Page 59 of And Everything In Between

“Imagine trying to get rid of the only person who takes care of you. But he’s in Los Angeles finalizing his TV show. You’re stuck with me,” she said snapping out of it.

“He told me about that. I like him. Are you happy?”

Her smile softened. “Getting there.”

Perry leaned back, reclining in his seat. Paige came around to pass him his meds and he asked, “The boy make you laugh?”

“Yes, Daddy. That man makes me smile, laugh, and feel... it was like a miracle, wasn't it?,” Paige replied, recalling her father's words from that day. Her heart fluttered thinking of how Giovanni never missed a chance to show her she mattered.

“Then stop coming over here every day. I’m fine, Paige. You need to focus on yourself. I got a phone. I got what I need. Just call me to check in.”

She snapped out of her reminiscence and bent down to kiss her dad on the forehead; a lump formed in her throat. Each day spent with him wove another thread of forgiveness into the frayed DNA of their relationship. The man who’d once been a stranger with her father’s face was becoming someone shegenuinely cared for, and that transformation scared her as much as it healed her. Eventually she would lose him and that weighed on her. Time wasn’t on their side.

“Okay,” was all she could manage with her voice cracking slightly. Paige hugged her father and headed out with goodbyes and promises of talking tomorrow.

When she reached her car, the emotions she’d held in check spilled over. Tears ran hot down her cheeks, part joy at the second chance they’d been given, part fear that it might still slip away. She gripped the steering wheel, letting herself feel it all.

She’d gotten lucky in ways she never expected. With her father. With Giovanni. None of it had been planned, none of it was sought after. She’d built her life around independence, around needing no one, and now here she was, vulnerable, connected, sought out and showing up.

The hardest realization was that she’d been complicit in her own isolation all this time. Building walls so high that even she couldn’t climb them. Making herself so strong that she couldn’t remember how to bend. The weight of that understanding felt like an elephant on her chest, but she drew in a deep breath and released it slowly.

By the time she turned into Giovanni’s driveway, she’d wiped away the tears and reapplied her lip gloss. He never said what the favor was and that made her nerves prickly as she approached his home. He was still something of a mystery, layers she was only beginning to uncover, but she trusted him. Not blindly, not foolishly, but deliberately, again a choice she was making.

Like normal, she kicked her shoes off. And proceeded into the house. She loved his place, it was spacious, elegantly designed, and off the beaten path. Haven Springs wasn’t cheap to live in. The whole community had a gate, and then the houses had gates. It was insane.

The house smelled like lemon, cedar, and fresh polish. His housekeeper had been through. She went into the kitchen and found a note. That looked like the one he left her before.

Downstairs. Second door.

She grabbed the piece of paper and headed down. She didn't know what to expect, but when she made it into his man cave, she stopped dead in her tracks. On the far wall was a brand-new, floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, deep mahogany wood, built into the wall full of books.

Her hand flew to her chest as she took a step closer, then another. Urban fiction, Black romance, classics she’d loved and dog-eared, newer titles still on her TBR list. Every row was carefully stacked, curated with intention.

He did this. For me.

Tears pricked her eyes as she ran her fingers along the spines. This wasn't just thoughtful - this washonoringher. Really seeing who she was beneath all the armor she wore. No one had ever paid attention to what she loved like this. No one had ever cared enough to build her a sanctuary in their sanctuary.

On the middle shelf was a handwritten note, propped up like a title card:

Me and your fictional men want you to ourselves this weekend.

A giggle escaped her lips through her watering eyes. She was going to learn not to leave shit around him. She’d left her Kindle by accident, and it had turned out to be the best thing ever.

Behind her, she heard the door open. She whipped around, tears still in her eyes, to find Giovanni standing in a plain white tee and black joggers. “What we starting with first?”

Before she could even answer she took big steps and jumped into his arms, and murmured, “Maybe I do believe in dreams.”

“Is that right, baby?” he chuckled putting her back down on her feet.

“I missed you.” The words slipped out, soft and unfiltered, before she stepped back slightly, heat rushing over her skin. Just seeing him—home early, safe, waiting—sent a ripple through her. Her senses lit up before her mind could catch up. She was already aching in the places only he touched, already softening at the thought of his hands, his mouth, his everything.

“That’s how you feel?” he asked, knowing why she backed up; he knew her cues.

He reached for her, drawing her into his arms, needing to feel that closeness again. It was how he knew he was on the right path. He placed a slow kiss on her lips. “I missed you, too. You gotta come with me next time. You may be the only thing to make that place better.”

He kissed her again, tilting her chin up with his thumb, his eyes searching hers with an intensity that made her close her eyes and swallow.

“You mine for the weekend or what?” The possessiveness in his voice sent heat spiraling through her. Dare she say she was ready to crown him ruler of her heart.

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