Curiosity gets the better of me. “What happened?” I ask.
“The contract just got signed for the building,” he says. “The last-minute deal was apparently crap.”
“That’s great,” I say. I have no real understanding of how property deals work, so I assume it means the other offer wasn’t serious. Still, an uneasy thought creeps in, something I hope isn’t true, that something else might have been done to make sure the deal went through.
“What?” he asks.
Great. He senses it.
“Nothing.”
“Hey.” He reaches out and tilts my chin up so I have to look at him. His touch is soft, cool—nothing like the roughness I expect. “Not everything we do ends withsomeone getting shot or beaten,” he says quietly. “You know that, right?”
“Okay,” I say, breathlessly.
He doesn’t let go of my chin. Instead, he keeps my gaze locked on his. The buzzer on the TV sounds, the crowd erupts. Judging by the noise, either a buzzer-beater just happened or there’s been a huge upset. I start to turn my head to see what happened.
A gentle tug stops me.
My chin lifts again, guiding my attention back to him. He’s closer now. Close enough that I can feel his breath against my skin. His eyes flick from mine to my lips, then back again. My breath catches for a heartbeat.
Then his lips meet mine.
The kiss is soft and warm, nothing rushed, nothing rough. I’ve kissed before, but this feels different. It feels forbidden. Before I can pull away, his hands move to my neck and the kiss deepens, still controlled but unmistakably intense.
My fingers curl into his T-shirt, drawing him closer without thinking. The kiss grows slower, stronger, more consuming, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I know this might be the point of no return.
After what feels like hours—but is probably only a minute—we finally break apart. We’re both breathing a little heavier than before. I look at him, my pulse still racing, and to ease the tension, I let out a soft laugh.
“Gino is going to be so pissed we just kissed.”
“If I remember correctly,” he says, smiling, “I’m the one who kissed you. So, I’ll probably take the brunt of whatever anger he has.”
He laughs, low and rough, and the sound sends warmth straight through me. His hands stay at my neck, steady and warm, before his gaze drops briefly, thoughtfully—like he’s weighing something he hasn’t decided yet.
I’m pretty sure he’s wondering whether crossing any morelines with his best friend’s sister, the one he barely knows, is worth what it might cost.
I make the decision for both of us. I pull my hands away from his shirt, and after a beat, he removes his hands from my neck. I turn back toward the TV, putting distance between us before I lose my nerve.
“Would you like a beer?” I ask, keeping my voice steady.
“Sure.” There’s a pause. “Be honest—you hated that, didn’t you?”
I don’t answer. Instead, I head for the kitchen, avoiding his gaze as I grab two beers from the fridge and twist both caps off. When I turn back toward the living room, he’s standing there, blocking my path.
“I asked you a question, Vanessa.”
I look up at him, my pulse thudding. “I– I–”
“I don’t like it when people don’t answer me.” His voice drops, low and firm, not raised but unmistakably intimidating. “Answer the question.”
“No,” I say after a breath. “I liked it. I just didn’t want you to think less of me, or have it come between you and Gino.”
“For one,” he says, “I don’t think you’re easy at all. Not even close. And Gino isn’t going to kill me over kissing you.” A corner of his mouth lifts. “Trust me—he’d probably rather you are kissing me than anyone else.”
It looks like he’s about to say more, but instead he closes his mouth and walks back to the couch, taking a long sip of his beer. I follow a moment later, but this time I choose the chair instead.
He glances over at me. “Why are you sitting all the way over there? I think we’ve established I don’t bite.”
