Page 15 of My Italian Roommate

“I’ll just be a minute.” She skips through the door. I consider guarding the door, but I realize that I can use a pit stop of my own.

Mallory must have come out before me, and I find her cornered by Dylan McGee. He’s standing close, too close, and all I can see is red. I can tell by the look on her face that Mallory is uncomfortable but that she’s trying to be polite. Polite? To this asshole. No. She should have pushed him away or called out for me. The idea of the two of them standing this close is profane. It’s a damn crime. That’s what it is.

As I reach out to grab his shoulder, he leans forward and takes Mallory by the arm. His hand is positioned on the side of her chest and he’s looking clear down the front of her dress. I don’t know what he’s been drinking but the stench of alcohol surrounding him tells me that he’s drunk off his ass. Disrespecting my girl and touching her? He must have a death wish.

I use my left shoulder to shove Dylan aside and grab Mallory by the arm.

“Mario, are you okay?” she stammers, shocked by my aggression.

“Let’s go, now,” I tell her as I drag her toward the exit.

“But Tony said that you needed to stay until they called you to the stage.”

“Fuck the stage. I said we’re leaving.”

“Mario, I’m sorry if you think I did something but I didn’t. I just came out of the bathroom and he was standing there waiting…” she tells me but I don’t want to hear it.

“You couldn’t have just walked away?”

“I didn’t want to cause another scene.”

“I don’t want to continue this right now. Just wait until we get home.” Home? Did I just call her apartment my home?

“Hey, Mario!” Dylan shouts from behind us. My gut says I need to keep walking, but my pride says it’s time to put an end to him. I let go of Mallory’s arm and spin around to face him.

Everyone is watching as he stumbles toward me, but I don’t care. All I can see is the man who thought it was a good idea to put his hands on my girl.

“Why are you leaving so soon? I was just getting to know the beautiful Mallory,” he laughs and I raise my fist in the air. He turns his face to the crowd of reporters that have now gathered beside us and says, “Guess he doesn’t know about fangirls. We pass those around.”

He turns back and my fist connects squarely with his jaw. His head tilts back and his neck cracks. It bobbles like one of those toys and I hit him again, this time in the nose, which cracks under the pressure and spills blood onto his silk suit. He looks down at his blood-splattered hand and lunges at me. I catch him under the arms and toss him to the floor. What a loser. I can do this all day and not break a fucking sweat.

The flashing of the cameras blinds me, and in that moment, I realize that everything that just happened will be public record before morning. Yeah, well. What else was I supposed to do? Smile and act like nothing happened? Fuck him and fuck everyone who thinks I’m wrong.

I turn back to Mallory, who’s covering her face with her hands, and scoop her up, carrying her out the door.

My phone rings in my pocket. I know it’s Tony calling to rip me a new one, but I can’t deal with that now. I take the phone out of my pocket and throw it across the street. Mallory looks at me, wide-eyed and frightened.

The drive to her place is so silent that I have plenty of time to reflect on my anger before reaching our destination. I’m not angry at all with Mallory, but I do need to make a statement so she understands that this kind of behavior can’t go unpunished.

We pull up to the curb and get out of the car. I open her door but she doesn’t exit immediately. She just sits with her arms crossed, staring out the front window.

“This kind of behavior isn’t going to make things easier for you, little girl,” I hold my hand out to her and she takes it.

“What do you mean? Make what easier for me?” she snaps. She’s unlocked the door but hasn’t opened it so I reach around her and turn the knob. The door opens and I use my body to nudge her through.

Once inside, I sit down on the sofa and say, “Get over here.”

She moves slowly in my direction until I command her to stop.

“Take off your panties.”

“What? W-why?”

“Because I said so.”

She stares at me for a moment then lifts her dress, reaching under the hem. My cock twitches as I see her silk panties slide down her legs and onto the floor.

“Now, lift that dress over your hips and bend over my knee.”

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