He throws his head back and laughs, drawing Lucy’s attention. She quickly looks away when she notices me looking. “I think you’re my new best friend.”
“I’m telling Circus you said that.”
“Fuck him, he pointed out a gray hair this morning.”
“What? Where?”
He leans forward and points to the front of his head. I spot the strand he’s talking about. Before he can say anything, I snag it between two fingers and yank it out.
“There, problem solved.”
“Ouch.”
“Beauty is pain, Capone.” I wink as Lucy places our drinks in front of us. “I’ll be right back with your food,” she mumbles before hurrying away.
He sighs. “I don’t think I’m her type.”
“You look like the love child of Jamie Dornan and Charlie Hunnam. You’re everyone’s type.”
“I’m telling Ambros you said that.”
I flip him off and ignore his chuckles as Lucy places our plates down in front of us.
“You guys need anything else?”
“Just your number.” Capone throws out as Lucy chuckles awkwardly and hurries away.
“See? I repel her.”
“You make her nervous, that’s all. Stop overthinking things and eat. How is it I have more game than you, and I spent over a decade in captivity?”
“Have you looked in a mirror lately?”
“No. That’s what I have Nevaeh for.”
“I don’t know how Ambros puts up with you.”
“And yet you want what we have?”
“Yeah, I really do.”
I grin before taking a bite of my sandwich. “So, how come you’re so good at science?”
“I have a PhD in physics.” Well damn. I take another bite so I can chew while I think about what to say next. “So construction is your thing, how did you end up with a PHD in something else?”
“My stupid sense of loyalty.” He sighs and leans back, wiping his fingers on his napkin. “My parents had me late in life. My mom was in her late forties, my dad in his late fifties. He was a professor at Harvard, and growing up, I wanted to be just like him so I followed in his footsteps, trying to make him proud. He died a week after I graduated, but before he died he told me to quit living my life for him and to start living it for myself or I’d end up miserable.”
“I get it. When I was little, my mom used to show my sister and me photos of her dancing as Odette in Swan Lake. Sheattended the Joffrey Ballet School, but a year in, she suffered a career-ending injury.
“She went back home to her parents, which is where she met my dad. She said she fell in love with him and forgot all about ballet, realizing god chose a different path for her. But the way she looked at those photos with such sadness, I know it was a lie she told herself so she could move on. Anyway, I wanted to be a ballerina. I loved pink and tutus, so it was the perfect profession for the little girly-girl I was. And I liked the idea of doing it for both me and my mom. I really wanted to make her proud. And then Jasper came along and I stopped dreaming altogether.” I shrug, taking my last bite, embarrassed I let that last part slip out.
“Nothing stopping you from putting on a pink tutu and dancing around the gym. Who cares what anyone thinks? This is your life, Citi, you make the rules.”
I smirk. “I might just do that,” I joke, making him wink.
“And for what it’s worth, Citi, I think your mom is beyond proud of you. I know I am.”
I dip my head, feeling myself blush. “Thanks, Capone. You’re sweet.”
