"Oh?" Othello quirked a brow.
"Yeah, the media thinks it's mafia-related."
"What do you think?"
"Not sure. If the mafia is still around, wouldn't the police have already arrested them? That reminds me, that night you showed up at the hospital was the night things went down at the warehouse. It would be crazy if that were the reason you were shot."
"And if it was?"
Des was about to ask Othello if he was kidding, but his look told him otherwise. However, Des was learning that it was better to ask the tough questions than to hide. This was the reason he had ended up not knowing about what was in his grandfather's will. He grabbed Othello's hand and looked him in the eyes.
"The night you were shot, was it because you were at the warehouse?"
"Yes," Othello responded, and Des was surprised he was so straightforward. "But it was an ambush."
"Wait...wait a second. Are you saying you're really in the mob?"
"I planned on telling you. We don't keep it a secret or blast it everywhere. We like to be discreet in our movements. But yeah."
Des was surprised and didn't know what to say. He'd always thought all the mafia stuff was just on movies or television shows, but to know that serious criminal organizations were operating freely and without repercussions, he could say he grew up way too sheltered. But now it explained things—the men who followed him around or the reverence Tallen had shown him.
"I won't go into details about my family dynamics or what happened that night, but I'll understand if you don't want to see me anymore." He kissed Des on the forehead and then went to walk away, but Des stopped him.
"If this is your way of breaking up with me before we truly get started, it's not working. I don't want to know the intricate things of how your family works, but I want to know you and how you got shot that night. That's it." Othello stared at him for so long that Des wasn't sure if he should say more.
"You shouldn't ruin your kissable lips by chewing on them like that," Othello said, his voice thick with arousal.
"I might not understand the whole mafia thing, or maybe I'm romanticizing things with the mob boss and the naive love interest trope, but I don't care. Like I told you for so long, I never got to choose what I want to do with my life. I know we're not in love, but I want to give us a chance to see where or how far we can go instead of walking away."
"You're not as naïve as you think, Desmond Ellington."
"That's nice of you to say, but I know what you and many others think of me. I'm book-smart but far from street-smart. And although this isn't what I expected to find out so soon after the night we had, I want to be with you, Othello. I've wanted it since the night we met."
"What?" Othello asked.
Des smiled and stood, wrapping his arms around Othello's neck. "It might sound weird, but the first time I saw you lying on the operating table, I fell in lust with you."
Othello smiled, pulling him close. "So you thought I was sexy even with a hole in my chest?"
"Don't be so full of yourself, but essentially yes."
Othello pressed their foreheads together. "I like you too, Doc."
Des leaned in to kiss Othello, but his stomach made itself known once again, intervening in their intimate moment. Othello smiled, stepping back, and taking Des's hand. "Come on, let's eat." They walked over to the nook, sat down, and started eating.
The first half of the meal was quiet since they were both starving, and it was Des who spoke first.
"Have you ever killed someone?" He quickly clamped his hands over his mouth and widened his eyes just as the bite Othello was about to take paused at his lips.
Fuck, did I just ask that? That's not what I was going to ask. Is he going to kill me for asking that?
Othello slowly put his fork back down and turned to look at Des.
"I didn't mean..." he said, removing his hands from his mouth and stuttering nervously. "I mean, I wasn't going to ask? Shit, I-I..." He stopped and glared at Othello. "Will you say something and stop making me think you'll cut my tongue out for asking that?"
Othello smirked and grabbed Des's chair, pulling him and it closer. Leaning forward, he somehow caged him between the nook and his larger body. "Stick out your tongue," he ordered. Des swallowed and nervously stuck out his tongue. Othello licked Des's tongue, then sucked it into his mouth, moaning as he was pulled into a kiss, but before Des could enjoy it, Othello pulled back.
"I doubt I'd want to cut out something that delicious," Othello said, then gently pecked him on the lips. "Besides, there's something else I'd rather do with your tongue."
