“I can’t,” I muttered regretfully. “I have a ton of studying to do.”
Justin glanced around the library. “How much longer do you plan on studying?”
“Another hour or two,” I guessed. “I’m not sure.”
He started chewing on his bottom lip, a nervous trait. “I don’t like you studying so late,” he admitted.
His concern was sweet. “Justin, my dorm is only two blocks away-”
“Doesn’t matter,” he interrupted. “Bad shit can still happen.”
“I have my mace in my backpack,” I reminded him. Justin and I became friends at the beginning of our sophomore year, and the best thing? He’s never tried to hit on me. We met when we crashed into each other one morning, fighting to get into class because we’d both been running late. We got stuck in the doorway and that was that. We’ve been friends ever since.
“How about I go eat and then come back for you?” he suggested. “I’ll walk you home.”
I didn’t like the idea of him sitting around waiting on me, so I compromised. “How about you go do whatever you had planned, and I text you when I’m ready?”
Justin smiled. “Sounds like a plan.” He stood up, kissed the top of my head, and headed out.
I couldn’t help the tender feelings he invoked in me. Justin was a true friend and I really appreciated him. I was so thankful that nothing more ever came out of our friendship. It wasn’t that I didn’t find him attractive because he was. He was tall, with sandy blonde hair and bright green eyes. He also played basketball, so he had a nice build to him. But appreciating that he was attractive was different from being attracted to him. And I’d rather have Justin as a friend than a passing fancy.
It wasn’t that I didn’t date because I did. I had a couple of high school boyfriends and have gone on a few dates while at Sterling, but the vibe was never anything beyond casual. Even my high school boyfriends had kept their distance beyond kissing and holding hands. Even though I hadn’t been ready for anything more back then, I knew they stayed on the straight and narrow because they knew my brother was a member of the Benetti Family.
But, lately, I began to wonder about the rest of it.
I’ve often sat around while my dormmates talked about their dates and how romantic or passionate they were. They would gush over guys they were head over heels for. I’ve never felt that. Maybe because all the guys I’ve dated always started out as friends. We’d all hang out together before I’d get asked out and, by then, everything would just feel so casual.
I’ve never had a stranger come up to me and ask me out. I’ve never met mystery or danced with butterflies. I’ve never felt that hot rush of lust that you read about in books. I’ve never met a guy I wanted to get naked for. Sometimes I felt stupid being a college virgin, but I didn’t want to give it up just for the sake of getting it out of the way. If nothing else, I wanted to at least be attracted to the guy in that punch-drunk lustful kind of way.
And, surprisingly, Michael hadn’t subscribed to that big brother stereotype where he objected to me dating. When I first got interested in boys, he had made his position on my virginity clear. I had better be grown before I gave it away. That had been non-negotiable. He had made it clear that if I gave it away beforehand, he would kill the boy who took it. It hadn’t been a threat. It had been a statement of fact. And, because I knew he was serious, I guarded that puppy like it was akin to The Hope Diamond.
Once I turned eighteen, Michael’s only stipulation was that I dated men who were good to me. If not, their fate would be the same as the imaginary teenage boy who took my virginity. But, again, I seemed to only attract casual guy friends, so there was never any real fear of dating a guy who treated me badly or giving my virginity to some tool.
I wanted passion, though. I knew that much. I wanted someone who could ignite that want in me. I wanted someone I could lose myself in. I wanted a guy who made me lose my mind and not regret my bad decisions as long as he was a part of them.
I wanted a fairy tale.
Only instead of Cinderella’s Prince Charming, I wanted Belle’s Beast. And that need probably stemmed from being raised by an alpha male. Not to mention the legendary stories about how The Holy Trinity treated their wives. It was hard to contemplate, but the rumors were that Luca, Ciro, and Phoenix adored their wives. There were no mistresses, no disrespect, no dictatorships. It was rumored that the three women were just as strong, smart, and powerful as their husbands. Having never met any of them, I couldn’t say for sure, but I imagined it took a special kind of woman to be married to any of those three. Although it was fact that The Holy Trinity referred to Phoenix’s wife as Church.
And I realized that was what I wanted too. I wanted a man who was strong enough to get me through whatever pitfalls awaited me, but who was also respectful enough to know when to step back and let me handle my own shit.
I wanted a partner.
I wanted a partner I burned for every night. I wanted a partner who made me blind to all other men.
I wanted that goddamn fairy tale.
Was that too much to ask?
Chapter 3
Nico~
It drove me nuts when she did this shit.
As soon as the announcement warning had rung throughout the library that they were getting ready to close, Mia had gathered her stuff, put the books back, and had headed out.
In the dark.
Alone.
And that little travel mace she carried around with
