For a few long, sweet moments, we stare into each other’s eyes, frozen. Her hands are still holding my forearm, her soft fingers on my rough, hardened hands warm even as the water starts to get cold. Her touch is one of the things I’ve missed most from my old life. I never want it to end.

But as strong as my arm is, as powerful as the body sitting before her in the little shop may be, those eyes of hers hold me still. Her gaze searches mine. Those eyes are feasting themselves, staring right into my soul, making me want to let her know everything they want to know even as my own eyes hold her paralyzed.

Finally, I let myself give her the smile I’ve been waiting years to give her.

“Ciao, bella.”

And just like that, we’re teenagers again.

Tears swell up like springwater in those endless eyes, and her lip quivers for half a second as a tidal wave of emotion crashes through her system.

“Bruno!” she squeals, and before I can open my mouth, she flings herself at me, little arms wrapping around my torso as she buries her face in my chest. My chest is rippling with muscle, but even I can feel how tight she’s trying to squeeze me, and I couldn’t keep the grin off my face if my life depended on it.

My thick arms wrap around her, practically covering her in me as I hold her warmth against my body, and I hear her start to sob before I can put my lips to the top of her golden head. My large hand strokes her back, and I feel my own heart swelling as I give her a gentle squeeze back.

“Serena,” I say, and it feels so good, so free to feel her name roll of my tongue. I’ve held myself back from this moment for so long. I still don’t know if it was the right choice. But right now, in this moment, I let myself just be with her as we hold each other tight.

I’m a hardened man, but I can still feel. And Serena is the sweetest feeling in the world.

After what feels like forever, she turns her head up to look at me. Those wet, reddened eyes don’t dampen the smile on her face. “Oh my god, it really is you! I...I can’t…”

“Shush, shush, you’ve been through a lot today,” I say, giving her a reassuring squeeze, my huge arms holding her protectively. I feel her take a breath and let it out slowly.

She bites her lip, trying desperately to bring her emotions back in line, but it’s useless. And I can’t believe the joy I feel in my own heart—the relief.

She isn’t afraid of me? After everything. After how we parted ways last time?

Not only that, she’s overjoyed to see me. To be with me.

“I just...I never thought I’d see you again,” she confesses, half-laughing, half-sobbing. She sniffs, wiggling an arm free to wipe her eyes and laugh at herself all over again. “Oh my god, I’m such a mess, don’t look at me!”

It’s my turn to laugh as I hug her tight to me as she tries to get away, and she gives a little squeal of delight as I give her a bear hug that lifts her feet off the ground for a moment. It’s like no time has passed between us at all.

I set her down and release her. She immediately grabs a paper towel from the counter and dabs her eyes, checking in the mirror to see what the damage is. She could have raccoon eyes streaming down her whole face, and she’d still be irresistible to me.

After another sniff, she takes a step back and looks at me with a gaze that really see me for the first time. “Oh my god, and you were in here yesterday! I... I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you!”

I give a cocky smile. “That was the plan. Besides the glasses, though, I’ve changed a lot, Serena.”

“No you haven’t,” she says in a laughing sob, looking over my face as more and more recognition crashes through her. “If it weren’t for that beard... but I’d know those eyes anywhere,” she says, dreamily, and I can tell she only half-realizes the words are coming from her mouth. Catching herself, she blushes and runs her fingers through her hair, getting a stray lock out of her face. Another sniff.

“You’re one to talk,” I say, a warm smile on my face as I take her in, looking her up and down. Her face reddens at my gaze, but she doesn’t turn away, either. She always was like that—she liked to play shy, but my gaze excited her. It always had, and it still does, I see. “Serena, you look... incredible.”

A moment passes between us in silence as we just stare at each other, smiling stupidly. Teenagers all over again.

But her smile fades, and I see concern on her face. “Bruno... my god, where have you been all these years? Have you been safe? Do... do you know those guys that were here earlier? How are you even still in town, I--”

“Serena,” I cut her off gently, putting two hands on her shoulders. I feel her instinctively melt in my hands, shoulders relaxing immediately. I never believed her when she told me I have a calming presence, but it’s true for her, at least. “Serena, you’ve had a terrible day thanks to some terrible men. You don’t need more things to trouble yourself. Not today, at least.” I return her smile as those doe-eyes look up at me. “But I do think you could stand to get out of here and get a drink. Why don’t we go get something?”

A smile slowly creeps back over her pretty face. After a moment’s hesitation, she says, “I think I’d like that. Yeah.”

* * *

“Nice ride,” she says as she climbs into the passenger’s seat of my black company sedan. “Nicer than that beat-up old pickup I remember.”

I smile as she shuts the door and I pull out onto the road.

A lot of baggage comes with this car, Serena.

Still, it feels good to make her happy. I shift up through the gears and start tearing down the roads we’ve both grown up around.

