“Like, despite everything you’ve been through, you’re not angry all the time,” she said.
My brows rose in surprise. I got that question all the damn time, but I didn’t expect it from her. “I’m not happy all the time either. You just haven’t seen me when I’m angry.” I shot her a look over my shoulder. “Count that as a blessing.”
“Still.” She sighed. “How are you happy at all?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I turned to face her but stayed on this pillow while she stayed on hers. “Happiness is a choice. Why would I choose to be angry?”
“No one wants to be angry. We just are.” Her brows were pinched. “How do you make that choice despite everything?”
I realized she was probably asking so she could have this in her arsenal when she married that douchebag, but I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t have time to sit here and recount all of the shitty years I’d gone through before getting to the place I was at now. I didn’t want to tell her that I used to be very fucking angry all of the time, and the only thing that helped was using people as punching bags. If she was going to keep one image of me, I wanted it to be this one but saying I was happy all the time was total bullshit.
“I was angry for a long time. I still am sometimes, but I don’t let my demons control me. I
don’t let them win. I’ve trained myself to be happy the way I trained myself to disassociate when I need to do shit I don’t want to do. It’s not an easy choice to make, but it’s better than the other option.”
She set a hand over my heart. “Do your demons ever come out? Like when you. . .deal with people?”
My mouth twitched. “Yep.”
“Is that when you let yourself be angry?”
“I guess it depends on how much money they owe me.” I smiled at the way her eyes widened even more.
“Oh.”
“Oh?” I smiled. “Just ‘oh’?”
“I know you have to do bad things, but you’re a good man, Rocco Marchetti.”
I could tell she meant it, but I was done talking. I trailed my hand down her body until I reached her cunt. Her breath hitched. I knew she was probably sore, but she opened up her legs for me anyway. Blind trust was the only term I could think of when it came to her. She offered me blind trust. I didn’t deserve it, but fuck, who was I to turn it down?
Fuck. I needed to stop thinking about what happened, but the smell of her, the taste of her, the feel of her was too fucking good. She had the kind of pussy I could easily become addicted to, which was exactly why I wasn’t doing it again.
I set the glass down and sat back, still watching her. She was wearing a top that looked like it belonged in the 1800s, all tight around the waist, with strings in the back and her tits nearly spilling out of the top. It would be easy to take one out and suck on it. Her eyes found mine, and she shimmied in her chair as if she could hear my thoughts. I felt myself smile and forced myself to look away. My eyes landed on Yaritza, who was using her cellphone camera as a mirror to fix her hair. Lenora had been trying to be nice to her all morning, but I could tell she was still bothered by how Yari acted around me last night. Usually, I’d leave it alone and let Lenora jump to whatever conclusion she wanted. I didn’t like explaining myself to anyone, especially jealous women. Call it after-fucking remorse, but I suddenly wanted to explain myself or at least let her know there was nothing there.
“Any luck with Jimmy?” I asked Yari.
“He’s too nice.” She pouted at me. “I told you I need a bad boy, but you won’t give me the time of day.”
“You have serious issues.” I laughed and looked over at Lenora, who was frowning and looking down at the menu like it had answers to all her burning questions. She seemed troubled this morning, and I didn’t like it.
“That took forever.” Dom set a drink down in front of me and one in front of his brother as he took a seat and looked at Rosie. “What time is Cat’s show tonight?”
“Eight. Emma is picking up Enrique at the airport,” Rosie said, typing on her phone. “Isabel and Gio are home already. Dean wants to hold a meeting tonight.”
“Says who?” I asked. How the hell did Rosie know this, and we hadn’t even gotten a text?
“Dean is at their house, and he just told Loren, and Loren told Cat, and Cat told me.” She raised her brows like it was apparent.
“I won’t go,” Dom said, setting a hand over hers. “It’s your birthday.”
She smiled. “You can leave me alone for a few hours, Dom. I won’t mind.”
The server came back with our food. He kept flirting with Lenora and staring at her tits, driving me crazy. What the hell was wrong with me? I took a breath. Her magic pussy. That was what was wrong with me. It was the only reason I took my phone out and texted her.
Me: stop smiling at the server
I saw a smile touch her lips as she typed.
