When he finally recovers, he looks at me like I’ve lost my damn mind. Then he laughs.
"Rava," he says, wiping his mouth, "I think you walked into the wrong house."
I don’t flinch. "I walked into the right one." The silence that follows isn’t playful at all. He stares at me. Something in his face shifts. The laughter is gone. The room feels different now. He sits there, not saying a word, and I suddenly become very aware of how close I am to him.
"Why do Ihaveto kiss you, Weston?"
I look at the floor. My voice comes out rough. "Because… she flirted withyou."
Gio blinks. I press on, the words tumbling faster now. "She was looking at you like she’d forgotten I even existed." I break off, swallowing. "So since she usedyouto get under my skin," I mutter, staring at the floor, "maybe I can use you to get under hers…"
Oh dear God. If he tells me to get the hell out, I’ll just nod. I’ll nod and walk out and disappear into the mountains forever. Because after that line, I deserve it.
His brow lifts slowly. "So… you’re using me?" There is a pause, a little too long. Then Gio gives a short laugh. "Damn," he says, shaking his head with a crooked grin. "Didn’t think you had it in you, Rava."
I stiffen. "What’s that supposed to mean?"
He shrugs lazily. "I always thought you were the type to take the moral high ground. You know, let her go, be the better man, blah blah. But no. You wanna hit her where it hurts."
He leans in, smirking. "And where it hurts is me, huh?"
I exhale sharply through my nose. "Don’t flatter yourself." "Oh, sweetheart. Too late." He takes a sip of his drink, studying me over the rim. He enjoys this.
"But still," he says, setting the glass down, "asking me to kiss you? That’s wild. I thought you were straight."
I stare at him. "This isn’t about that."
"Oh, I think it’sverymuch about that."
I look away, regretting everything again. "Maybe this was a mistake, I’m sorry, I don’t even know what I’m doing," I mutter.
I stand, ready to leave, but he grabs my wrist before I can go far and pulls me back down.
I sit on the edge of the bed. He doesn’t let go, even when I’m seated. "Why do you want this, really?" he asks again, quieter now. I hesitate.
"Because I don’t want her to think she can win. I don’t want to feel like I’m the one who cared more. She humiliated me, Gio. And you… you could make it look like I’ve already moved on. Like I don’t even see her anymore."
"Well," he says, head tilting, "you’d wish you’d moved on with me. That wouldactuallybe an upgrade."
My jaw drops. I shove him softly.
"It’s fake," I mutter. "And I want it to stay fake."
He doesn’t laugh. Instead, he steps in front of me, and while I’m sitting on his bed, he reaches down and hooks a finger under my chin. He lifts my face toward his, slowly. "First of all," he murmurs, lips curving, "don’t use the word ‘is’ like we’ve already agreed. I don’t remember saying yes."
I swallow hard. He’s right. I swear, the room tightens. His finger is still under my chin, keeping my face tilted up, not letting me look away.
I shut my mouth fast. I don’t trust myself to speak. He moves his tongue slowly across his teeth, exhaling through his nose as he crosses his arms. "So, let me get this straight," he says coldly.
"You want me to risk your dad skinning us alive, or, worse. Throwing me out of the next meeting, blacklisting me, physically torturing me, maybe even having one of his guards kill me, all so you can pretend to be over your ex?"
I don’t say anything. He tilts his head.
"For a kiss that’s meant to belong to a girl who tried to crawl into my lap a few days ago? That’s what we’re doing?"
I look down again. Shit.
"That’s… disgusting," he says. "It’s sick."