“So,” she says after a moment, “got anywhere in mind?”

“Well,” I half-laugh, “the places I usually go, I don’t think you’d find the most relaxing.”

She smiles. “Still running with the old crowd, huh?”

“Something like that,” I say. The only place that comes to mind is a dive that some of the rougher Italian crowd haunts. It’s dingy, falling apart, and doesn’t have anything you could call service, but it’s been my place for a while. It’s got a homey feel to it. But just because it’s homey doesn’t mean it’s the place I’d take someone shaken-up to calm down.

“I’ve got somewhere you’d like, though,” I say, remembering somewhere... cozy. It’s a mob-run place, and while it’s a little closer to work than I’d like to bring her, it’s somewhere I know is safe.

I follow the roads to a place that I’m not sure I’d call a hotel, exactly, judging by the outside. It’s an older building, but people have taken care of it over the years. Good people. As good as you find in this business.

“Room With A View?” I hear Serena say as we pull up on the side of the road and climb out of the car.

“I haven’t been here in a long time, but I remember it being a good place. I’m sure it doesn’t look like much from the outside, but-”

“Are you kidding?” she laughs, a bright smile on her face, crossing the street with me and looking at me as if I’m unreal. “I totally know this place, come on!"

I blink in surprise as she runs ahead of me to the door, but I follow. She’s really been getting around, hasn’t she?

The interior is all wood—and good wood, at that. It’s an old building. A few candles are burning on the tables, and the windows are just dark enough to make the whole place feel cozy. Past the tables and the bar, I see a set of stairs leading up to the next floor, to what I assume are a few rooms. It can’t be many. The place is tiny, and it looks like most of the people here are here for the drinks.

There’s a woman with light brown skin and dark, curly hair behind the bar, and her eyes light up at the sight of Serena.

“Hey girl, you didn’t tell me you were coming over!” she says, coming around to cross the floor and hug Serena around the neck. Even as she does though, she gives me a suspicious look, eyeing me like a judge. “Who’s your tall friend?”

I crack a smile at the protective edge in her voice.

“It was kind of a last minute thing,” she says, breaking the hug and turning to me. “I’ll explain later. Rafaela, this is Bruno. He’s... an old friend,” she introduces me with an anxious smile, and I watch Rafaela’s eyebrows go up in understanding as she glances at me. “Bruno, this is Rafaela. She runs this place,” she adds with a wink. Rafaela rolls her eyes.

“Co-owns. Nico’s around here somewhere. I’ll have him come get your orders. I’m... guessing you two want a table?” she asks, giving Serena a curious look. Serena rolls her eyes, holding back a grin.

“That’d be great,” Serena says, “thanks.” Rafaela watches us as we head to a quaint little table by the window, surprise written all over her face. Serena must not bring guys through here very much.

I have to be careful as I slide into the tiny seat. The table’s a little low, so I put my legs out to the side as I awkwardly fit my way in. Serena giggles as she watches me, and I grin back.

“Rafaela and I go way back,” she says once we’re situated. “She’s like, my best friend. I wouldn’t have survived college without her.”

“Sounds like she keeps an eye out for you,” I say.

“Yeah, she can be like that. Kind of like a big sister, too. She likes putting that Psych degree to use.”

A man with his sleeves rolled up approaches the table, looking at both of us with a warm smile. This one, I recognize, and we give each other a knowing nod.

His name is Nico Tosetti, and he’s what we call an associate. One of us. He must be the boyfriend Rafaela mentioned. I’ve crossed paths with him once or twice, but he’s small potatoes—which is a good thing to be, in this business. He’s a tall, goofy-looking guy, and he’s got a good heart. He doesn’t need to be tangled up in this business too deep.

“Bruno,” he says with a smile, “didn’t think I’d see you around here.”

“You know each other?” Serena asks, looking surprised.

“Yeah, we’ve met,” I say, clapping hands with the guy. “Didn’t know this was your place.”

“Me and Rafaela,” he says with a nod back to the bartender. “They said running a bar would be a nightmare, but between the two of us, it’s the dream,” he says with a boyish smile.

Probably a hell of a lot better than enforcement on the south side of town, I think, and I give him a nod.

“So, what can I get you two?” he asks, putting his hands on his hips. I make eye contact with Serena before I speak.

“Got any Campari back there?”

“Of course.”

“How about a couple Americanos, then? Hold the Vermouth.”

“So...just Campari and soda water?”

“That’s right.”

Nico nods with a smile before darting off, and I catch Serena grinning at me across the table.

“Bastard Americanos, huh?” she asks, and I feel a grin spread across my face. An Americano in this case isn’t the coffee—it’s a cocktail with Campari, a little Vermouth, and soda water. Back in the day, when we were younger, I’d find ways to sneak a bottle of Campari every now and then, but I never bothered with the Vermouth. So, I called them ‘bastard’ Americanos.

