For one fleeting moment, I think maybe I’ll get out of dancing entirely, and then Nonna locks her gaze on me, clapping her hands together.
“Oh, good, just in time.” She glances over my head. “You two together.”
I turn around, startling when I see Romeo standing behind me. I didn’t even hear him approach.
Since the shower incident, he’s changed into a black button-up dress shirt, slacks, and his combat boots. This is what I’d refer to as his hitman casual style—slightly more polished than usual, but still rough around the edges.
He’s wearing his signature silver chain around his neck, and two square rings that spell out Vita Mors.Life and death.There’s so much ink on display with his shirt sleeves rolled up and the top two buttons undone, it almost feels indecent. It would be tempting to peel open every last one of those buttons and map each line with my fingers, if I were a complete masochist.
I’m trying to think of an excuse not to dance with him, but when his gaze moves over my face, lingering on my red eyes, I get distracted. He looks tense, and I hope to God that isn’t pity on his face. I think that would be even worse than his anger.
“Sure, I get stuck with half-pint.” A hint of a smile ghosts over his lips, and it catches me off guard. He never smiles at me.
“I’m fine to just stand and watch,” I say awkwardly.
“Oh, come on, Gabi. I can’t be as bad as Riccardo. Besides, you said you didn’t want to fight anymore.” He reaches out and takes my hand in his, sending a shock of heat through me as he whispers in my ear. “So let’s kiss and make up.”
A shiver moves through me, and I know he must have felt it. The way my body betrays me whenever he’s around is inconvenient and annoying.
“What are you doing?” I glare up at him as he smoothly leads me into a waltz, acting like he’s some kind of gentleman.
“This is called a waltz,” he says sardonically. “It’s a basic?—”
“I know what a waltz is,” I grumble. “Since when do you participate in group activities?”
He shrugs. “I’m feeling less homicidal today. Might as well socialize.”
“Is this some kind of twisted new game of yours?” I ask. “Is that it?”
“Not everything is a game,” he murmurs. “Unless you want it to be. How about we stare at each other and see who breaks first.”
“I’m not playing a game with you,” I argue. But he ignores me, staring at me like a serial killer until I have no choice but to stare back.
It’s an awkwardly long period of eye contact, and if it were anyone else, I would have definitely looked away by now. But I really want to win this stupid game. Except the longer I stare, the more the ridiculousness of it gets to me. I feel myself cracking, my lip twitching as he arches a brow at me. And then, before I can stop it, I smile against my will.
“Well, that was easy.” Romeo smirks.
“You only won that one because you’re a robot.”
“Fine. Let’s play another one,” he suggests. “Guess what I’m thinking right now.”
“As if you’d even tell me if I got it right.”
“I’ll be honest…if you get it right. Doubt you will, though.”
He’s goading me, and I don’t know why I’m playing into it, but I guess it’s a good distraction for how close we are right now.
“Okay. You’re thinking of fifty different ways to murder someone.”
“So close, but no.”
“You’re thinking about how you can’t wait for this dance practice to be over.”
“Me? I could do this all night.”
“Okay, then you’re thinking about going back to your room so you can watch cam girls or whatever it is you do in there all the time.”
“Thinking about what I do with my cock, Gabriela?” His voice dips.
