Scarlett nudged me, the tail end of a gummy worm hanging out of her mouth. I lifted up, claiming it, and her breath caught, wide eyes finding mine. I grinned at her reaction. She elbowed me, hard, for teasing her.
Placing the popcorn down on the floor, she settled in next to me, wiggling under the covers, being combative when I stuck my hands down her pants, fondling her ass cheeks. She smelled so damn sweet. The subtle scent of candied roses wafted off of her.
“I’mgoing to sit next to Guido if you don’t stop!” she hissed.
“Not a chance in hell.” I stopped though; she looked too comfortable. “This is the next ballet for you?”
“Yes,” she breathed, watching the movie, rapt.
“I like it,” I said. “You’ll be the perfect Belle.”
Movie night seemed to relax the tension, or at least make it bearable. In between movies, we voted on which movie to watch next, though Mary seemed to have a handle on the decisions. WhenPeter Panbegan to play, the look on Mitch’s face was indescribable—he stared at Violet, who refused to look back.
In the middle ofThe Little Mermaid, when the crab sang about kissing the girl, Peter, Paul, and Livio whispered. Paul and Livio taunted Peter in hushed tones.
The boy popped up, sandy blonde hair sticking up from static cling. With his shoulders set, he turned around, waded through the crowd of bodies, his brother and the man-child on the floor sitting up to watch, and stopped when he was directly in front of Scarlett.
“Peter?” She rose to see him better. “Is everything—”
While her mouth was open, he closed his eyes, leaned in quickly, and kissed her. The smack of it resounded around the room, even over the music. Every head turned to see Peter’s lips pressed against Scarlett’s. She was frozen, eyes wide with shock.
Mitch and Mick hit each other, both attempting to hide their grins. Violet’s mouth sprang open before she found the mind to close it.
Peter backed up—eyes still closed, lips still ready to smooch—as slow as a meandering cloud. When he opened his eyes, he didn’t look at Scarlett. He looked at me. Whatever he saw on my face made him inhale sharply, and he took off, almost falling over Rosaria and Rocco as he tore out of the room.
“I—” Scarlett was at a loss for words.
Mitch went to get up, to go after him, but I told him to stand down. I slid from behind Scarlett, sidestepping bodies, and found the boy in the kitchen. His back was to me, staring into a utensil drawer. It slammed shut when he must’ve heard me approaching. My skin contracted at the harsh sound.
“Tell me what’s so interesting in there,” I said.
“N-nothing,” he stammered. I heard the intake of breath. It left him in a whoosh. He turned to me, abrupt and determined. “Go ahead. Take it.” Shutting his eyes tight, pinching his lips, he puffed out his chest.
I hid my grin. “Remind me. What am I taking again?”
His lips relaxed. “My heart. Of course!”
“Of course,” I muttered, rubbing my bottom lip.What the hell is this kid thinking?
“I—I just have one question before you take it.” His bottom lip trembled. “What are you going to do with it after?”
“Your heart, you mean.”
“Yeah. I only have the one.”
“True,” I said, trying to be as serious as possible. “You tell me what I should do with it. A man makes his own rules.”
“Give it to Aunt Scarlett. I—I like her.”
“I can tell.” This time I allowed the grin. But since he kept his eyes pinched, he couldn’t see. I let him stay that way for a few moments before I told him to look at me.
His eyes sprung open like he had been electrocuted.
“That was a brave thing you did, Peter. Kissing Scarlett. She’s not your ordinary woman.”
He gazed at me for a few seconds and then blinked. “What?”
“Yeah,” I said, bending down so we were eye to eye. “Brave.”
