It was the smart choice, but I wasn't ready for him to leave. Then again, I was certainly not ready for anything more.
“Good night, Noah.”
“Good night, Sailor.” With one last chaste kiss on my mouth, he left.
I went inside, feeling foreign in my skin. Was I actually falling for him, or was I creating a scenario in my head about the first and only man to show me kindness? Did I still need tocry, or were those emotions different now? I wasn't disappointed in the outcome of our date, but in myself. I’d tripped over my tongue, said everything wrong, and nearly drove him away.
As I got ready for bed, I looked down as a text came through. It was a confirmation for the new security system that would arrive in the next few days, and an invitation for the tech to install it at my convenience. Apparently, I’d have to get used to Noah casually spending money on me if he and I were to be together.
I’d been independent for most of my life. Relying on other people had continuously backfired, especially when I lived in foster care. Those experiences had given me no choice but to rely on myself, and after I became a doctor, I made enough money to never depend on the government again. Year after year, I strived to continue furthering my knowledge so that raises were never a question but a guarantee. I was scrupulous to a fault, ensuring my evaluations were consistently positive.
Well, with the exception of playing well with others. Unsurprisingly, I fell short in that category every year.
With my toothbrush in hand, I stared at my reflection. I was a traitor, either to the Costa men who claimed to care about me, or to the feds I’d agreed to work with. Or, the third and worst choice; I was a traitor to my parents’ memory. Reneging on my deal would close their case forever, and they’d never get justice.
Maybe it was time to believe Agent Lauder when she said they weren't intended to be targets and accept that it was just an awful accident. Wrong place at the wrong time and all that. Dark tint and poorly lit roads contributed to that theory. They were good people, so no one would even consider going after them.
My heart ached at the thought of giving up on Noah, but it burned a hole in my gut to consider giving up on my parents.
Chapter Sixteen
Noah
I no longer knew if my feelings were my own or if they were influenced by my father’s ultimatum. Sailor was enjoyable to talk to, if for no other reason than she had brains in her head. Unlike the usual suspects I went out with, she was brilliant and witty. When she let her guard down, she even made me laugh.
Of course, we mostly had our walls up around each other, making conversation awkward at times. The idea that she’d never been on a date and was therefore most likely a virgin intrigued me. There was always the possibility that she dabbled in one-night stands, but I couldn't picture it.
I’d never been with a virgin. My father followed the old mafia tradition of bringing in a group of women—who he shied away from calling hookers—to help me ‘become a man’ on my sixteenth birthday. At the time, I thought it was the best thing in the entire fucking universe. What teenage boy wouldn't want to participate in an orgy with gorgeous, experienced women? Twenty years later, I found it to be a disgusting ritual I would never push onto a child of mine.
Over the years, I’d been with women from other mafia families, or occasionally with a relative of one of our soldiers who was positive she’d become the next Mrs. Costa. More than once, I’d discovered a few of them thought they could use me to get to Dad. Even when Mom was alive, they thought they couldingratiate themselves into thegoomahtitle if they got close enough to him. More than once, I kicked a woman out on her ass when I brought her to the house and she started flirting with my father right in front of me.
I hadn't been looking for long-term companionship with any of them. I hadn't been thinking of making a marriage between families, not until I found an ounce of the type of love my parents had for each other. And, yes, Dad was right when he said Mom’s passing had put the brakes on dating or thinking of the future. But I hadn't tried to find anyone after healing, either. Not with the idea that anyone I associated with could become collateral damage just like she had.
As I thought about texting Sailor to see how she was doing, I couldn't help but wonder if my burgeoning feelings were overshadowed by the stopwatch looming over my head. I had to make her fall for me, or find myself forced into marriage with a rival’s daughter, niece, or granddaughter. The very idea made me ill.
Frankly, both choices made me ill. The lesser of two evils for me was Sailor, but to exploit her need for love and affection made me want to punch something.
Preferably, my old man’s face.
“Leonardo Russo wants a sit-down,” Dad announced as he came into my room without knocking.
“Good for him,” I responded without looking up from my computer.
“Says he’s willing to come here.”
That got my attention. “Why?”
“He has news he wants to share, since we’re all peaceful and shit.”
“Is that what we’re calling it?” I asked, leaning back in my chair.
Dad shrugged. “If he’s willing to come to the lion’s den, then he must be serious.”
“It’s not quite a lion’s den when we’re in a public location,” I reminded him. “But I’ll get Roman and John down here to sit with you.”
“Us.”
I frowned. “Pardon?”
