The car drive to the restaurant is silent. I am giving Santino the silent treatment. My frustration is a tight, angry knot high in my chest.

His amusement is obvious. It shines in his eyes, bright and clear like the large moon hanging in the dark sky.

He rests his large, warm palm on my exposed lap. My skin feels instantly hot where he touches me. I smack his hand away. Thwack!

He grips my lap firmly again. I rain down more smacks on his hand. Thwack! Thwack! I am trying to hurt him, but his ...