Tony had ruined her for al future romance. Not even hot Italian chefs who adored her and were wiling to rearrange their entire lives for her, were capable of swaying her heart.
She was going to be in love with Tony for the rest of her life. Damn.
“Wel I promise to make it up to you with the best take out breakfast we can find in the morning.” Tony abandoned his search and turned to find Libby staring thoughtfuly off into nowhere. “You look tired. Want to see your room?”
“Okay.” Libby numbly folowed Tony up the carpeted spiral stairs. Charming she thought. Just like the rest of the house, and just like Tony.
“Wel this is the bathroom—there’s another in the master so you can have this to yourself, and my room is that door there.” Not that she needs to know that. Tony chided himself. “And this is you.” Tony swung the door open to reveal a guest bedroom that was furnished with his childhood furniture from the Marchetti’s.
“No wonder your parents don’t have a guest room anymore.” Libby teased taking a step into the room.
Something wasn’t right. What was that noise? They both saw it at once.
“Shit!” Tony rushed forward feeling the bed. It was soaked. And there was a steady drip coming from the ceiling above. “Oh man!” Tony moaned as he puled the bedding back revealing the soaked mattress beneath.
“Know any good roofers?” He joked lightly over his shoulder.
“Sorry, no.” Libby shook her head. “Is it very awful?” She asked.
“Not as bad as it could have been. The bed is trash, but it probably saved the floor. And I knew the roof needed work. I have just been too busy to look into it.
Guess I should have made time.” He shoved his fingers through his hair. “Okay. Damage control.” He jogged out of the room and returned with a big sheet of plastic, and a large pot. They pushed the bed out of the way, and put the plastic drop cloth in its place to protect the floor if the pot didn’t catch al the drips. Afterwards Tony carried the bedding down to the laundry room.
Having done al they could Tony and Libby stood staring at each other in the halway. Because now there was one bed.
“Sorry about this, Lib. Listen, you take my room.
I’l…”
“Sleep on the couch?” Libby finished for him with a smirk.
“The floor, I guess.” Tony grimaced at the idea.
Libby knew the obvious solution was to ask him to take her back to Stuart’s. But something else had been niggling at the back of her mind since her epiphany in the kitchen—she wasn’t realy Nona because Nona had 16
months of happy memories. So if Libby was doomed to spend the rest of her life alone, she was damned sure going to have at least one memory.
“Can’t we share?” Libby hoped she sounded sultry. She didn’t have much cal for sultry in her life, so she was sort of making things up as she went. “I mean we are both adults and old friends… I am sure we can share with no problems.” Okay now she was getting sultry confused with slutty. But she was getting desperate so maybe slutty would work. Besides Tony had only ever been interested in her as a casual partner—maybe slutty was good? No, she had some pride, slutty was out.
Tony’s throat went dry. So did his brain—al the blood seemed to have deserted his brain. How much had she had to drink? Did she have any idea what she was saying? Tony tried to think back and count the hours since her last glass of wine. He hadn’t had anything but water al night. He had been punishing himself by living through al those Mia Betta’s stone sober. He was pretty sure that it had been several hours since the wine—pretty sure, but not positive.
“Tony?”
“We can share. I guess that would be okay.” He couldn’t do it. Wel he could do it. Physicaly he was definitely able. But you don’t take the woman you love to bed for the first time after she’s been out al night drinking, not to mention dancing with another man. Of course that was tonight. Tomorrow was a different story. “Umm wait here.” Tony rushed into the master bedroom. Libby heard a few clunks and bangs. He was straightening up for her!
So very charming. “Okay. That’s as good as it’s gonna get.” He popped his head back into the hal.
Walking into Tony’s bedroom made Libby’s stomach flip. It was so very like those nights when they had stomach flip. It was so very like those nights when they had been teenagers playing monopoly. Except they weren’t teenagers anymore, and Tony’s parents weren’t asleep down the hal, and they didn’t have a monopoly board.
“Nice.” Libby commented as she took the master bedroom in. The bed was big and sort of made. She had a feeling he had thrown the covers up just now. A big picture window looked down over his back yard, or it would if it weren’t so dark outside. A door that probably led to the master bath was on one wal, there were a few dark wooden dressers lined up against another wal, and matching nightstands framed the bed.