Page 41 of Run to Me
“You made dinner.” His voice is full of awe and wonder, as though never in his wildest dreams did he think he would come home to find me cooking.
I suppose it probably is a little strange that I’ve just helped myself in his home, but he’s the one wanting me to stay here for the foreseeable future, what does he expect?
“I was hungry.” I shrug. “I also didn’t know if you had already had dinner, so there’s a plate for you too, but if you’ve eaten I’ll just put it in Tupperware for you to have later,” I say, suddenly nervous.
A wide smile lights up his face that threatens to steal the breath right from my lungs.
“Come on angel, let’s eat.”
Enzo sets the table for us both before carrying our plates over. We sit and eat while making small talk. Neither of us mention what happened earlier today before he left for the hospital, and I prefer it that way. I’m not sure I’m ready to have that conversation yet. He tells me about his brother, and how he was convinced Izzy was going to leave him, but they’ve since sorted out their differences. Honestly, their relationship is confusing to me, but I let him tell me anyways.
He’s animated as he tells me about his sister-in-law, and I realize that she’s probably the first person he’s had a close relationship with that doesn’t share his blood.
Once we finish eating, Enzo tells me to pick a movie while he does the dishes. I’m sitting on the couch, flicking through the options on the tv while watching him out of the corner of my eye. Everything with him is so casual, and it all feels very domesticated. Tonight has been so relaxed, you’d have thought we did this every night and not that we don’t actually really know anything about each other, other than whatever he learned about me from his research.
I decide on some cheesy rom-com for us to watch since Enzo left it up to me to choose—he probably won’t watch it anyways—and he joins me on the sofa.
“What’s got you thinking so hard?” he asks.
“Just that I don’t really know anything about you, and I’m not sure how much you know about me. It’s weird that we’re basically strangers yet here I am, staying with you.” I shift, so I’m sitting in the corner of the sofa, legs tucked underneath me as I face him.Enzo turns too so that he’s casually leaning against the arm of the sofa facing towards me.
“I only know the generic stuff that Izzy gave me, I didn’t want to get too much information on you that way. You wanna get to know me, angel? Wanna get to know each other? I’d love that… let’s play a game.”
“Game?”
He seriously wants to play a game?
“Uh huh, twenty questions. You can start.” He smirks at me, burrowing his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.
He wants me to start? What the hell am I supposed to ask him? There’s so much I’ve been wanting to know, but now that I have the opportunity to ask my mind suddenly blanks and I can’t think of a single thing. Enzo must sense me struggling because he lets out a deep chuckle.
“Alright, angel, I guess I’ll start. Favorite food?”
“Tacos, you?”
“Mmm, right now it’s my dad’s lasagna that he would make when we were kids, but I have a feeling it could change some time soon.” He gives me a cheeky grin and I furrow my brows.
Is he talking about my food becoming his favorite? I’ve only made him spaghetti and meatballs, the sauce straight from a jar so it’s not like—and it hits me… he’s not talking about food at all. My cheeks heat from the insinuation as images flash through my mind of earlier today and what could have happened if we weren’t interrupted.
I clear my throat, though it comes out as more of a squeak before Enzo takes pity on me and continues to play the game. We sit there for hours, and I learn more about Enzo in that time than I have since the moment we officially met.
Favorite restaurant? Di Nuovo’s—also the restaurant I last went on a date—which just so happens to be owned by his family.
Favorite color? Green—like my eyes.
Favorite person? Me.
Second favorite person? Izzy.
Favorite book? Doesn’t really have one.
Favorite time of year? Fall.
We’ve changed positions now, I’m lying on the sofa, feet resting in Enzo’s lap as he strokes my ankles, drawing invisible lines with the pad of his finger.
“Okay, last one. What made you get the angel wings tattooed on your back?” I ask.
His cheeks pinken the slightest bit and holy shit… is he blushing? “You saw that, huh?” I raise a brow, and he swallows before continuing, “I got that three days after I first saw you in the club, you were an angel that I wanted to have with me, always.”