"Pumpkin, dinner is ready!" my dad shouts from downstairs.

I'm still laying on my back, eyes pinned to the ceiling, waiting for them to call me for dinner while I don't want to go downstairs for this dinner, terrified to meet again the man I'm daydreaming about and who I find to be extremely desirable. I can hardly understand myself.

I feel it's wrong to spend more time than it's strictly necessary around uncle Enzo, and therefore I've chosen to retire to my old room until dinner is ready, but it's not him I'm hiding from. It's my parents who must have sensed already the uncontrollable tension that grasps me when Enzo is around.

What will my parents think if they know I'm attracted by uncle Enzo, that his kisses and touches make me feel in ways that my heart says are right but my brain says they are so wrong?

How my father will feel about his lifelong friend desiring his daughter in the most shameless ways? What Enzo would do if he knew how I felt about him?

That allurement for each other is pretty strange and down straight forbidden, less to talk about the flirting he has tried earlier today.

I mean, it was cute ... well, better than cute... kind of... I liked it. And it's not right.

I shouldn't like it. He's my uncle. He's the one that, equally to my dad has treated me all my life like I'm his own child.

Well... bullocks! He's not actually my real uncle, but he's my mom's age. And he can very well be my father. And he is my dad's best friend.

But he is not my father. And he is not my uncle. And he is damn gorgeous. Like really charming.

Tall, thin but still toned and worked out body, those black, big eyes gazing at me, making me shiver, and his gorgeous smile with perfect white teeth and plump lips that are messing with my insides every time they kiss my knuckles, making me wonder how would it be if he forgets just for a moment who I am and has his way with me.

Because that is definitely what I want from the moment I've met him at the airport.

'What the hell is going on with me?' I say to myself, snapping you of my thoughts, gradually sinking in frustration and confusion, conflicting thoughts reigning in my brain.

"Oh, God!" I grunt and roll on my right side, feeling trapped by all these feelings that keep tormenting me and growing no matter how much I try to ignore them.

'Uncle Enzo my ass' I mumble Pepa's words. Enzo! He's just Enzo. I don't want to feel like those dirty uncle's girls (whatever the hell that means), feeling the way I feel around him and calling him uncle at the same time.

"Eve, are you coming, love?" mom shouts this time and I crawl out of the bed, not very keen to join them for dinner but quite vexed to see Enzo again, butterflies battering all over my chest in the predicament of seeing him.

"Coming, Mamma," I tell her, and I walk to the bathroom to wash my face and my hands, and before I exit I glance once more at my reflection in the mirror.

I look pale and my lips are white and cracked and that makes me think I could use a little color, so I apply some blush and a pink lip gloss. Maybe a little mascara. Oh, and some perfume wouldn't hurt, right?

Feeling much better about myself, I walk out of the bedroom and get downstairs to the dining room where dad and Enzo are helping mom set the table for dinner.

"I thought she was going to bring Emillia to you," dad says while placing the plates on the table and Enzo bringing the glasses.

"I thought so too, but... she changed her mind at the last minute," Enzo replies with a sigh. "So, I advanced my trip here. Businesses have gone slow lately so..." he continues talking with dad, a fine line showing up between his frowned eyebrows.

"Who's Emillia?" I asked, stealing a cracker from the bowl my mom is bringing in, trying to look relaxed although the mere sight of Enzo makes my heartbeats go wild again.

"My daughter," Enzo replies, and I freeze, searching for his eyes to ask a 'what the hell!' but his eyes keep avoiding me, acting all cool and distant.

It seems like Enzo from the airport has been just my imagination.

I turn around and pretend I need a glass of water. Disappearing in the kitchen, I'm grateful for escaping that stiff tension out there.

My breathing is heavy, and I grab the kitchen island, leaning my entire body weight on my arms, waiting for my racing heart to slow down.

He has a daughter, so a woman in his life would be the next most natural thing, right?

"She is five," Enzo suddenly says, standing in my back and I jump out of my skin, turning around and meeting a brick chest right in my nose.

"What?" I mumble, lifting my frowned gaze to his face and there it is again, the lust in his eyes while staring at me.

"Emillia. She's my daughter. She's five years old, and her mother and I have never been together. It was just one drunken night mistake," he clarifies, and I don't understand why he feels the need to do it.

My breathing stops in my throat and I struggle to ease the growing anxiety keeping myself silent, though trapped in his stare.

"I don't care!" I spit at him, angry and overwhelmed by the desire I feel for him, turning me into a madly jealous woman with burning cheeks and eyes spitting fire.

I move out of the kitchen before he has any chance to reply, brushing myself against his arm, and leaving him behind.

Soon we've started dinner and I keep silent all along. They have been talking and talking about things from their past, catching up with news and stories I've never heard about.

We really look like a family around the dinner table.

Mom and dad are jovially talking, and the three of them are caught in stories of their past while I don't say a word, keeping myself away from their recollections and immersed in my own thoughts and the confusing attraction I feel for Enzo.

Each time I hear Eno laughing loudly, I steal a glare at him, following him leaning against the backrest of his chair, shaking his brawny chest and wide shoulders, which I shamelessly admire.

I've hardly eaten anything, playing with my food mostly, head leaned against my palm.

"Eve sweetheart, are you okay? You barely touched your food," mom says, breaking my thoughts.

"Wha... yeah, I'm fine. Just a little tired. I guess I'll better go home. I have classes early morning and have had little sleep lately," I say, standing up and grabbing my plate to take it to the kitchen, knowing for sure that I need to leave the house right now. I need to distance myself from Enzo.

