The laugh that came from his throat was raspy. He released me, but I rushed back to his arms not long after, enjoying the closeness. He slept almost all day, and I was right beside him, drifting in and out. While in, I pondered to the point that I’d fall back asleep.
I was still pondering when we decided to finally get up and enjoy midnight on the terrace. The wind swept by in ruffling wisps, stirring the roses and lavender, an undertone of lemon sharp in the air. I inhaled. Lemon and churned earth, a smell that reminded me of gritty worms popping up from their burrows of dirt, fresh water from a stream, and the bottled scent of the hot sun against a citrus tree.
The sky was decorated with stars, blazing hot and so close that I felt that I could reach out and touch one. I studied them for a bit, but then I looked down, catching sight of Brando talking to Romeo. He came to bring Brando his Ducati, a matte black monster on two wheels that I had bought him for his birthday. He had left it at Rocco’s.
Or so Romeo claimed. The real reason for his visit was obvious. He wanted to seeViolaCastellanos.
To watch Brando and Romeo made me smile into my wine glass. I took a sip, allowing the robust red flavor to tangle with my taste buds. I set it back on the stone railing of the terrace, where the liquid glowed like melted rubies in the darkness.
It was clear to see that Rocco held the authority there, and Dario and Romeo did as they were told. Other than that, it didn’t seem like there was much of an issue between Brando and his other two brothers. Though they never tried to challenge him either, and I understood there was a difference.
After meeting them, it came to our attention that the brothers were not that far apart in age. Brando was older than Rocco by mere months. He was born in August, Rocco in November. Dario came next, and then Romeo. Rocco, Dario, and Romeo were around eleven months apart each. Their places in the lineage reflected their personalities, and were probably the source of some of the tension between the two oldest, I thought.
Violet came out of my closet then, wearing one of my more flirty dresses, with a pair of extremely high wedges. She wiggled her fingers at me and then took off for the stairs. Not long after, she made it down to Romeo. Brando handed something to his younger brother and then came back up.
Brando found me leaning over the terrace, eyes on the two chatting and laughing below. He brought up a bowl of grapes, placing it beside me. His hands slid under my silk robe, hot against coolness, barely brushing, until the fine fingers cupped me, resting between cheek and leg.
Taking another long drink of wine, I swallowed and then sighed in pleasure.
“We’re out of whiskey. Not a drop left.”
I laughed so hard that I almost tipped over the terrace. He forced me to face him, setting me on the stone, legs open, him in between. He placed a hand on either side of me, protective, but not overbearing. Regardless, the trust was there. He’d never let me fall.
“You drank all of my whiskey.”
I nodded, grinning. “Who else?”
He cocked an eyebrow at that. “I smelled it on you, when I came back.” He didn’t have to complete the thought.The night I came back and I thought you smelled like him.
His comment made me remember, my curious nature peeking its head out of the hole. “Brando?”
“Yeah, baby.”
I grinned stupidly at the familiar term, my heart softening to mush. He removed a wandering hair out of my eyes, and his face turned serious, probably thinking, like I was.
“I didn’t mean…” I said softly, trailing, because I wasn’t sure how to broach the subject again.
He studied me for a moment, trying to read me. “The comment about two men.” He went to move my hair again, but I caught his hand, bringing it to my heart.
“Any of it. I would never want—” I inhaled and then exhaled with a tickle of wind “—more than you. I don’t come alive until you call for me.”
He nodded. I continued.
“That’s not really what I meant though. Yesterday, at Rocco’s, when I was babbling on, trying to stop you from making a mistake. I didn’t realize what I had done to you. I had been going on and on about secrets, and it wasn’t until the last minute that I said Rocco’s name. There was hesitation when I said it. And that made you think that I was about to admit to you, in front of him, that I loved him, or wanted him, didn’t it?”
He answered with his usual “yeah,” and his voice caught.
That’s why he took his revenge last night. He wanted to scare me senseless because I had done the same thing to him. That scene would always make me think twice.
“You knew that I was following you,” he said.
“Yes. I know you.”
“How to manipulate me, you mean.”
“How to get you to move when you’re being stubborn enough not toseewhat’s right in front of your face.I know you.”
“Ah, well,” he said, his voice gruff, “solo tu.”Only you.His fingertips traced the bruises on my thighs. He wouldn’t come out and say it, but it was there, lingering in his eyes. Regret.
