Sempre: Redemption (Forever Series #2)(128)

“I mean Molly,” she clarified. ”Did it make you feel better?”

He sighed as he considered the question. “It did for a while, but it wasn’t real. No matter how high I got, I never found what I was looking for. And it ended up taking from me more than it gave.”

He pulled her into a hug and she gazed up at him, her eyes sparkling. The air around them grew thick with emotion as she wrapped her arms around his waist. His heart raced, blood rushing furiously through his veins as his body tingled from her embrace. He moved forward a bit, hesitantly, gauging her reaction, and her eyes seemed to instinctively dart to his mouth. He took that as a sign and hoped like hell it wasn’t a mistake when he leaned down, aiming for her mouth.

At the last second, panic overtook Haven’s face. She pulled back, turning her head so his lips brushed against her flushed cheek. He silently cursed himself as he let go of her. Too soon.

“I, uh . . .” She picked at her fingernails, moving away from him. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He glanced at his watch with a sigh. It was already a little after seven in the evening. “How about that coffee?”

She nodded, reaching into her pocket and pulling out her keys. She tossed them at Carmine with no warning, and he barely got a grasp on them before they hit the floor. He eyed them peculiarly, spotting the familiar key. “No f**king way.”

“It’s parked out front,” she said. “Thought maybe you’d like to drive.”

* * *

Carmine cruised through the streets of east Chicago, lounged back in the driver’s seat of the black Mazda. The dark interior smelled just as fresh as it had the last time he had driven it, the plush leather seat somehow still formed to his shape. North Carolina radio stations were programmed for the buttons of the stereo, the dial turned to his favorite—97.1 FM. A black tree-shaped air freshener hung from the rearview mirror, and he suspected it was the same one he had put there back in Durante.

“Did you even drive this thing?” he asked, looking at the mileage . . . a few hundred miles more than he remembered it being.

“Sure,” she said. “I drove it here last night.”

Carmine shook his head, turning his focus back to the street. He pulled into the parking lot of the first coffee shop they saw, politely opening Haven’s door for her. She smiled sweetly and took his hand as they headed inside. Customers packed the small building, standing in groups and huddling around the tables.

“What do you like?” Haven asked as they got in line.

Carmine laughed dryly. “I can’t say I like anything. I don’t drink coffee.”

“Then why’d you ask me out for it?”

“I figured I had a better chance of you saying yes to something as simple as a drink than a whole meal,” he said, gazing at the menu board. “Christ, who pays five dollars for a drink that doesn’t have alcohol in it? For that price it better come with a complimentary bl*w j*b or something.”

“Carmine,” she gasped, his rant drawing the attention of people around them. He muttered an apology to her and noticed a man a few feet away glaring at them. He narrowed his eyes at him as he mouthed “Problem?” and the man looked away quickly. Carmine smirked, looking back at the menu as Haven spoke again. “Do you see anything you think you might like?”

“I don’t know what any of this is,” he said. “The Italian I can read, but that doesn’t tell me a damn thing about how it tastes. What do you drink?”

“Black coffee.”

“Seriously? All of this fancy caramel chai frappe cappu-f**king-ccino venti latte bullshit and you get plain coffee?” She nodded and he chuckled, pulling her hand up and pressing a kiss on the back of it. “That’s the Haven I remember, the one who likes the simple shit.”

The barista asked Carmine for their order and he muttered, “Two regular black coffees,” his expression daring her to try to correct his lingo. She simply nodded as she rang it up, and he groaned when he saw the price.

“I have some cash on me,” Haven said, reaching into her pocket. “I think.”

“Don’t even dare,” he said, shooting her an incredulous look. “I’d rob the place before I let you pay.”

She removed her hand as he grabbed his wallet, pulling out a twenty-dollar bill. The woman gave Carmine his change, eyeing him warily, and he slipped a ten into the tip jar on the counter.

“That was generous,” Haven commented.

“Yeah, well, I kinda just threatened to rob the place, so I figured I probably shouldn’t stiff them on top of it.”

“You wouldn’t actually rob the place, though,” she said confidently.

“No, I wouldn’t,” he replied. “As long as I wasn’t ordered to, anyway.”

Carmine grabbed their drinks, leading her to a table in the corner away from everyone else. They sat and Carmine took a sip from his steaming cup, gagging from the taste. “This shit is bitter.”

She took a drink of hers. “Tastes fine to me.”

He dumped in as much sugar as he could fit, adding some creamer to make it a bit more tolerable, but he still had no desire to drink it. They chatted as Haven sipped her coffee, and he listened intently as she told him about her life in New York. She talked about going to school and creating art, about the people she had met and the friends she had made, before she explained about hearing the details of his father’s death on the news.