His arm wasn’t so strong then though, I remembered–not so well-muscled and manly as it was now. I used to look upon that arm as one to love and pr...tect–not one to look to for love and protection. Yet now…I looked up into his face, into those ever-changing hazel eyes, and I saw that the boy I loved had become a man. The soft edges had hardened, the jawline had become prominent, the eyes had grown serious and, sadly, a little tired. A new feeling fell atop all the old ones. And what was this. “No, miss.”“You’re virtually an adult, Giorgio, seventeen is old enough to know what made you get a hard-on. And one that was so obvious.”I glanced quickly out of the window to see kids clamber into vans, cars and people wagons, but more to ensure that no one was headed back through the half-closed door. I looked back at Giorgio; my head cocked to one side waiting for a suitable answer.“I’m sorry, miss.”I waited, amusement on my face but he didn’t elaborate.“Sorry for what?”“I was looking up. More

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