That was also because I was a teenager still learning English, and I’d just learned the word ‘bastard.’

“I’m surprised you remembered,” I say.

“‘An Americano for my Americana?’ How could I forget that?” she says, and I cover my face with a massive hand.

“Oh god, I forgot about that,” I laugh, remembering that cheesy line, and soon I can hear her laughter too.

“It was cute!” she says, and as our laughter fades, her face gets a little more pensive. “Feels like a lifetime ago. Sitting on the back of that old pickup you and the other boys worked out of. Sneaking drinks from some Italian place I couldn’t pronounce.”

I look at her, sitting there, the picture of beauty. The dim lighting in here just makes her all the more alluring, and I want to just take her right now, as if years hadn’t passed between us.

But we’re moving fast. Too fast. We need to talk, and I know it. And yet... why spoil the moment while it lasts? As if on cue, Nico sets our drinks down in front of us and heads off.

“It’s been too long, Serena,” I say, watching her as she takes her drink and stirs it pensively.

“I know,” she nearly whispers. “I still can’t believe it’s real. You, here, I mean.” She looks up at me and hesitates a moment. “Those guys, back there at the shop…”

“The Cleaners,” I say in a low tone, glancing around the bar. I don’t want to stir up commotion here, and talking about a rival crime syndicate is a good way to do that.

“How did you know they were gonna be there?” she asks.

“Things are getting rough, Serena,” I say before taking a swig of my drink. “I was worried someone might come causing trouble around your place. I was right.” She’s watching me with wide eyes. “I have to be my own eyes and ears. It’s how it always is, with these people.”

“So it’s true,” she says softly, looking into my eyes. “You’re working with…”

The words the mafia hang between us. I nod.

“It’s been a long few years, Serena,” I say. Even low, my voice is gruff, and the beard and long hair don’t help the image. I reach over and cover one of her small hands in my large, warm one. “For now, just know that I’m not going to let anything happen to you. And you don’t need to worry yourself about all that right now, okay?”

She looks at me with that glint in her eye I know so well. Serena doesn’t like things being held back from her, and I know she’ll come back to this soon enough. She’s a precocious girl like that. So it’s all the more surprising to me when I hear her say, “Alright, sure.” She tilts her head to the side, narrowing her eyes at me. “Just tell me one thing, if you’re gonna be all secretive... what’s with the beard?”

I’m left speechless for a moment, then burst out laughing, putting a hand to my face. “I don’t know, really. What, you don’t like it?”

“Do you?”

I frown. “I’ve had it since…” Since life tore us apart. “For a while.”

“I think I miss your face,” she decides.

“I’ve been missing yours, passerotta mia.”

She blushes before hiding her face with her drink, which she finishes with a tinkling of ice cubes. “Woo, I forgot how strong that stuff is!”

“Careful now,” I say after finishing my own. “I know how much of a lightweight you are.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve gotten lots better,” she says playfully. Before I can reply, the sound of music floods the bar as someone turns on the speakers, and I flash a glance at the little open space between the tables—a wooden floor perfect for dancing.

Anyone who passes up the chance to dance with a pretty lady is no man at all.

“Alright, let’s see it then,” I say, standing up, and Serena flutters her eyes in confusion as I reach down to take her hands.

“Wait, what?”

“Rafaela, two more!” I call to the bartender, and she winks at Serena as I drag her out to the dance floor.

“Bruno, what are you doing?” she laughs as some of the patrons give us amused looks.

“If you’re so good at holding your liquor, let’s see it! What good are a few drinks if they don’t help you dance?”

She yelps as I swing her onto the clearing between tables that passes for a dance floor, and the next moment, I’m drawing her by the hand all around me. It’s lively music, the kind you jump into to shake off your embarrassment and get into the heat of it. Serena is laughing already. After the first few awkward seconds of jerking around, we’re dancing. I’m normally not a man who expresses himself much. Especially not the past few years. But the way Serena dances around me, the way I can lead her so easily, it kindles an old fire in me.

That, and well, dancing is in my blood.

A song goes by, and by the time the one after that is done, a few people around the bar have joined us. Our blood is racing, and after Serena and I grab another drink, we dive right back in. It’s like there’s nothing else in the world but the two of us.

We don’t need words. All that gets shed by our body language. And as I’m watching her body move with mine, leading her on effortlessly, I realize how much I’ve missed her.

More dangerously, I realize how much I want her.

I need her.

Her soft hands brush against my muscular forearms, my strong hands on her hips, her ass against my crotch, the energy between us draws us closer and closer.

She turns, and our eyes meet for just a second, and it’s like lightning flashes between us. Primal desire is bursting through, even though both of us have been trying to ignore it this whole time, but its message is plain as day.

We want each other. Now.