Still. Seeing Aniello outside of the gates was like watching a storm touch land. It made me anxious, the uncertainty that hovered around him, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. And there was nothing stopping me from staring, since he stood in front of me. No barriers existed between us here.
His hair was slicked to the side, showcasing every strong feature of his face, including those eyes. Which were trained on me. I inhaled, taking a deep breath, and something citrusy touched my lungs. His cologne. It had the same effect as a good drink settling in the pit of my stomach. I leaned against the doorframe a little, tilting like a drunk.
“Rosalia.”
It took me a moment to break eye contact with Aniello. Ben. I’d forgotten he was there. Waiting.
“I won’t keep you any longer,” he said. He held up the ring. “I appreciate this.”
I forced myself to pay attention to him, even though my eyes desperately wanted to move to the man next to him. “I’m glad you came,” I said. “The ring is where it belongs now.”
Despite the threatening man standing next to him, Ben stepped up and took my hand. He placed a soft kiss on my knuckles. “It was a pleasure, Rosalia. Maybe we could have dinner soon?”
I was surprised that he asked. I never got the impression he would, which was why I’d been prepared to do it before Aniello showed up. “That’d be nice.”
“I’ll be in touch soon.” With that promise lingering in the air, he turned and left.
That was a stupid move on his part—to turn his back on the man still standing in the doorway to my condo. It was one of the things I noticed the most working at Club D. Some men didn’t seem to mind, but others seemed to know the cost of having someone walk behind them. How easy it would be to eat a bullet that way. Those were the men smart enough to have trust issues.
Aniello stayed, even after Ben had disappeared. His eyes were on me, but he said nothing. His face showed only indifference, but I couldn’t help but think there was something more going on. It was almost as if words hung between us, but even the words didn’t know how to reach me, for me to make sense of them. Or maybe the sound of my pounding heart drowned them out before they made it to my mind.
Being this close to him, nothing between us but a doorway, made me breathless. Made my heart pump harder and my stomach feel hollow.
His eyes languidly moved from mine to my chest, where my breasts strained against the shirt. It somehow made what was going on inside of me more obvious. I sensed he was imagining the heart beneath the layers, pounding against bone, and the pulse in my neck matching the rhythm the frantic organ set.
He knew it was because of him.
My body had a strong reaction to him, despite who he was and who I was.
Attraction could never be controlled. Like jealousy.
It could have been seconds, minutes, hours that our eyes held. A wordless contact that held a different feeling than any of our interaction at Club D ever had. Then, as if he’d ripped his hand away from mine right before we touched, he looked behind me, fixing Cilla with a look.
She wilted underneath his stare. I stepped in front of her, refusing to allow him to intimidate her that way. Even though I knew her father was probably doing what he had to do to keep her safe, she was still a kid who was in love. It was going to take her time to move on.
His eyes met mine again, but in the coldest way possible. I opened my eyes a little wider, refusing to let the sharpness of his penetrating glare get the best of me. He stepped back after a minute, but not because I’d won anything. The phone in his pocket made a vibrating noise, and he suddenly seemed ready to leave. Maybe because he knew that no matter what, his word was law, and what he said went. It didn’t matter who liked it or not. There would be consequences if he showed up again. That was clear, even if the words never left his mouth.
As he started to walk away, I stood in the doorway, determined to watch him go. Halfway down the hall, he stopped, his back to me. “Rosalia,” he said, his tongue rolling over my name as if it was meant to be spoken from his mouth only.
Maybe it was pure insanity, but I realized then why I wasn’t sure if I liked the way Ben had said my name or not. Because compared to how Aniello said it, it would have been a sin to enjoy the way Ben had said it. I’d never heard anyone say my name that way. Like he was the creator of it, and my name belonged to him alone.
He left after that one word slipped from his lips. But I still waited at the door, even after he’d gone, thinking there had to be more.
More of whatever that was.
More to him.
More to this life.
More to come after he said my name like he had.
There was no more after he left, though.
Cilla shut the door after however long, realizing that I wasn’t strong enough to do it. To shut out all that he’d made me feel and the confusion and uncertainty that always came with it.
* * *
Cilla had beenin her room with the door shut ever since Aniello had left.
