“I—” I hesitate, heat creeping up my neck. “I just didn’t think you’d want me sitting next to you after… well?—”
He cuts me off. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it. Comehere and sit down.”
I don’t move. My gaze drops to the floor, my nerves locking me in place.
He sets his beer aside and stands, his expression tightening with something dangerously close to frustration. He reaches for my hand and pulls me up, then guides me over with him as he drops back onto the couch. I land against him, settled firmly on his lap before I can protest.
The closeness is overwhelming. It’s too much and not enough all at once. His arm slides around my waist, steady and possessive, holding me there so I can’t move even if I want to.
My breath stutters.
“You see,” he murmurs quietly in my ear, his voice low and steady, “I’m not a fan when people don’t listen to me, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart.
The word sends a shiver down my spine. I swallow, my breath catching.
“Are you scared of me right now?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“Good,” he says. “You shouldn’t be. I’m here to watch over you—to protect you.”
His arm loosens around my waist, giving me space. I take the opportunity, shifting away and settling onto the couch beside him instead. My heart is still racing, but I need the distance, even if only a little.
We sit quietly, sipping our beers and watching a college basketball game. The tension lingers between us, thick enough that I know I need to break it—especially since I’m the one who created it.
“So,” I say lightly, glancing his way, “since you seem to know so much about me… tell me about you. Considering, you know, like you said, I’m kind of stuck with you.”
“I didn’t say that,” he snickers. “What do you want to know?”
“I don’t know,” I shrug. “Maybe how you and Gino became friends. Where you went to school. That feels like a good place to start.”
“Well, Gino and I became friends when we were toddlers. Back when your dad was gone,” he says. “Not gone but with you. You know what I mean.” A small smile tugs at his mouth. “We did everything together. Baseball, basketball, soccer. He’s two years older than me, but we still did everything together. We grew up like brothers.”
He pauses, then continues more quietly. “When your dad came back after your mother died, he realized how close we were. My parents kind of became second parents to him.”
I guess Gino and I have that in common, dad putting us on someone else’s plate to raise.
“I went to college and then law school in New York,” he adds.
“I’m guessing Ivy League?” I tease. “Clearly you’re a genius.”
He snorts. “Eh, not really. I just worked my ass off. I was never the partying type, and I’m still not. I stayed focused.” He shrugs. “I knew from a pretty young age I was going to be a lawyer and work with Gino.”
“Sounds like you’ve had everything figured out for a long time,” I say. “I wish I could do that.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” I ask, immediately regretting the words.Shit. What did I say?
“That thing where you talk like you’re somehow less than me,” he says. “Vanessa, you’re smart. You know what you want.” His gaze holds mine. “That’s… really attractive.”
“Uh—what?” I blink.
“I’m just saying,” he adds quickly, “don’t underestimate yourself.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