"I'm sorry I can't stay to help you clean up, Mamma," I continue, coming back just to meet my dad's worried eyes and my heart skips a beat when meeting Enzo's glare.

"Pumpkin, are you sure you don't want to spend the night here?" dad asks standing up and walking towards me, giving me a warm hug not before planting a kiss on mom's head while passing by her.

'Under the same roof with him?! Hell no!' I mentally shout.

"No, dad. I need to be in school early morning and my apartment is closer," I reply, snuggling at his chest just as I used to do when I was little and carefree, pouting having only the worry of missing candies and sweets.

Or when there was no Enzo scent lingering in my nostrils, or a touch of his hand.

"Well, at least let Enzo drive you. He loves that coupe anyway," dad chuckles.

"No, dad. I'll be fi...," I try to avoid any closed space between me and Enzo.

"Of course. Come on, Eve. Grab your things. I'll drive you," Enzo jumps eagerly, and I'm getting ready to fight it, but he's already standing up and walking toward me.

I hide again at my dad's chest, refusing to look at Enzo, but that has only increased my dad's worry and I feel his muscles firmly stiffening.

"Don't make me worry, pumpkin. Let Enzo drive you, okay?" he says, cupping my cheeks, locking his soft eyes with mine, full of love and care.

I look back at him, asking silently with my gaze not to make me accept it but, damn it! I can't resist those puppy eyes.

No matter how tough my dad is in his usual life, with me he's always melting like butter and there is nothing I can refuse him in my turn.

"Okay, Dad," I tell him and wrap my arms around his neck.

"That's my good girl. You know I love you, don't you, sweetie?" he whispers in my ear, his voice betraying uneasiness.

"I love you too, Dad," I reply, and plant a kiss on his cheek. "I love you, Mamma. See you tomorrow," I hug mom as well and turn around, walking towards the entrance door, grabbing my bag and putting on my shoes, gracefully ignoring Enzo like the brat that I am. Sometimes.

He opens the door for me allowing me to walk out first and before I reach the car, he's already opening the passenger seat door for me.

Absently, I get in and fasten my seat belt, waving at my parents one more time while dad wraps mom's waist in a hug, waving us from the frame of the front door.

Enzo takes his seat and after fastening his own seatbelt he honks twice while turning on the engine.

"You didn't have to drive me. I could have taken a cab," I say in a cold voice, doing my best not to look into his eyes.

We are already out in the mansion's alley.

"I know you could have. I wanted to drive you home. I need to make sure you're home safe," he replies with the coldest tone so far, almost freezing the blood in my veins but still, I don't give in.

"Why? I wasn't much of a presence for you at the dinner, anyway," I mumble, and I wonder what the hell is wrong with me talking like that.

"You were very much of a presence for me, Eve. By the way, that make-up makes you look cute," he continues with a smirk. "I just got caught in the discussion with your mom and dad. A lot to catch up with. We didn't see each other for years."

I hum and continue looking out the window, gluing myself to the door as if the air around Enzo is burning.

Well, it is burning!

From time to time, I would catch his face with the corner of my eyes, hard and concentrated on the road, looking distant and not at all like the playful Enzo from the airport.

He's driving at the speed limit this time and his mind is clearly busy with something I can't figure what it is.

And he's awfully quiet, nervous, I can say. His jaws look clenched, and the knuckles of his hands are paper-white, gripping firmly the steering wheel.

"Why did you come back?" I ask him, breaking the uncomfortable silence between us.

He turns his face to me for a moment, staring, his eyes piercing mine as if they want to burn holes.

"Business," he replies sternly, shifting his eyes on the road.

I decide to stop the questions there and wish for the trip to be short.

Ignoring his cold being since we both have got in the car, I realize I'm being attracted to him more than I should, and that in a strangely short time. And he isn't doing things easier for me.

His looks are intense, his voice is deep and his stares get lost in my glare every time we are close to each other and I'm sure I'm responding unconsciously in the same manner.

That's why I can't wait to get home fast and be away from him.

We drive in silence for the rest of the ride before we reach the city.

"So, where to?" he's asking once we drive deeper into the streets.

"Just take straight on the main boulevard and then the last street on the right," I reply without looking at him, almost spitting my words.

"Do you have to be this nasty?" he asks, making me turn my face to him, surprised.

"What the F? I'm not nasty! And if I'm, what is it to you?" I spit annoyed by his dare of judging me.

"That mouth of yours will get you in trouble, Eve," he mumbles, and I know that behind those words are other thoughts, thoughts that I share, troubles that I beg for.

"Maybe I'm already in trouble," I say and let it sink, grateful he doesn't reply.

The tension becomes thick and we both have things to say, but we don't. We prefer to let them hidden, unspoken, hoping they will disperse once they are ignored.

The car takes the right turn, and soon we arrive in front of my flat building. I unfasten the seatbelt and open the door to get out, but his hand grabs my arm, stopping me.

"Do you want me to walk you in?" Enzo asks me.

"You don't need to."

"I didn't ask if I needed to. I asked if you wanted me to," he answers me in a sharp tone.

I shift my eyes to him, looking into his dark ones, staring at me with million meanings.

"No, I don't want you to," I reply.

"Are you sure?" he insists.

"Yes, I'm sure, Enzo," I spit nervously. "Thank you for dropping me off." I continue in one breath and jump outside the car, running towards the entrance as if I run for my dear life.

*****
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