by C. M. Albert
“So, when I lost my virginity to Rocco Del Vecchio—”
“Wait, what?”
“Yeah, I thought I told you at the quarry? That’s where I lost my virginity.”
“Yeah, you mentioned that. You never mentioned who it was with, though.”
“Oops,” she said, looking sheepish.
“Go on.”
“Trust me, there’s no reason to be jealous after this story. He basically acted like he was my friend, even flirted with me some in PE. I should’ve known something was up. But he was also my science lab partner, so I spent more time with him than most other students. And he was a nice kid. He never gave me a reason not to trust him, other than the fact that he was a jock on the baseball team. They never gave me the time of day. I was a non-entity to them.”
“I’m sorry, Rosalie.”
She shrugged. “It was a long time ago. I’m over it now. But it stung at the time. Because before we even got back to school the next day, people were whispering behind my back, even more than usual. And a few guys came up to me and gave me their numbers, which was definitely unusual. Finally, the girl who shelved books with me in the library had the courage to let me know what was happening. Apparently, after he took my virginity, and we fell asleep on the blanket together, Rocco decided it would be funny to take a picture of my tits and send it on blast to the entire baseball team with the caption, ‘Home run!’ Really clever, huh?”
Zade seriously wanted to go find the guy right now and knee the asshole in the balls. What kind of dick does something like that to anyone, let alone a girl like Rosalie? He didn’t even realize he was gripping the sheets or that the veins were probably popping out of his neck until Rosalie kissed them, soothed him. Here she was, the one telling the painful story, and she was easing his feelings.
“Rosalie—”
“It’s okay, Zade. Like I said, it was a long time ago. The point of the story isn’t even Rocco.”
“It gets worse?”
“Much,” she said, closing her eyes. “I really hope you don’t hate me after this.”
“I could never hate you,” he whispered, rubbing his cheek to hers as he kissed the side of her head. “I’m too busy wondering how I got so damn lucky that you are even here with me.”
Rosalie released a hefty sigh and closed her eyes. “You could have anyone, Zade,” she quietly reminded him.
“But I want you, Rosalie. When are you going to get that in that cute, little, thick skull of yours?” He nipped at her lip, tempted to kiss away her doubt, but he wanted to hear the rest of her story, let her get out what she needed to say.
He suspected once she did, most of her walls might come down. And there was nothing he wanted more than all of Rosalie Alexander’s heart.
TELLING ZADE ABOUT Rocco had been humiliating, but Rosalie knew she had to press forward. She wanted him to understand why Brecken was so protective of her, and why she was hesitant to jump into a relationship. Both of them had hurt her, and not just in little ways. In big, soul-shifting ways. It was true that everything happened for a reason; at least, that’s what Rosalie believed. So she counted even her pains as blessings. One right after the other.
When she looked up at Zade and saw the raw compassion in his eyes, she realized that if every event in her life hadn’t happened exactly as it had, she wouldn’t be sitting on his bed right now, feeling safer and more in love than she ever had before with a man.
She needed to finish her story before she lost the courage.
“The incident with Rocco took me from being the freak of AG High to the slut. Even though he’d been my first and only.”
“High-school kids are monsters,” he said, growling.
She laughed. “They truly are.”
“So how does Professor Dreamy fit into all this?” he joked.
“He wasn’t a professor, just the PE coach,” she said.
“Oh. Well, in that case . . .”
Rosalie’s lips lifted into a half smile, but her heart was aching at what she had to admit next. It was her biggest regret and what she carried the most shame in her heart over.
“After Rocco, I started noticing all the attention I was getting from the guys at school. I’m not stupid. I knew what they were after. And while it felt good, it also pissed me off. Before, when I was just Rosalie, not one of them was kind to me or gave me the time of day.
