“I noticed she’s not in your bed,” Alessio said.
“You’re here,” Corrado replied. “I left the option open, if she wanted, and I think her conscience sent her across the hall.”
Right.
“Or her morals, yeah?”
Corrado sighed. “Are they not the same thing?”
“Not really. One means she might feel guilty, and the other says she thinks it’s wrong to have sex with someone in a relationship with someone else, Corrado. Guilt is a byproduct of an action.”
“I don’t think the latter is the problem, all things considered.”
“Or it becomes a problem when the other person is using the bedroom down the hall.”
“I didn’t come find you to talk about where Ginevra is sleeping,” Corrado said sharply.
Ah.
Who’s defensive now?
“Well,” Alessio said, shifting and dropping to the floor eight feet below soundlessly, “I suppose that means you’re sleeping alone then, doesn’t it?”
Corrado gave him a look.
Alessio just shrugged.
That was his way of telling his lover he wouldn’t be joining him in bed, either. And if there was anything Corrado hated the most, it was sleeping alone. Maybe it was because he’d become used to Alessio sharing a bed with him over the years, or because he woke up ready to fuck as soon as he cracked his eyes open.
It could have been a lot of things.
“You should suffer a little,” Alessio murmured as he came to stand in front of Corrado in the doorway, “for what you did. Take your penance, Corrado.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Do you have something new to tell me?”
“I have a question.”
Alessio tipped his head to the side, tucking that book under his arm as he shoved his other hand into his pocket. “Give it to me, then.”
“Why did you go to my family when you needed time alone? I think I know ... I want to hear you say it.”
Alessio’s shoulders tensed at the question, his heart thundering with sharp beats that ached all the way through his bloodstream. If Corrado owed him certain things, then he might as well admit there was shit he should give back to the man, too.
“They remind me of you.”
Corrado’s gaze drifted over Alessio with slow intent. He wanted something. To be close—closer—to touch, or to fuck. To have the thing he wanted, or one, which was Alessio. It was his gaze that always told the truth when his mouth didn’t.
“Oh?” Corrado asked, his stare coming back up to meet Alessio’s.
“And even when I hate you, Corrado,” Alessio said, his words a whisper before he leaned in to press a quick kiss to Corrado’s mouth, pulling away just as fast to add, “I still love you.”
He left Corrado alone in the gym.
It was for the best even if it was the last thing he wanted. They could fuck this out like they did other fights they had in the past. They could find a familiar comfort in the physical side of this together. The thing was, it would only work for so long. More shit swept under a very dirty rug.
It wouldn’t fix it.
Sometimes, the right choice was the hard one.
Including walking away.
5.
Ginevra
Tucked into the checkered pattern bucket chair, with her feet resting on the ottoman, Ginevra was more interested in the two men across from her rather than the movie. Alessio, comfortable in a chair, set his arms along the recliner, and Corrado, on the couch next to him, kept glancing over at the other man.
Something was bothering Corrado ... She could tell in the way he kept shaking his head subtly, and his gaze kept narrowing back on Alessio every twenty or so seconds.
Ginevra couldn’t figure out what.
It could be anything, really. A week after Alessio decided he was staying in the penthouse, and she wasn’t sure what any of them were doing together, or what was happening. They all gave each other a wide berth of space, safe conversation was a must, and nobody stepped on anyone’s toes.
She was back to sleeping alone.
So were they.
They all moved around each other like they were familiar strangers, as if that was possible. Nods in the mornings, and hellos at the table. Little else, though. She was sure Alessio and Corrado hadn’t worked out their issues, and she hadn’t settled herself with everything happening here, but for now ... this was what they did.
Nothing.
It was awkward.
“Jesus Christ, will you give me those?” Corrado snapped.
Alessio turned his attention from the television, a smirk playing at that edges of his lips as he did so. “Does it bother you that badly?”
“Yes, it’s annoying. You know I hate it when you let them get like that.”
What were they going on about?
Ginevra tucked herself tighter under the blanket she was using while watching the movie. This way, she could hide her grin because for a brief second, Alessio and Corrado looked like lovers arguing with one another, and not ... whatever in the fuck they had been for the last week.
She liked this sight of them more.
And that only left her confused.
“Fine,” Alessio muttered.
In a blink, he flipped his wrist over, placing it across the arm of the couch where Corrado was sitting at the end. Ginevra watched, fascinated and amused, as Corrado seemed too pleased while he untangled the thin, black braided bracelets on Alessio’s wrist. Maybe fifteen. All twisted into a mess of a knot because of the delicate design.
Corrado worked in silence, his gaze lifting to check what was happening on the movie, before he went back to untangling again. Alessio, as though this was normal and something Corrado did, paid the other man no mind.
Did they do this often?
Sometimes, she thought they forgot Ginevra was in the penthouse with them. They often had silent conversations, even when standing across the room from one another. Shared looks, and quiet noises she didn’t understand, but they seemed to comprehend from the other just fine.
It was yet another testament to her about just how long these two men had been together. That their lives, even if on the outside they seemed entirely different, were very intertwined. They fit better together, but for now, they were still too far apart.
And she was right in the middle.
It took all of five minutes.
Alessio pulled his arm back when Corrado released his wrist, all the braided cords sitting nicely against each other instead of the mess they had been. “Better?”
Corrado shrugged. “Getting there.”
“Hmm.”
Ginevra raised a brow, wondering what in the hell she had just watched. “How did you two meet?”
Corrado stilled on the couch, but didn’t take his gaze away from the screen. Alessio tipped his head sideways as he peered over at Ginevra.
“Work.”
“Easy,” Corrado muttered.
“She asked.”
“That doesn’t mean she needs to know.”
“Except that’s exactly what it means.”
Corrado let out a sigh and pushed up from the couch. He didn’t even bother to say goodbye, or explain what he was doing before he left the sitting room, and disappeared into the hallway. Ginevra was still staring at the spot where he’d left when Alessio grunted under his breath, gaining her attention instead.