“Sorry,” someone calls out as the noise stops, and I cross my arms in front of my chest.
I’m an idiot. She hates me. She’s my brother’s best friend and vice versa. We live together. We’re about to work together. Everything is moving against us, and it doesn’t matter how desperate I am to taste her, to feel her in my bloodstream, it’s not happening. I can’t let things get out of control like this again, which is why I brush off what happened like it was nothing. I hope she doesn’t interpret it as me not wanting her because, fuck, I do. I hate that I do, but I want her more than I’ve wanted anything in a long time.
“Let’s go,” I say and step toward my car.
We stay quiet for the entire ride to my parents’ home while I list every single type of vegetable in my head to calm my overcharged body. It works eventually, but a strange feeling lingers in my chest. I wanted things to go further with Chiara. We’ve grown closer, but I have no fucking clue how I feel about her. She’s sitting next to me, staring out the window and chewing on her bottom lip, and all I want to do is tilt her head to me and kiss her lips. At the same time, I feel the need to put as much distance between us as humanely possible.
My thoughts are interrupted as we arrive at my parents’ home. Starling gets out of the car without a single word spoken between us, and I take a moment to collect myself before following behind her. I try to keep my eyes trained on the sky because her shorts are riding higher than my cock can handle at the moment. I’m happy it’s summer, truly, but Chiara has been wearing clothes that drive me absolutely wild. Even her plain green shirt is bloody sexy, and there is nothing special about it. My gaze shifts to her backside again as we move up the stairs, sending a thrill through my body.
“Stop staring at me,” she says without turning her head. “I can feel your gaze on my skin.” It almost makes me smile.
“Stop swaying your arse so much,” I reply to annoy her, and she shoots me a glare.
“You’re impossible,” she says, knocking on the front door.
There is nothing but silence for a moment. Then a weak, “Chiara” out of my mum’s mouth sends me into high alert.
Starling rips the door before I have the chance to. We rush inside, but the fear in me soon multiplies by a million when I see Mum on the ground with blood seeping from her leg. The shelf that usually stands at the entrance is on top of her, and I run faster than I’ve ever gone to lift it off her. Sounds of pain are leaving her, but Chiara is right by Mum’s side, brushing her fingers over her arm to let her know she’s here.
“Call an ambulance,” Starling says after I’ve lifted the dresser off Mum. I reach for my phone, listening to the soft voice of my roommate. “What happened, Rena?” she asks, inspecting the wound. Chiara seems to contemplate something, then rips her shirt off and in half before tying it around Mum’s leg to slow the bleeding.
“I stumbled,” Mum replies, her voice getting weaker. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Hi, yes, I need an ambulance, please. My mum hurt her leg. There’s blood everywhere,” I try to explain while sounding calm, but panic has consumed me. I give the emergency responder the address before hanging up and turning to my mother, brushing the hair out of her face. “Is it just your leg or something else, Mum? You’ve got to tell me,” I beg and cup her face.
“Just the leg, darling, but it hurts. How bad is it? You know I can’t see, so you have to tell me,” she says, and I shoot Chiara a look, not sure if I should be honest or reassure her. I know what the right thing to do is, but it might not help Mum right now.
“Don’t worry, Rena, the bleeding is slowing. You’re going to be okay. All we have to do is wait for the paramedics so they can take you to the hospital, alright?” Chiara says, and I notice she’s right. It’s not bleeding as much anymore, not since she wrapped her shirt around Mum’s leg. God, I could kiss her.
“Mum, where is Dad?” I ask, holding onto her hand as I watch Chiara staring at hers, covered in blood and shaking. She catches me staring at them, so she clenches them into fists and lowers them behind Mum’s other leg to prevent me from seeing.
“He went out to get us some bread for lunch,” Mum replies, and I squeeze her shoulder to acknowledge her words without replying.
My eyes remain on Chiara, who mouths ‘Breathe’ at me. I do as I’m told, letting the oxygen filter through my system. It helps the swirling happening in my head, so I keep repeating it.
The paramedics show up minutes later and take Mum onto a stretcher and then to the ambulance. Dad comes home in time, panic washing over his face. He starts yelling at me, demanding answers because he’s freaking out, but I assure him everything will be fine, that he should ride in the ambulance with Mum. He goes without another word. I turn on my heels and walk back inside, toward the guest bathroom where Chiara is viciously scrubbing her hands. By the time I get to her, the blood is already washed off, but she keeps rubbing them together. I turn off the water and grab her hands in mine.
“It’s okay. She’s going to be alright,” I say while she stares at our hands. The paramedic assured me her condition isn’t life-threatening, but she’ll probably have to get surgery and definitely needs a blood transfusion because she’s lost too much. But she’ll be okay. He assured me she will be.
“Sorry, I’ve just—I’ve never seen so much blood, and I usually faint at the sight of it, so it really is a miracle I’m still standing, but it might still come, who knows at this point, I could still pass out, so you might have to—” I bring my hand to her heaving chest and press down on it, cutting her off.
“You told me to breathe, now I’m going to tell you the same. Breathe, Starling. You’re not going to faint because my mum needs you to be strong, okay?” She nods a few times, her face unbelievably pale. I need to get some sugar in her. “Let’s go find you a shirt, and a piece of chocolate,” I say and take her hand to lead her out of the bathroom.
“I’m pretty sure I’m the one who is supposed to comfort you,” she blurts out when we arrive in my childhood bedroom.
“You kept me calm. Now I’m returning the favour,” I reply because she really did. “I also heard the paramedic say she’ll be fine, you didn’t.” I look through my old clothes until I find a shirt for her.
“I’m sorry,” she says, and I spin around, holding the top out for her. She takes it and quickly slides it over her sports bra.
“Don’t apologise. You did everything right, and I appreciate it, Chiara. Thank you.”
I take her hand again and lead her to my car. We have to meet Dad at hospital. I don’t want him to be alone while Mum is in surgery. God. Mum needs surgery. Maybe I’m not as calm as I was trying to convince myself of, but when Chiara squeezes my fingers to remind me she’s right next to me, I feel my breathing and heart rate settle into a normal speed. It’ll be okay. Chiara is here with me.
That thought never settled me more than it does in this moment.
CHAPTERTWENTY
chiara
