“Just saying that after a three-year, sad,dryseason, if a guy made you giggle, you don’t push him away. And when that guy has a body and a cock like those of your Italian Stallion, and he can make your vjayjay drip, you definitely call him and apologize. You even go on your knees and beg and suck the fuck out of his—”
“God, you’re such a nasty… Anyway, I’m not going to do any of these things because you’re wrong. It was just a sexual attraction after what you elaborately described as a long dry season. I don’t like Fabio Zappa.”
Her eyes narrowed at me again. “Boss, you wouldn’t be so upset after he left that you went to a goddamn liquor store if you didn’t like Fabio Zappa.”
CHAPTER22
Fabio
“Don’t make me regret I told you.” I loosened Tiara’s leash as Mattia and I strolled down the snowy park a couple of blocks from the house. It was so early in the morning the sky was still gray. I couldn’t sleep last night, waiting for Emilia to come home—she didn’t—and torturing myself recalling Lady Brighton’s every fucking word and gesture, sporting an uncomfortable, inexplicable hard-on.
Mattia was an early bird, and when she saw me up, she suggested the walk so we could talk. My big sister was the only one I confided in, even though she could be a pain in the ass most of the time. She was the only one in my family I told about escorting, and now Gabriella.
“But you are a dickhead. No wonder she called you a boy,” she said.
“Che cazzo?”
She slapped my arm. “You said you met the guy, and he was a total douche, right? Like sending a spy was something a guy like him would do, yes?”
“Yes,” I mumbled.
“And you’re blaming her for trying to protect herself? C’mon, Fab. Don’t you dig up the history of any guy who tries to date me or Emilia, even if they’re good, just to make sure we’d be safe? How is what your lady did any different? She’s all alone with a vulture lurking to make her his meal. She’s gotta look out for herself.”
My brows hooked, and I swore under my breath. At myself before anyone else. All the time I was driving that night I was thinking the same thing, but my anger had yelled over everything else. I hated it when my smartass sis was fucking right. “She’s…not my lady.”
“She could be if you stopped being a dickhead.”
I just shook my head. That ship had sailed.
“Why the hell not? You’re smitten over her ass, and she freaking likes you back. I don’t know why. She must not be as smart as you said she was, but it is what it is.”
I glared at her. “You don’t know shit. I’m not smitten. That shit isn’t possible. I met her less than forty-eight hours ago.” Well, that ass, though, was…oof. “And she is smart.” I didn’t know why I took offense and had to defend Gabriella’s intelligence. “But she doesn’t like me at all. She called me a dirty boy toy and kicked me out.”
“Because you practically called her an arrogant, liar bitch and then acted like said boy toy.”
“Did not.”
“Did too.”
“Did not.”
She reached for a smack on the back of my head but couldn’t because she was too short and settled for one on my shoulder. “Did too, idiota.”
“Fine. I did. But she…” A terrible ache constricted my chest. “I felt something real for the first time in years, but for her, it was all fake. Even if there is a chance she could feel the same way later, we’ll never gonna work.”
“Says who? Is it because of her age? Don’t be such a dude.”
“Of course it’s not about her age. If anything, it’s part of her beauty.”
“Then why are you saying this shit?”
“Because she’s right!” I hated to admit it even to myself, but it was the truth. I stopped in my tracks, looking down, waving an arm in frustration. “I’m not good enough for her.”
My sister gave me a calm smile, rubbing my arm instead of smacking it now. “Then be good enough for her.”
“You were supposed to say Iwasgood enough. You’re the worst sister ever.”
“You are good enough for me, for all of us, but it doesn’t matter what I think. It’s what you believe that counts, and you, for the first time ever, think you’re not good enough.”
