Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
“I can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt.”
She places her hand on my cheek. “Maybe that’s the incentive you need to end this, huh?”
“I meant what I said, Bella. Consider your mom’s college tuition paid.”
“And I meant what I said—no handouts.”
Leaning forward, I stare deeply into her eyes. She might be young, but I see so much experience, strength, and fire in her eyes. “Is this really about the college tuition?”
“I haven’t decided how I feel about the other stuff,” she says, but her voice wavers.
“If we’re going to do this,” I tell her, “we’ll need to be seen together in public. We need the Gallos to know I’m serious about you.”
“Serious,” she repeats. After a pause, she says, “For the performance, right?”
“No,” I say passionately, leaning forward even further. “Not just for the performance. This is more than that and more than music.”
“It is?” she whispers.
“Don’t pretend you don’t feel it, too. Don’t pretend you didn’t feel it the first time we texted each other.”
“Matt,” she whispers, just my name, but how she says it, there’s so much passion in the simple word. It’s like she’s declaring so much else. Before, I might’ve thought I was reading too much into it. I might’ve warned myself to calm down, but not now.
This time, when we kiss, it feels different, like there’s an added significance to it. If I wanted to go full sappy romantic—which, miraculously, Bella makes seem somehow appealing—I’d say I’ve been waiting my whole damn life for Bella Rossi.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
BELLA
“Adate?” Mom says that morning, sitting at the obsidian bar of the well-equipped kitchen, sipping a coffee.
I nod. “Yeah, Mom, a date. I know this is sudden, but I think Matt’s a good man despite everything that’s happened. I know it might sound crazy, but you’ve always trusted me before, and look, we’re here. We’re safe. Nothing bad has happened.”
Mom frowns, looking at me closely. I can tell she’s trying to work out if I’ve lost my mind or under duress. Maybe she thinks Matt is blackmailing or threatening me somehow. She takes a long sip of her coffee when she sees I’m not hiding anything.
“You’re in love with this man, young lady.”
“In love?”
“What else would you like me to call it? You’re glowing. You seem different. No, that’s not it. You look just like you did as a little girl, all full of hope for the future before …”
Reaching across the bar, I touch her hand. “Before what, Mom?”
“Before you realized how poor we were. How hopeless our situation was.”
“Our situation was never hopeless. Just look at us. We’re doing well for ourselves. Don’t be melodramatic, okay? And please, no more in-love talk. We’ve texted more than talked, and it hasn’t even been a week.”
“I believe what my eyes tell me. That’s all I know.”
We sit silently for a while, both of us drinking our coffees. I try not to let her words take too strong of a grip on me. The idea of falling in love always seemed distant to me, and that hasn’t changed because of some texts and kissing and closeness. Has it? Can it?
“Do you want to help me get ready?” I ask.
Mom looks up from her coffee. It takes a while, but slowly, a smile touches her lips. “I never told you, but I sometimes wished you’d go on dates in high school. Nothing crazy, but so that we could have that mom-daughter bonding.”
“It’s never too late, Mom. You’re proof of that.”
Sitting in the guesthouse’s living room, I wait for Matt to pick me up. I try to convince myself that I’m only doing this for Mom’s tuition. I had to give myself that excuse when I offered to help. Truthfully, I offered because Matt looked like he needed it. Something deep inside tugged, like a musical note thrummed in us both.
I’m going to be about fifteen minutes, his text reads.
Okay, I reply. I’m ready. Are we going anywhere fancy? I put on my nicest dress, but that’s not saying much.
You could wear sweats and a hoodie and still be the most beautiful woman in any room you walked into, Bella. You don’t have to worry about the way you look, ever. If you want something to entertain you till I get there, Sofia found a video of me from when I was in my mid-twenties. She enjoys going through Mom’s old DVDs when she’s bored.
What sort of video?
It’s me playing the guitar.
You play the guitar?!
“Good news?” Mom asks from the other couch, which makes me realize a glowing smile has spread across my face, matching the same glow expanding in my chest.
“Matt plays guitar. I didn’t even know.”
Mom looks at me in that searching way again. Her expression is torn, almost like she wants to be selflessly pleased for me, but she’s worried about letting her feelings get too far ahead.