“You didn’t believe me?”
“Lots of people say they’re going to leave their boyfriend or girlfriend. That doesn’t mean they actually will,” he pointed out. Once, at a job already half-forgotten, he’d had a desk near the water cooler. He overheard everything. Drama, intrigue, despair. A hundred colleagues all swore they’d leave their spouse or partner, and only one or two really followed through. The rest, as far as he could tell, were only venting, determined to stay miserable, trapped in the same patterns day after day.
“I get it,” Carla huffed against his shoulder. “You don’t wanna wrangle with a mobster.”
Jack’s lips twitched with barely repressed laughter. “What gave you that idea?”
“You can hardly stand to be in this house, Jack. You act like someone’s gonna stick the barrel of a gun through a hole in the wall and shoot you.”
He frowned, rubbed a hand down her back in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. “Yeah, I—the whole thing makes me uncomfortable. But I keep coming back every day, don’t I?”
“Yeah, because I’m the only person you can talk to.”
“That’s not true,” Jack scoffed. “Ilikeyou. I mean, yeah, you’re right—I want out of this and you’re the only person who can help, but Ilikeyou. I’m not going to leave you alone.”
“You like me?” Carla drew back to blink at him, mascara running down her face in great, black streaks.
A little laugh escaped him. “Yeah, of course I do. What’s not to like?”
“I dunno, Jack. Probably a lot.”
Alright, yeah, she could be a lot to handle. Brazen, sharp-witted, a constant whirlwind of motion and ideas. But she was also kind in her own way, and eager and dynamic, and it would lie for Jack to think he could ever get enough of her. That some part of him wasn’t completely enamored by her wide eyes and sly grin. “Whoever told you that you weren’t likable was lying.”
“Argh.” Carla flopped back against the arm of the couch. “Like my sister?”
“Yeah,” said Jack, nodding. “If she said that, she’s wrong.”
She perked up at that. “But youdolike me.”
“Yeah,” said Jack slowly. Had they just found the heart of the issue? Should he draw back, away from Carla and her wild eyes, her wild life only just hidden by a veil of finery and wealth? If he stuck around, so many things could go wrong. She could change her mind. He could find himself on the wrong side of the mafia. She might not be able to leave Ronnie, even if she wanted to.
But his gaze was drawn to her mouth, full and plush, tempting even amidst her tears.
It wasn’t the right thing to do. But nothing about this was right. Hadn’t been for over a month now.
And if they did something they regretted, well, would it even matter tomorrow?
He moved toward her, until they were mere inches apart. Carla’s breath hitched, and Jack started to draw back, but she caught him by the lapel, lacquered nails glinting in the dim light. “If you were about to do what I think you were,” she said, staring at him with an intensity feverish enough to catch them both on fire, “then don’t you dare stop.”
So he lunged forward, caught her mouth against his, tasted the salt of her tears and the faint traces of her berry lipstick. Her lips parted. Their tongues clashed. The hand clutching his lapel dragged him closer until they were flush against each other, chests heaving, hands roaming amidst fabric and skin.
When they parted for breath, she smirked at him, traced her fingers down his chest. Heat shot to his core. He caught her hand in his, stilling its path, torn between desire and regret. “Iknewyou liked me more than you wanted to admit,” she said, and the corners of her mouth tilted upward.
“Yeah,” Jack said, astonished at the wave of affection that rolled through him. “You’re right. I do.”
“What took you so long?”
Jack hummed. “I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea.”
She frowned. Reached to wipe the mascara from her cheeks. “Why not?”
“Because…” Jack groaned. “All the reasons we just talked about. And I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to.”
“Yeah.” She rolled her eyes. “You need a lot of direction. I’ve noticed.”
“I’m trying to be respectful,” Jack protested.
She grinned back at him. “Oh, I know what you’re trying to do. And I’m trying to tell you that it’s gonna be OK.” Her hand caught in his hair, tugged lightly.
