“Did you look?” I glance around for a computer. A laptop. A whole-ass desk I’ve somehow ignored this whole time. “Do you know what’s on it?”
“No.” She wraps the USB in her palm and studies me with beautiful, speckled hazel eyes. “I considered it for a second. But he’s my brother, ya know? And he was away a lot. He wasn’t tapping away at a computer often enough to make me think he’s written the next great American novel. So that means it could be pictures of…” She wrinkles her lips. “It’s probably not something I need to see. Guys are gross. It’s a universally known fact. So—” She presents the small device and a smile. “He’s your friend, too. You could check it for me, make sure it’s not something I need to know about. Like the deed to a secret mansion I’m set to inherit. Or the details of a bank account with trillions of dollars I could swim in, Scrooge McDuck style. But if it’s some poor woman’s vagina, I’d rather not see that.”
“Y-you want me to take this?” She’s giving me the things I stole earlier.Giving me!“To check what’s on it?”
“Sure. If it’s porn, toss it. Or keep it. Whatever you think is appropriate. If it’s something I should know about, give it back.”
“If it’s trillions of dollars, what makes you think I’ll hand them back?”
Dude. Shut the fuck up.
“I’m unemployed now, remember? I could do with the cash.”
Amused, she purses her lips so they curl up on one side. “Will you lie to me, Lincoln Castro?” She pulls the USB away from my fingers. “Will you ever lie to me?”
Yes. I already have.
I literally am right now by not telling you what I know.
“Look into my eyes.” Her voice softens, and her pulse pounds against the side of her neck, right where her stitches are slowly falling away. “Remember your friendship with my brother and the times you probably saved each other from danger. Think of how much he loved me, and how much you loved him. Remember all that, and then tell me: would you lie to me?”
“No.”God. Fuck. Yes. “I won’t lie to you.”
She releases the USB and drops her gaze. “Then I guess it’s all settled. If I need to know, you’ll tell me. And if I don’t, consider that Ry’s last gift to you. Even if,” she makes a sour face, “it’s something I’m morally not okay with. The porn industry takes advantage of young men and women. How could you consume something so?—”
“Okay, psycho.” I clap one hand over her mouth to silence her words, and the other into my pocket to deposit the USB. Then, inching closer, I stop only when our chests touch, and her neck folds back to keep me in her view. “I didn’t consume. I’m not arguing with you about something I didn’t do. And this is our first date. You don’t get to go full crazy until, like, the fifth.”
She bites my palm and grins when my eyes darken at the stinging pain.
“This is gonna be fun,” I drawl, squeezing her cheeks. “Date night with you is gonna be… It’ll be great.”
She laughs and latches onto my wrist, dragging me around and across the room to the door. “Did you make reservations anywhere, Mr. Castro, or are you one of those low-effort guys? Because if you’re the second, I assure you, I’m tossing you in the trash just as soon as I’m done with your body.”
14
NOVA
THE MAIN COURSE
Lincoln made reservations at La Tavola Italian, a cute little restaurant at the base of the mountains on the edge of town. Inside, the dining room’s three glass walls offer a perfect view of stars flickering in the night sky.
Of all the restaurants in our small, seasonally touristy town, La Tavola’s is one of the fanciest. Linen napkins await diners, andseveralknives and forks frame each plate.
Like the true gentleman he pretends to be, Lincoln holds my hand and leads me through the heavy front doors until we’re greeted by Alessio, the owner’s seventeen-year-old son, who wears a crisp white apron around his too-narrow hips. He gestures for us to follow him, but he’s still a kid, and curiosity is an instinct even adults struggle to control, so despite knowing better, his eyes stray to the side of my neck and the stitches still marking my skin.
“We’ve got it from here.” Irritated, Lincoln stops by our table and tugs me around behind his back. He faces the boy, toweringover him and glowering until the kid’s cheeks pale. “We’d like a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, please.” Then, turning back to me, he pulls out my chair and gifts me with a small smile.
I firm my lips.
“What?” He glances around, clueless. “What’s wrong?”
“Intimidating a child?” I peel my hand from his and seat myself. “Really? Did it make you feel tough?”
He backs up and sits opposite me. “That wasn’t intimidation, Nova. It was ‘stop staring, you little punk, and go do your job before I call your parents out here.’” He flashes a wolfish grin. “Intimidation is trapping a man’s cock between a pair of pliers and encouraging him to answer my questions.” He snags his napkin and lays it across his lap. “Depending on the circumstances, of course.”
“Of course.” I follow suit and smooth my napkin across my thighs. Not that I care if I drop marinara sauce on my dress.
This iswhywe wear black. Duh.
