This is a first for me. I’ve never brought a girl to my parents’ for Sunday dinner. Not even Jenna. Ma never really cared for Jenna. Women’s intuition I think.

Opening the door to my parents’ place, the aromas that still make my mouth water hit me full force. I still feel the anticipation of sitting down for a meal that will stuff me full for days. Okay, I’ll eat the leftovers she sends us home with later tonight.

Madison’s hand is clammy in my own. I squeeze it to tell her not to worry, but her teeth are still nibbling at her bottom lip like they did most of the drive over here.

I purposely got here before Luca and Cristian. It’s a rarity that we’ll all be present for the dinner—usually one or two of us are on shift.

My dad comes out of the kitchen, his apron already stained red but sadly not enough to cover up the writing on it.

Madison giggles but tries to hide her response when she sees the words, If you like my meatballs you should taste my sausage. I’m not sure my mom understands the humor in the English language sometimes.

“Madison, the smarty pants. Welcome.” He extends his arms, gripping her by the shoulders and pressing a kiss on each cheek. “Mauro.” He ruffles my hair and kisses me on each cheek as well. “Come. Come.” He disappears through the archway of the kitchen, where I know Mama will be found.

Our house is small, a typical Chicago bungalow with three bedrooms. Each room smaller than the next. My bedroom moved to the basement as soon as I could escape Cristian at fourteen.

I’m eager to give her the tour, wanting more alone time with her even though we just got here.

In the kitchen, my mom is breading and frying chicken breasts while gravy simmers on the stove. She has all the salad preparations for Cristian on the small butcher block.

“Ma,” I say, coming up behind her and pressing my lips to her cheek. She pats my hand on her shoulder. The one she’s not currently using to hold the chicken.

“Mauro,” she says my name like she usually does, with love pouring out of every syllable, like I’ve done something to make her proud just by saying hello.

“Madison is here,” I whisper and she must’ve momentarily forgotten because she seems a little alarmed.

“Oh.” She whips around, chicken dripping down to the floor. “Hi. Hold on.” She hems and haws on what to do so I take the chicken from her hands and place it on the plate.

Rushing to the sink, she thoroughly washes her hands for thirty-seconds—as always—singing the happy birthday song in Italian. Madison probably already thinks we’re a bunch of nut cases.

“Hi Madison, right?” she asks before greeting her much the way my father did except she pulls her into her arms catching Madison by surprise.

“Maddie is fine. Thank you for having me.”

“I’m so happy you came. You’re welcome anytime.” Her eyes find mine across the room and she smiles her proudest grin, the one that says I did good, like when I joined the Chicago Fire Department.

I wash my hands at the sink, drying them on a towel.

“Can I help?” Madison asks like the good guest I knew she’d be.

“No. You go sit and enjoy yourself with Mauro.” She shoos us out of the kitchen as usual. It’s her domain.

We leave my parents much to Maddie’s argument about helping and earning her meal.

“Come on, I’ll show you where I slept in high school. Your fantasy come to life.”

She swats me in the stomach and I corner her before the basement stairs, caging her into the wall like I love to do. “Tell me no part of you wants to know where I slept in high school. Did you ever imagine it for yourself?”

Her cheeks redden. “Keep it up and you’ll be using your hand like you did in high school instead of my mouth,” she whispers in my ear.

My head falls back in laughter. “This is me backing off.” I hold up my hands in the air and nod to the basement stairs.

She follows behind me down to the wood-paneled basement. The smell down here is the same as I remember it and it makes me a little nostalgic for a time when this house was crawling with so much testosterone I thought it’d bust the walls down.

My parents haven’t changed the space at all. My bed still sits in the corner, a small table next to it with an alarm clock. The guitar I pretended to play to impress girls in the corner. The chair I played my video games in sitting front and center of the television.

I drop down to the bed. “This is where it all went down. Lube, my hand and a lot of dirty magazines lost their lives here.”

She sits down in the chair, watching me like I’m a different person than the one she walked in with.

“Come.” I pat the spot next to me. “I promise I don’t bite.”

She laughs, standing and coming over to my side. “I kind of like it when you do.”

Rolling her over, I kiss her lips, nibbling at her bottom lip. “You know I aim to please.” I gently bite all over her neck and jaw.

She swats me away. “We are not doing this in your parents’ house.”

I slide my hands up her sweater, finding a camisole that’s fitted to her body. “Double wrapped? Not cool. I’m supposed to have easy access all the time.” I let my thumbs trace over her breasts, finding two peaked nipples hungrily looking for attention. “Maybe I’m wrong.”

“Maybe you should reserve judgment until you’ve investigated the situation.” She eyes me, smiling over the fact she’s not wearing a bra under her camisole.

Great. Now I’m hard.

“You going commando on me, too?” I fiddle with the button and zipper of her jeans.

“You’ll have to wait to find that out.” Her hand lands on mine, stopping me.

“You expect me to go all day without knowing?”

She slides out from under me. “This is my first time in your parents’ house. I’m not about to let you get to third base.” As she stands at the side of my bed, footsteps start to sound from overhead. Seconds later they’re joined by loud Italians talking.

Madison winks and unbuttons her jeans and pries the edges open. A simple pair of red panties greet me that say, Hose Connection Here with an arrow pointing down.

“Come.” I wave her over, sitting on the edge of my bed now, adjusting my hard-on.

Surprisingly she obliges and stands in front of me as I pull down her jeans a little bit.

“I love them.” I press my lips right below her belly button.

She doesn’t fight me, so I take the opportunity to slide my finger under the crotch of her panties, feeling how wet she already is.

“Hey.” She backs up, zipping up her jeans, my obsession quickly covered up.

“What did I do to you that you’re punishing me so?” I haul her onto my lap and she winds her arms around my neck.

“Gotta keep you on your toes.” She kisses my cheek and the scent of her perfume overwhelms me in the best way possible.

I will never get enough of this, of us.

Small feet scurry down the stairs and she bolts up off my lap.

“Uncle Mauro! Uncle Mauro!” Devin runs across the room right into my arms.

I’m surprised to see him, but I hug him back. “What’s up Little Man? I didn’t know you were coming today.” I ruffle his blonde locks and hold my hand up for a high five. “This is Madison, my girlfriend.”

He stares her down and turns back to me without saying hello.

Another set of footsteps come down the stairs, a voice calling for Devin and my entire body tenses.

Cailin turns the corner and her head rears back in shock for a second.

I know things are about to get complicated when I hear Madison’s sigh.