Taste (Cloverleigh Farms, #7)(32)

Not right now. I’ll call you ASAP.





But what is HAPPENING?!

We were doing fine until he brought up the past. Then I got mad because clearly I enjoy hanging on to this grudge with all my might. Pretty sure I need therapy.





Or sex. You could take out all your anger on his body. I bet it would feel good. A blizzard bang. It wouldn’t even count.

I frowned, even though part of me wondered if maybe she was right. Maybe a blizzard entitled you to make dubious sexual decisions in order to stay warm and/or alleviate boredom. But Gianni?

NO WAY. I HATE HIM.





Boo. Call me when you can and stay safe.

Behind me, the bathroom door opened. With my back to him, I plugged in my phone. Then I folded my arms over my chest, refusing to look at him.

“Ellie, come on. What is it you want me to say? I’m sorry for making you want to kiss me when we were seventeen? Fine. I’m sorry. But you started it.”

“Me!” Outraged, I whirled around and faced him. “I didn’t start it! You brought up the seven minutes night!”

He moved closer to the bed. “I meant back then. You were always too good for me, you wouldn’t even look in my direction. And the first thing you said to me in that closet was, I don’t want you to kiss me.”

“I didn’t!” Because he had the advantage of height, I jumped onto the bed so I could feel bigger than him. “And you want to know why?”

“Because of the dunk tank?”

“No! Because I was scared.”

He looked perplexed. “Of what?”

“Liking it too much. Wanting you that way. Being kissed by you because you had no choice, then being laughed at and tossed aside.”

“Why would I have done that?”

“To humiliate me! The same reason you refused to kiss me after you did all that stuff to change my mind.”

He looked genuinely surprised. “I didn’t do it to humiliate you, Ellie. I did it to get back at you.”

“For what—the pies?”

“No.” He took another step toward the bed, so close I could have reached out and grabbed him. Or slapped him. I was strongly considering both. One of his shoulders rose. “I guess because I wanted you to know how it felt to want something and not get it.”

“Ha!” I was bursting with so much shock and indignation, I had to jump up and down on the bed to burn some of it off. “I think you have it backwards, Gianni. You were the one who got away with everything! You were the one who could have anybody—and you did! Because you were the one everybody wanted. You still are—look at what happened tonight!”

“Ellie, stop.” He grabbed my arm, but I wrenched it free and kept jumping. “You don’t understand what I’m saying.”

I couldn’t stop. It felt too good to get everything out. “I understand perfectly! The world is Gianni Lupo’s playground.”

He chuckled at that. “Listen. You are welcome on my playground any time you want. You always were—that’s what I’m trying to tell you. Yes, I messed around with a lot of girls in high school, but I thought you were hot as fuck and I wanted to kiss you that night. I was scared to let you know how much.”

“Bullshit!”

“Oh yeah? Let me tell you something—I didn’t even pull your name out of that hat. I pulled someone else’s.”

I stopped bouncing. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Whose name did you actually pull?”

“Fuck if I know. But not yours. I lied and read your name off so I’d finally get to make out with you. I didn’t think I stood a chance otherwise.”

I jerked my chin at him, although my heart was pounding. “You didn’t.”

“But you wanted it.” That look was back in his eyes—the one that spelled T-R-O-U-B-L-E. “You wanted me.”

I shrugged, wishing for the millionth time he wasn’t so hot. “For those ten seconds. Yeah, I did. I wondered what all the fuss was about.”

“Do you still?”

My heart stopped. “What?”

“Do you still want to know what all the fuss was about?”

“No,” I snapped, although my heart had started beating again at a speed that was highly unsafe for these conditions. “You’re too late.”

He reached for me, but I shrieked and leaped off the opposite side of the bed. Laughing, he vaulted the mattress and came after me, and I ran around the foot of the bed, squealing and panting. He rounded the bed too, and I hopped onto the mattress again, scrambling to the other side once more as he continued to chase me.

He caught me around the waist on the third lap, flipping me onto my back. Breathless and sweaty, I beat my fists against his chest. “Get off me, you scoundrel!”

“No.” Somehow he got my wrists in his grip and pinioned them to the mattress above my shoulders. “I want another chance. For years, I’ve been kicking myself for fucking up in that closet.”

“Good.”

“I let pride win, when I should have just gone with my gut.”

“And what was your gut telling you to do?” My voice was low and breathy now, and my eyes dropped to his mouth.