“One day in PE, I opened up my locker and it was plastered with pictures of my boobs, all covered with the word slut written in red marker. I couldn’t go out there. I was embarrassed and ashamed. So I sat in the locker room in one of the changing stalls for the entire gym period and never came back out after my classmates had left. Coach Durant must’ve known I’d skipped because not much later, he came in and found me sitting on the bench with my arms wrapped around my knees and crying. I’m sure I was quite the sight of teenage angst,” she said, chuckling, though the memory still hurt deeper than she cared to admit.
“Rosalie, you know you did nothing wrong, right? Those kids had no business shaming you like that. They were the ones who screwed up. Not you.”
“I know that now,” she said. “I’ve done the work grieving for my teenage self, and healing. But it made me who I am, and it’s the reason Brecken is so protective now.”
Zade nodded, so Rosalie continued. “The long story short it that Mr. Durant—I called him Simon—was genuinely kind to me. It started as a place for me to go to feel safe after school. I’d skip PE class and then make up the work after everyone else was gone. Though, admittedly, it ended up being more of me sitting in Simon’s office while he did paperwork, and we chatted more than I actually did any phys ed.”
She sighed, remembering her afternoons in his office, and all the mistakes they’d made. “He was funny—I mean really quick—and sarcastic. He had a lot to say about some of the kids, and that made me feel like we were on equal footing, because he was confiding in me as if it were us against them. I knew he was married,” she whispered. “But it didn’t stop things from happening.”
She took a deep breath but went on. “He became my second lover, and it was so different than with Rocco. With Rocco it was fast and painful, and then even more emotionally painful afterward. But Simon let me take out my frustration and feelings on him and helped me gain my power and confidence back. I played it off like it didn’t mean anything, but I was still only sixteen then, and romantically involved with an older, married man. My heart didn’t stand a chance.”
Zade rubbed Rosalie’s hair as she continued, and she wished it was as easy as staying cocooned with him like this forever. “I never felt safe with him though. It was always dangerous, risky. I feel safe with you, Zade. I want you to know that.”
“Rosalie,” he said, his voice hitching. He grasped her hair tighter, bringing her in for a deeper kiss. Every nerve ending seemed to sigh as she opened herself for him. She didn’t know how he did that. Chipped away the doubt, the walls, as no one else had been able to before. Maybe it was because, for the first time, Rosalie truly felt seen. Appreciated for who she was, not what she was or what she could do.
“I’ll never hurt you, Rosalie,” he said.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she said shakily. “I don’t know what to do with you, Dr. Zampogna.”
“I can think of a thing or two,” he said, nipping at her neck and moving down her body. He wasted no time gently lifting layers of cloths and covering her skin with his lips, tracing her curves, paying homage to her freckles. She giggled when he kissed the skin on the side of her abdomen, flipping her onto her stomach. The giggle died on her lips though when he slowly rolled her skirt down her legs and made his way back up them with the slow caress of his tongue. Rosalie gasped when Zade’s mouth met the hot center of her legs, kissing her, worshiping her even. She clutched the duvet in her fingers as Zade pressed forward with his tongue, gently parting her backside with his fingers so he could taste her even deeper. Rosalie moaned, closing her eyes and losin
g herself in his perfect ministrations until her insides unclenched and she came. Hard.
Zade made his way up her back, his fingers sliding between Rosalie’s wet thighs as he covered her back with his body. They dipped in, and Rosalie could hear him groan as they moved faster, curling to bring her pleasure once again. Then his fingers were gone and Zade’s mouth found Rosalie’s over her shoulder, his breath hot and fast as he whispered her name against her lips.
He reached past her and grabbed a condom from the bedside drawer, finding her lips again as he rolled it on behind her. When he slid inside her, his body wrapped around hers protectively, and Rosalie surrendered. She’d never felt as cherished or safe as she did with Zade. There were no boundaries between them as he pressed deep inside her, filling her, blurring the lines of where she ended and he began. She pressed against him when his pace quickened, causing Zade to groan as he sat up and kneeled behind her. She felt his strong, sure fingers as they lifted her hips, pulling her even closer against his stomach as he filled her to the very brink.
