?"
He turned us over, setting me on my back as he hovered over me. He supported himself on his elbow, and his hand never left my cheek. "Amore mio, tell me that you're my girlfriend."
I snickered. "Sandro. You said you were going to ask me."
"I'm asking you to tell me that you're my girlfriend," he said and my smile widened.
"It's supposed to be a yes or no question,"
"No is not an option."
I huffed, feigning annoyance even though I hadnt been that happy in a while. "Fine, I'm your girlfriend," I said, but my grin couldn't be stopped. I was ashamed to admit how long I had waited to say those words.
It was a weight off my shoulders, knowing that Sandro was mine. And I was his.
"My girlfriend," he repeated, leaning down to give me a kiss on the lips. It was gentle and warm and I could feel the emotions being poured into it.
"Your turn," I said, and he pulled away.
"I am your boyfriend. Which means, I'm all yours and I have a valid reason to shoot anyone who flirts with you, hurts you or touches you. Or if you simply don't like them or—"
"Sandro. That is not a valid reason." I laughed, and I heard him laugh too. It sounded beautiful.
"I stand by what I said."
And I didn't doubt that for a second.