Page 212 of Love Me Stalk Me
Luca snorts. "Hundred says Nico wins."
Mama slams a serving dish onto the table. "Not near my good dishes!"
They ignore her completely.
"Three, two, one—GO!"
Muscles strain. Veins pop. Cal's teeth clench with concentration as Nico grins, pushing hard.
The whole table is cheering, shouting, making bets. Even Mama has stopped complaining and is watching with barely concealed interest.
For a moment, it looks like Nico might actually win—Cal's arm tilts slightly backward—but then Cal applies pressure, and Nico's arm slams onto the table with enough force to rattle the water glasses.
And tip over a bottle of red wine.
The bottle topples in slow motion, splashing across the pristine white tablecloth before anyone can react.
"NICOLO ANTONIO RUSSO!" Mama shrieks, hands flying to her cheeks in horror.
Luca bursts out laughing. Matteo is already sopping up wine with his napkin. Nonna crosses herself, muttering about the Virgin Mary and stains.
"That tablecloth is from Capri!" Mama wails. "Afamily heirloom!"
Nonna nods solemnly, saying it belonged to a Roman emperor and is very sacred.
I lock eyes with Cal, who looks like he's trying very hard not to laugh.
"Um," I whisper, "it's from Pottery Barn, circa 2015."
He bites his lip to keep from smiling.
Dad, ever the peacemaker, calmly refills his glass from what remains in the bottle. "It needed to be replaced anyway, Maria."
"Lorenzo!"
"What?" He shrugs. "The dogs chewed a hole in the corner last month."
"They did WHAT?"
As if on cue, Tony Soprano and Lady Gaga dart under the table, barking furiously at the commotion. Dad whistles softly, and they immediately settle at his feet, where I'm sure more forbidden food will find its way into their mouths.
Cal? Cal looks like he's enjoying the show.
Which is insane, because this? This is a nightmare. He's about to undergo a full-blown hazing ritual, and I have no doubt in my mind that my brothers have already plotted their attack. Why, why, why did I think it was a good idea to invite my super hot, super protective, amazing...man....because I'm seriously not sure what we are yet, to meet my family? I need to not text while drunk anymore. In fact, there should be a feature on phones that if you misspell more than three words in a sentence, your phone locks you out for 12 hours to sleep it off.
We all pitch in to clean up the spill and before my brothers can sink their claws in further, Mama claps her hands, calling for silence. "Okay, let's say grace."
We all bow our heads. Mama starts, her voice soft and reverent. "Dear Lord, we thank You for this meal, for this family, and for the blessings You have given us."
I peek up slightly, just in time to see Nonna making the sign of the cross.
Mama continues. "We are grateful for the food before us, for the love around this table, and for the health of our children."
A pause. Mama doesn't stop there. Oh no. Because she hasn't prayed for her three single children yet.
"And Lord," she continues, voice dripping with dramatic sincerity, "we continue to pray for the three single ones to find someone who can put up with them."
I peek up through my lashes. Matteo's head is bowed, but his lips are twitching. Luca is grinning like an asshole. Nico is already looking at me like he knows exactly what's coming next.
