She sucked her teeth, looking at Enzo with exasperation. “Then look elsewhere, sweet boy. Before it’s too late.”
“Mama,” Enzo admonished.
Seven’s mouth went dry as Enzo’s hand slipped beneath the back of his sweater, his wicked fingers teasing across the waistband of his pants. “Ignore her. She has no room to talkabout age. My father was fourteen years older than her and my stepfather is ten years younger. She’s just trying to get a rise out of me.”
His mother scoffed, dropping her hands. “Lies,” she said to Seven. “I’m trying to save you from my son and his deviant lifestyle. He collects expensive toys that are way out of his price range and then he breaks them. He’s never appreciated what he’s been given, even when he’s clearly unworthy.”
Seven’s eyes went wide, and something curdled in his stomach. How many other boys had Enzo brought here to parade in front of his mother? Was it only boys? Did he get some kind of kick out of it? Was he trying to embarrass Seven? Did she know they’d slept together? Why did it feel like he’d been kicked in the chest?
“Mama,” Enzo said again, this time with a sharp tinge of warning in his voice.
She just laughed like she was happy to have gotten under his skin, then slapped him on the side of his face with just enough force to not be a caress. She then turned her attention back to Seven, narrowing her gaze, slipping her glasses on and off again. “You know this, though, don’t you,bellino?”
Seven’s gaze darted to Enzo, then to his mother once more. “I’m learning quickly.”
“Mm,” she said, mouth flat as she gave her son a withering look. “You seem like a smart boy. Run while you can.”
Enzo gave his mother a brilliant smile that she did not return, then said, “I swear, I’m innocent,” he lied. “I thought he might be looking for a…mentor. I invited him to lunch to, uh…hammer out the details.” Enzo cleared his throat. “I thought it would be a good idea to let you know he’s going to be around more often.”
Seven’s head jerked towards him, eyes going wide. When he looked back at Mama, she seemed equally caught off guard by his statement.
“Is that so?” she asked, studying her son carefully. “Well, in that case, I look forward to seeing you more often,bellino.”
Enzo shrugged, fingers caressing up Seven’s spine in a way that made him want to squirm. “That depends on how lunch goes.”
She gave her son another hard stare. “Well, then. Have fun hammering out your…details.” Before they could leave, she grasped Seven’s face once more, eyeing him critically. “You should be careful,” she warned her son. “I might just make you keep this one. Imagine my beautiful grandbabies.”
Enzo snorted. “I’m not sure my keeping him would ensure you get grandchildren with his DNA, Mama.”
“That’s why I should set him up with one of your sisters,” she said casually, waving her hand.
This time, it was Enzo who seemed irritated. “Let’s go before my mother tries to call your mother to arrange a marriage.”
“Call me on your way home from work. I have some questions only you can answer,” she said, then turned sharply, dress twirling around her ankles as she returned to her desk.
Seven allowed Enzo to walk him back into the dining room on auto-pilot, weaving them through tables to a large decorative partition. He pushed on the seam and it opened, revealing a whole other dining room—this one much cozier with several small private rooms. He let Seven enter first, then caught the eye of one of the servers before closing the partition again, instantly dulling the din of the customers.
Seven breathed a sigh of relief. All that noise had ratcheted his nerves to about a hundred. He allowed Enzo to guide him to a table in the back, then sat across from him.
Once they were seated, Seven immediately asked, “Why am I really here?”
“I told you, I have a proposal for you,” Enzo said vaguely.
Seven rolled his eyes. “What does that mean, exactly? Can you just speak plainly?”
Enzo leaned back in his seat. Seven watched the buttons strain across his powerful chest, unable to stop himself from licking his bottom lip when the older man steepled his tattooed fingers on the table. He was having a hard time believing this man and the man he’d been with that night were the same.
Enzo at work had been so stern and gruff. But the Enzo he’d slept with had been nothing like that. He’d been direct, he’d been rough, but he’d also been attentive and patient. He’d taken care of him, before, during, and after.
This Enzo across from him was like some hybrid of the two, sliding back and forth between dickhead defense attorney and dominant Daddy. It was making Seven dizzy. He wasn’t emotionally stable for this. But whose fault was that? He could have called Enzo at any time, but had saved it until yet another fight with his actual father.
“We only have about an hour before I have to get back to work,” Enzo said, pulling Seven from his thoughts. “Let’s talk. Okay?”
Yes.
No.
Fuck.