“Oh, God!” Rosalie cried out, nearly sobbing with relief when Zade set a steady pace with his hips, thrusting as hard and fast as he could until they both tumbled over the edge and collapsed, spent, their bodies glistening with sweat.
Zade curled around her, bringing Rosalie onto her side. He was still inside her, and she wasn’t sure she wanted him to ever leave. She closed her eyes, and before Rosalie knew it, she was fast asleep, her dreams building a future she couldn’t have with a handsome, green-eyed doctor.
HE COULD’VE WATCHED her sleep all night long, but he was exhausted. The day had beaten him down, even if it ended on the best note imaginable. So when he awoke and found Rosalie still sleeping naked on her stomach, the sheet barely covering her backside, Zade took a moment to let his eyes wander over her gorgeous form. She was curvy in all the right places, her waist dipping down against the mattress and rising gently over the round curve of her backside. She had a little dimple right where the sheets broke and he traced it with his finger.
She’d been so worried the night before about what she’d told him, yet none of it mattered. Rosalie wasn’t the same person anymore, and the hurt girl had blossomed into one of the kindest, sweetest, most intriguing women he’d ever met. Brecken had worried about how she’d fit into his life, but the truth was, he loved her most for how she stood out. He’d dated those women before, ones who wanted the fancy car and country club memberships. Rosalie was light-years away from the type of women they were, and that was just one of the many reasons why he was crazy about her.
Not for the first time, he wished his mother was still alive. He wanted nothing more than to talk to her about Rosalie, get her opinion. He knew exactly what she would’ve said, and how she would’ve said it in her thick Italian accent.
“You don’t need to understand her with your mind, mio figlio. You already understand her with your heart. She’s magia. Pure magic.”
And then she would’ve reminded him of her own love story, the one with Papa.
“I met your papa when I was sixteen. You didn’t see him getting scared off because of my age, did you? No. He waited. He waited until the time was right, and he loved me every second he could until then. He always told me I was vale la pena l’attessa. Worth the wait,” she’d say and chuckle. “I’d say Rosalie is, too. Capire?”
It was as if he could actually hear his mother speaking these words of wisdom to him as his hands traveled over Rosalie’s soft back. She was right, of course. Rosalie was worth waiting for. Not that there’d been any doubt of that. But soon, he’d have to convince Rosalie of that, too.
She stirred, her body arching against the mattress as she stretched out long and lithe, like a feline. When she rolled over onto her back, she cracked one eye open slowly and peered at him from under her heavy black lashes. God, she was beautiful in the morning, her long hair all tousled and sexy.
“Morning,” she squeaked out, grinning.
“Morning, Netflix,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose.
“Did you just call me Netflix?”
“I did,” he said, his mouth now brushing her soft, full lips.
“Why?”
“Because I couldn’t stop watching you all morning,” he said, nuzzling against her neck and drawing her body against his in a hug.
“That’s the Dr. Z I know and love,” she teased. But the words died on her lips as she caught his reaction to the word love. She must have misunderstood it, because she quickly backpedaled. “Oh, God. I didn’t mean love, love. I meant it in the friendly way, you know, like—”
Zade didn’t let her finish, he cradled the back of her head and brought his mouth to hers, devouring her, needing every bit of her she could give. He still couldn’t get enough. He wanted to ask her not to leave, but he couldn’t. Her dreams were too important. He would find a way to get out to California and see her as much as possible.
When their bodies found each other again, it was if they both knew that, for now, it might be goodbye. As he slid inside her, he cradled her head in his hands, his eyes locking onto hers. He wanted to memorize the way she looked when she came. Their bodies moved in unison, as if they were made for one another and had done this a thousand times before.
