He doesn’t move.
“Didn’t think you’d show,” he says, eyes scanning my face. “Figured the sea swallowed you.” His lips curl, but I don’t look away, not even when he drags on his cigarette.
“Disappointed?”
“Not the word I’d use.” I feel it again, that twist in my gut. That pull, that heat, and I hate it.
I shift my weight, trying to step around him, but he mirrors me.
“You always run?” he asks.
“I’m not running,” I snap at him, which only makes him smile again.
“You’re wearing a ring that says otherwise.” His eyes drop to the ring, a symbol, a sentence.
“Watch yourself,” I say. “Some of us bite.”
He steps closer. I don’t move; I won’t. Even though every inch of me wants to bolt, breathe and scream.
“Good,” he murmurs. “I like teeth.” The air between us tightens. Hate. Heat. Something dark and tempting.
“You’re the enemy,” I say flatly. He must know that, he must know our families despise each other.
Is this a game?
“And you’re pretending that still matters.” My hand curls into a fist at my side.
“It does,” I whisper.
He leans in, not touching, not quite. Just close enough to let his breath ghost across my cheek.
“Then why aren’t you walking away?” he asks.
I take a step back, finally. “Because I know better,” I say. What the fuck does that mean? I should walk away, but for some reason I can’t move.
“Do you?”
I don’t answer. I can’t. I turn and walk, every step feeling heavier than the last.
He doesn’t follow, but I can still feel his eyes burning into me.
“Then why aren’t you walking away?”
I grip the stairwell as I descend. He’s a Messina. I’m an O’Brien. That should be enough.
But it isn’t.
“Hey.” Nora’s voice finds me halfway down the stairs. She jogs to catch up, sharp eyes locking on mine. She saw. I know she did. “You okay?” she asks, but it’s not soft. It’s edged with suspicion.
“I’m fine,” I lie. I can’t tell her the truth.
“That was Matteo Messina, wasn’t it?” I stop walking. She crosses her arms. “What the hell was that, Aoife?”
I turn toward her, jaw clenched. “It was nothing.”
“Didn’t look like anything,” she points out, but I’m sure everyone in this place knows what my Uncle did to his family, so everyone will know there is no kindness there for me.
“It doesn’t matter.”
