He was giving me this. The option.
“I don’t think there’s anyone in this town who doesn’t know who Brando Fausti is,” she sighed. “The girls love him. Most of the guys hate him but respect him. He’s…” She rested her chin on her hand, looking his way. “Brando Fausti. The‘Italian Stallion’ but without the cliché attached to the name. The kind of Italian that you see in high-end magazines, all decked out in thousand-dollar clothes, cheekbones on prominent display. He has a reputation. Always in trouble, but sweet to the girls. Actually, he’s sweeter to thewomen. That one is a recipe for disaster. A heartbreaker for sure. And he came to your rescue. Imaginethat.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I shifted a bit, the wood uncomfortable. “You said he’s sweet towomen. Carlos the Perv, as you call him, hit me and then laughed. If I were a guy, I would’ve socked him too.”
“See, that’s the thing. When I say sweet to theladies, he’s sweet until he gets what he wants. Then they never hear from him again.Capisci?I mean, look at them.” She raised a hand in his direction. Girls hovered around, taking turns approaching him and his friends. “Lookathim. He’s a prize to be won. Chasing him is an impossible game to be played. All that cool restraint? Just think about what he’s holding back. He lets it loose under the sheets. Or wherever.”
My cheeks stung from the sudden rush of blood. “That’s pathetic.” Who would want to change him? Why not let him want to change himself, ifshe,whoever she was,mattered that much.
“Ooh, someone’s mad.”
“I am not! But why make an ass of yourself? Look at the one standing next to him…she’s practically got her breasts shoved in his face.”
“It’s nice to see something—I meansomeone—has you worked up again.”
I turned my body to face Violet, so I wouldn’t be so tempted to stare. I refused to watch the show that seemed to be just beginning. “I’m not worked up, Violet. Besides, your thoughts are headed in the wrong direction. He’s a friend of Elliott’s. He probably felt sorry for me. Stood up for me the way Elliott would have.”
I didn’t tell Violet about our night in the snow. I refused to. The memory belonged to us. So she had no idea we had ever spoken before the bonfire party, or that we had what my heart insisted on calling a short but intense history.
“Have you noticed anything peculiar about tonight?” Violet hummed, trying to make her question seem more like a juicy mystery.
“Violet.” I stood, stretching, running a hand down my stained dress. “I’ve been physically assaulted, laughed at, and I would’ve been mortified if my give-a-shit meter was still in working order. I’m tired. I’m bruised. I’m ready togo. So if you have something to say, just say it.”
“No need to get saucy.” She stood, taking me on, even though the only thing big about her was her hair. “Guys never flirt with you. Theylookat you. Hoping you’ll catch them and then acknowledge their efforts. You are the epitome of beauty. No.Dauntingbeauty.” She shook her head. “English is really working for me this year.”
“Earlier you said I was beauty trapped in a tragic cage,” I reminded her.
“All great beauties are touched by the tragic. That’s what makes you so appealing. You are a classic, my friend. It’s hard to lookawayfrom you. And no one, not one soul, and there are a few here in need, has even so much as looked at you this evening.”
I tried to knock more mud off my clothes. “What does that even mean?”
“Hello.” She snapped her fingers. “Brando scared them away! What’s he even doing here? He’s too old for this scene. I’ve never seen him here before. Ben almost laughed at the idea of him stepping foot on this ground. He came here for the tragic beauty trapped in her cage, that’s why. The beast wants to rescue her and bring her to his lair.”
I laughed. Truly laughed. “Sure. Sure. And Carlos the Perv only knocked me to the ground to get my undivided attention. Like boys claim to do in Kindergarten when they have a crush.”
Violet gave me a square look. No humor. “It’s a known fact. When I was slow dancing with Ben I had wondered out loud why none of the guys at the party were even looking. Two words. Brando. Fausti. From what Ben claims, this is not the first time. Then one thing happened after another. And here we are. I saw with my own eyes what Ben had said was the truth.”
My eyes flew in Brando’s direction. He was watching me again. Mitch knocked him on the shoulder, motioning somewhere in the distance with his finger, while his mouth moved. Brando listened while his eyes stood intent on mine. After Mitch turned to the other guy, and a few girls, they started to move away.
Brando stood there for a moment, not following. His hand came up, a slow grin making its way across his face.
All of the air seemed to be sucked from my lungs. Something about him seemed too strong for this place, too overwhelming. The shape of his mouth alone made me go weak in the knees. What was he even doing here, in this small town? He belonged in some place exotic, some place warm. He belonged in Italy.
He turned to leave and my heart exploded in my chest. I couldn’t find it in myself to move, to even open my mouth. I must have been that way for a few seconds. When I could focus again, I realized Violet had been repeating my name over and over. Her hands were on my shoulders and she was shaking me.
“Did Carlos hurt you when he knocked you down? Scarlett? Scarlett!”
“I…” And then I was sprinting toward Brando, my legs carrying me with speed and agility. Close enough to touch him, I grabbed him by the wrist, yanking.
He turned so quickly that I almost fell backward. He caught me by the arms, pulling me toward him with enough strength that my face ended up against his chest. His heart pounded loud against my ear. It was as if my panic had somehow reached him and my own heart echoed from his body.
A terrible sensation rippled through me. The horrible feeling of my stomach dipping during an impossibly deep slope made my breath catch. I had him by the shirt, clinging with all my might. I pulled back, looking up at him.
That moment in the snow with my brother came back with an intense sharpness, piercing through the layers I had created to keep the hurt from surfacing.
“You…you can’t go.” I couldn’t get the words out fast enough. “You can’t leave.”
I could see it in his eyes, a deluge of memories rushing forward. Something else was there too…reality.
