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“You don’t have to do that. My savings account is pretty healthy.” “I know, but let me do this for you. Consider it a gift for fighting so hard.” I nudge my shoulder against Dad’s. “You spoil me rotten.” “Of course. You’re my daughter.”
“I went ice skating once and fell so fucking hard my ass was sore for a week,” Renzo mentions. The corner of my mouth lifts. “I’d have paid to see that.” “We can go this winter, and I’ll fall just to make you laugh.”
“The fucking bulletproof vest is digging into my side,” Dario complains. “Don’t you dare take it off,” I mutter. The fucker bats his eyelashes at me. “When are you going to admit you love me?”
My eyes fall on a massive bouquet of red roses that takes up all the space on the coffee table in the living room. “Holy crap, that’s huge,” I gasp as I walk closer. “It was the biggest arrangement I could fit into the elevator,” Renzo says. “I was aiming for a rose for every tear you cried because of me.” “Renzo,” I breathe as I brush my fingertips over the petals. “You didn’t have to.” “Yes, I did.”
So here we are, standing in an orphanage with way too many cute faces looking for a home. “We should buy the orphanage and adopt them all,” I mutter.
