Laughing, I lifted a shoulder. “One, in junior year. And then he came out as gay a year later, so I’ve got a pretty terrible track record.”
His eyes slowly roved over my face, as if he were memorizing every feature.
“And you?”
He exhaled a short breath. “I was diagnosed with dyslexia and developmental language disorder as a kid. That made it hard to learn or do well in school, and kids made fun of me for being dumb—”
“That doesn’t mean you’re dumb,” I interjected. “It just means you need to learn differently from everyone else.”
He grinned. “That’s true. Michael was the first person who understood that about me. He made sure I had private tutors and urged me to go to college. He gave me a choice once I graduated, and I chose to join his organization. It was important for me to support him as he’d supported me.”
“That makes sense. You chose this life while I desperately want to get away from it.”
“I get why,” he said with a nod. “It’s a tough life filled with danger. I hope I can protect you long enough that you can eventually live the life you want.”
Tears stung my eyes at the poignant sentiment. “Thank you,” I whispered. “You’re really not a jerk at all, are you? I wanted so badly to hate you.”
“I have my moments,” he muttered, flashing a grin. “Well, it looks like the footage is clear. We’ll monitor it again tomorrow.”
Rising, he stretched his arms above his head. “I’m going to work out. Want to join me?”
“Thanks, but I’d rather swallow a live snake,” I said, batting my eyelashes. “I’m just not an exerciser. Mom runs every day, bless herheart. I’m going to pull up the East Coast port logs. There’s some strange activity in the Miami area. Any idea why?”
Frowning, he nodded. “John reached out to Marco Nunez. It’s possible they’re forming an alliance, but Marco is dodgy. Be careful, Alexis. I don’t want you implicated in anything they’re doing.”
“Super-awesome hacker, remember?” I said, pointing to myself. “I’ve got this.”
His gaze was wary. “Okay. See you in an hour.”
He disappeared to his bedroom and I pulled up the port logs, searching for patterns. I’d heard rumblings of Marco Nunez, a narco-terrorist who profited from trafficking girls and drugs through his cartel. Stories of torture and murder about him were rampant, and it seemed he had loyalty to no one. My father had been heartless, but even he had retained some loyalty to his capos.
Shivering at the thought of Marco Nunez infiltrating the Northeast or Mid-Atlantic corridors, I combed through the port logs, determined to do some small part to help prevent that at all costs. If I discovered anything suspicious, I would make sure the information got to Leo Stabler, an FBI agent who’d worked with my father, and who also worked with Michael.
Now that Mom was married to Michael, she would become a top target for Nunez if he began operations on Michael’s turf.
Determined to prevent that, I dove into the logs and got to work.
Later that evening, after a low-key pasta dinner with Nick, I worked on my laptop a bit more before closing it and yawning. Glancing at my phone, I realized how late it was. Walking down the hallway, I noticed that Nick’s door was slightly open.
“You still awake?” I asked, knocking.
“Yeah.”
Pushing open the door, I almost swallowed my tongue. Nick sat on the bed, covers up to his waist below his bare chest as the lamp shone on the nightstand. He was reading a book and glasses sat perched on his angular nose.
My heart rocketed down to my knees, causing them to buckle as I took in the scene. Holy hell, the glasses were so fucking sexy. Images of him looming above me as he wore them—and only them—caused my breath to catch in my throat.
“I like to read every night,” he said, looking up at me as he held the book. “Helps with my dyslexia. Keeps the mind fresh.” He tapped his temple.
“Uh, yeah.” Wiping my damp palms on my thighs, I grinned. “The glasses are cute.”
“Oh,” he said, taking them off. “Yeah, they’re for reading. That happens when you get old.”
I breathed a laugh. “You’re not old.”
His eyebrow arched, so sexy above his bare chest that I felt my pulse literally pounding in my neck. “Much older than you.”
“Okay, old man. I just wanted to tell you that I found some weird stuff again at the Miami ports today. I logged it and I think you should send it to Michael.”
