My jaw sets as I pull her a little closer to my side, eyes already drifting toward the door, toward the guards, toward every possible point of entry.
The second the Moretti family finds this guy and who’s behind it all, they’re going to learn they picked the wrong people to mess with.
33
Maddie
“We can stay home.I think we should stay home.” Nate follows me through the penthouse like a puppy. “What if you’re sick again?”
Speaking of puppy…I check that the dogs are behind us.
“I’m not sick. It’s passed.”
Stopping at the mirror, I give myself a careful once-over, and I have to admit, I do still look a little pale, even with makeup on. Although I’m feeling much better.
I’m even wearing my favorite heeled boots that peak out from my new high-rise, dark, wide-leg jeans, paired with an off-the-shoulder black sweater.
My hair is pulled back into a high pony, and my new necklace shines bright against the black.
Nate steps up beside me, draping his arm over my shoulders.
“Fuck,” he murmurs at our reflection. “We’re hot.”
I glance at him through the mirror, and annoyingly, he’s right, but more about himself.
It doesn’t hurt that Nate Davenport knows exactly how to dress without a single ounce of help.
Matching black sweater, tan suede bomber, dark jeans, suede Chelsea boots…the man looks like he just stepped off a runway.
But I don’t miss the faint shadows under his eyes.
We’re all feeling it today in different ways…even if none of us want to say it out loud.
Blissful ignorance seems to be the theme of the evening.
“Ready?” He sweeps my bangs aside and presses a soft kiss to my forehead.
“Yeah.”
I head back into the kitchen, grab a sleeve of plain crackers, and toss them into my bag—just in case—before we make our way down the hall toward Leo’s.
He had to jump on a quick work call and is running behind, so we’re meeting on his side before heading to the pub.
When we cross over the threshold to Leo’s, Nate goes right to his cabinet, looking at his food.
“We’re eating soon,” I remind him.
“I know. But he always buys better snacks than I do.”
I blink at him. “You have someone buy all your food. The same lady, in fact.”
“Yeah,” he says, rummaging. “But I give her a list. I try to be healthy because I actually care about my body.” He takes out a bag of Doritos. “See.”
I roll my eyes. “Where is he anyway? It’s getting late.”
We don’t come into Leo’s space often; he’s usually camped out in ours, and after what happened yesterday morning, I’m not sure how eager I’ll be to wander over here alone again.
So…naturally, I snoop.
