"Good." He leans in to kiss me, his lips twitching, then says, "Let's go."
He gets out, opens my door, takes my hand, and leads me up the driveway.
I try not to think about Finn sharpening steak knives.
Brax knocks and tugs me into his waist. Within seconds, the door swings open.
Brenna greets us in fitted black jeans and a cream sweater. She offers me a cautious smile. Her voice is warm, but measured. "You must be Valentina."
I straighten, returning her same expression. "I am."
"I'm Brenna." She steps aside. "Come in. Dinner's almost ready."
Brax's hand finds the small of my back, guiding me forward.
Finn stands in the living room with his arms crossed over his chest, shoulders stiff, jaw clenched. His eyes track every inch of me in one sharp sweep. It's just as calculating, guarded, and suspicious as it was in Brax's apartment.
A chill runs down my spine.
He hates me.
"Finn," Brax greets.
"Brax." Finn nods once toward me. "Valentina."
"Nice to see you again, Finn," I respond, steady even though my stomach twists.
He doesn't smile or scowl. His eyes continue to watch me.
Brenna announces, "I'm ready for a drink. Valentina, do you drink wine?"
"Am I Italian?"
She laughs. "Red good?"
"Please."
"Good. If you didn't like red wine, I'd have to question everything."
I smile, appreciating the effort she's making. I add, "You have a lovely home."
Her eyes dart around the gray-colored walls. "Thanks. I've been thinking of giving it a facelift."
"Really? It's so nice," I genuinely state.
"It's been like this for a while. I kind of want a color change." She turns her attention to Finn.
He doesn't move.
"Finn, go pour some whiskey for you and Brax," she instructs.
He tears his stare off me for a moment.
She tosses him a warning look.
He caves and walks toward the bar.
She grabs a bottle of wine out of the fridge and opens it. She fills two glasses and hands me one.
