Page 15 of Raphael
She holds up a hand. "I'm not asking for details. I don't want them. But I grew up with a father who lived in two worlds. I recognize the signs."
"And that doesn't scare you?" I ask, genuinely curious.
"Should it?"
I step closer again, unable to help myself. "Most people would run. The others did."
She tilts her head, studying me. "I'm not most people. And I'm definitely not Alicia."
Chapter 6 - Annie
"I'm not most people. And I'm definitely not Alicia."
I've just crossed a line I told myself I wouldn't cross, but standing here in Raphael's kitchen, the taste of his kiss still on my lips, I can't bring myself to regret it.
"You should be," Raphael says, his voice dropping to a deeper register that sends shivers down my spine. "You should be running in the opposite direction."
"Maybe I should." I take a step closer instead of away. "But I've spent three years playing it safe, Raphael. Three years being the responsible daughter, the diligent student, the good girl who never takes risks."
"And now you want to take a risk with me?"
"Is that so hard to believe?"
He laughs, but there's no humor in it. "Annie, you have no idea who I am. What I've done."
"I know you're Marco's father," I say softly. "I know you'd do anything to protect him. I know you grew up without parents and swore never to abandon your own child. That tells me more about your character than whatever it is you do when you leave this house."
Raphael runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident in the tense set of his shoulders. "It's not that simple."
"Nothing worth wanting ever is."
His eyes snap to mine, darkening further. "Is that what this is? You want me?"
Heat floods my cheeks, but I hold his gaze. "Would it be so terrible if I did?"
"Christ, Annie." He turns away, bracing his hands on the counter. The muscles in his back flex beneath his shirt, and I find myself wanting to trace them with my fingertips, my lips. "You're twenty-one. You work for me. You take care of my son."
"I'm aware of all those things."
"Then you should also be aware that I'm not the kind of man you should want." He glances over his shoulder at me, his expression tormented. "I've done things that would make you hate me."
I move to stand beside him, close enough that our arms almost touch. "My father was undercover narcotics. I'm not naive about what that entailed. Sometimes he'd come home with this... emptiness in his eyes. Like he'd left pieces of himself behind." I take a deep breath. "I saw that same look in your eyes tonight when you came home."
Raphael turns to face me. "You're too observant for your own good."
"So I've been told. But now... Tell me something about yourself that no one else knows," I say suddenly, desperate to break the tension before I do something truly reckless like throw myself at him.
Raphael blinks, caught off guard by the shift. "What?"
"Something secret. Something you've never told anyone." I move back to my barstool, putting safer distance between us. "Think of it as a trust exercise."
A smile tugs at one corner of his mouth. "A trust exercise?"
"Mmhmm." I take a sip of my wine, trying to appear more casual than I feel. "I'll go first if you want."
He considers for a moment, then nods. "Alright. You first."
I set my glass down, thinking. "I still sleep with the stuffed bear my dad gave me when I was six. His name is Lieutenant Fuzzy."
