I shove him away, and he scrambles back.
My body is vibrating with anger.
I turn to Izzy, finding her muscles bunched tight, a slight tremor wracking her small frame. Pulling her into me, I cup her cheek. “Hey, you okay?”
She blows out a breath. “Yeah, I—Thank you,” she murmurs, her cheeks heating. “I feel embarrassed that he affected me. I almost forgot… until…”
I nod, understanding. “It’s okay,Cuore mio. You’re allowed to feel.”
She smiles at me, eyes twinkling. Beautiful.
“Dance with me?” she asks, pouting playfully.
How could I ever deny her?
I shouldn’t. I’m supposed to not show weakness. Now morethan ever.
But…
For the next hour, I forget all about my new position. Instead, I dance with the most beautiful woman in the world, feeling her warm body pressed against mine. She’s terrible at it; the woman has two left feet. But it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters, except her.
The whole time, I'm thinking that maybe she fits with me better than I once thought.
20
This Doesn’t Change Anything
I hope Santa brings you everything you could possibly wish for this year. I miss our holiday traditions. —Lots of love, Enzo
Izzy
It’sbeenalmostamonth and a half since Lucas and his friends dumped me on the side of the road, hoping I was dead.
I hate that I’m still hiding away, keeping a low profile. It stalls our progress with taking down Lucas’s operations, but it’s a necessary delay while we work out how he knew of our plans.
It’s Christmas Eve.
Massimo invited us over, along with many of theirmen. It’s a huge celebration. A little intimidating, can’t lie. There’s loud chatter everywhere, people in every direction.
I’m stuffed full, having eaten my weight in fish forIl Cenone di Vigilia, also known asFeast of The Seven Fishes. It’s an Italian tradition; one I haven’t partaken in since Papa died.
Enzo and Dante are deep in conversation, leaving Noemi and me to catch up.
“How are you doing?” Noemi asks quietly.
I shrug. “Better, less jumpy.”
I ended up confessing everything to her a few weeks ago when she stopped by with more clothes for me.
“Good.” She waggles her eyebrows. “And you and Enzo?”
I groan, heat flaming my cheeks.
She smirks, eyes twinkling with delight. “Oh my god, something happened.”
“No,” I hiss. “Well, maybe. Not really. We kissed,” I admit in a hushed whisper. “And maybe he ate me out after I killed a guy,” I mumble, the words tumbling out quickly.
She whispers-squeals, and I shush her.