All his life he’d been searching for what his parents had, and in the blink of a moment, he knew he’d found so much more. Not just the love of his life, but his best friend, too. Somehow Rosalie had snuck into his heart and laid claim. She was indeed magic, and he wanted nothing more than to be under her spell for eternity. He couldn’t have stopped the words from coming out if he’d tried.
When their bodies arched together, one last time, he covered Rosalie’s whimpers with his mouth as she came, devouring her passion like it was the air he needed to breathe.
“God, I love you,” he rasped, his arms drawing her against him as closely as he could. “You might not know what you want from me yet, Rosalie, but I know what I want from you.”
“What’s that?” she whispered.
“Everything.”
SHE DIDN’T WANT to say goodbye to Zade, but knew she had to. Rosalie had so many loose ends to tie up before she moved, and the days were disappearing faster than the girls Brecken brought home. Speaking of Brecken, she decided she would check on him that morning at the café. She looked down at the rumpled clothing she’d worn yesterday and decided to check on him after a warm shower and some fresh clothes.
“Are you going to the hospital today?” she asked as she packed everything Agnes gave her into a bag Zade handed to her. It had the Arden’s Glen Regional Hospital logo on the side of the canvas tote.
“No, I have some other errands I need to do,” he said, clearing up their breakfast dishes.
“Well, I’ll try to stop by at some point to drop the bag off,” she said, tossing it over her shoulder and squaring her body so she could face him. “But as much as I’d like to, I can’t stay overnight again. I need every spare minute before I leave, and I still have to say goodbye to Celeste and Dez,” she said, going through her mental checklist.
“What is it?” she asked Zade when she saw his brows furrow.
He shook his head and glanced off into the distance for a moment before his gaze swung back and met hers.
“Can we chat for a minute? Before you go?”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“Let’s go sit in the living room, if that’s okay?”
“Uh, okay,” she said, following his lead as he held her hand and steered her toward the couch. She sat and faced him before asking, “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, there’s just something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, and there never seems to be a good time. And, honestly, I forgot about it until now.”
“Sure. What’s it about?” she asked, setting the heavy bag onto the couch and curling her legs beneath her to get more comfortable.
“I should’ve mentioned this last night, probably,” he said, running his han
d over the back of his head and tousling his adorable, already messy, overgrown hair. “When you were talking about your past.”
“It’s okay. I kind of like how we spent our time,” she teased. When his smile didn’t quite meet his eyes, she started to worry. “Look, Zade, whatever it is you want to tell me, you can. I’m a good listener, and I’m far from being able to judge anyone. You were sweet enough to forgive me for one of my biggest regrets. I think whatever you have to say will pale in comparison.”
“I slept with Dez,” he said, rushing the words out so fast it took Rosalie a minute to process what he’d just said.
She had to have heard wrong.
“When?” she asked calmly, in a voice she didn’t recognize as her own. Her insides were screaming NO! Why couldn’t he have said anyone other than Dez? The weight of last winter’s embarrassing rejection from Mitch knifed her in the heart once again as if it were a fresh wound.
“It was a long time ago, Rosalie. It was a night of too much tequila and karaoke, and that’s about it. We were never together again after that, and I’m embarrassed to even admit that I’ve had a one-night stand.”
Rosalie closed her eyes and breathed in as deeply as she could, then counted until she could hold it no more and was forced to release. That’s what she felt like in this moment. As if she was being forced to face one of her biggest fears of not being enough for someone. How could she ever compete with Dez? She’d tried once, and lost.
She stood up slowly and threw the tote over her shoulder, inching past the coffee table.
“Rosalie!” he said, standing with her. “Sit down. Let me explain.”
“You don’t need to explain,” she said. Then she removed the contents of the tote bag and set it on the table, tucking the box and photo album under her arm.
“I get it. It’s Dez. Apparently she’s pretty hard to resist in these parts,” she said, sounding more bitter than intended. “Look, it doesn’t matter, right? It’s in the past.”
