My heart leaps. "She said that?"
She smirks. "It's obvious, like it's obvious you like her."
I scowl. "Yeah, but I've been trying to end her angry response that seems to be never-ending." I shake my head. "Why? What's she said?"
But Lyndall isn't a Marino for nothing. I don't care about her parentage, she's grown up soaked in the Marino ways. And she's looking at me with stubbornness, a little heartlessness, and a lot of sly.
"This and that."
I don't feel like this long, drawn-out game.
My body aches to hold Lola, and I want to fuck her stupid again. The kink and the straight-up sex like we had against that wall.
I shift in my chair and banish the thoughts. I don't want to be sitting here, thinking of sex with my teen sister in the room. It's gross.
"I'm busy."
She folds her arms.
I look at my computer, pretending to read the code on the screen. "She's the one with the problem, not me. Go talk to her."
"You could make things better."
"I've tried. I let her out."
"Of the suite, Enzo." She throws her hands in the air and shakes her head at me. "Stop fighting."
Now I sit back. "I'm not fucking fighting with her. I told you, I've tried to make peace, and I've let her out of the room. I can't give her total freedom the same way I can't give that to you. That creep is still out there. And she just clings to the unimportant bits."
Even as I say it, I'm aware I'm wrong.
They're not unimportant. To her. And I know how it looks.
I also know what I did came from a good place, and I refuse to undo that. I don't regret it. Maybe I went too far, but even then, surveillance is just that. And it was needed.
My libido and emotions just got entangled, that's all.
"Enzo..."
"I'm trying to end it. She doesn't want to help smooth things over. Okay? This is her war, and she's the one who keeps planting bombs and arranging the attacks."
"What are you talking about?"
"War. Her war, not mine."
"Okay, okay, I get it. You don't want to fight. She does. In your eyes."
"In my?—"
"But, Enzo..." She comes up and leans on my table, fluttering her eyelashes like she's five and attempting charm to get her way.
I hate that it always works.
Fucking little sisters.
"What, Lyndall? And you can stop that. It won't work."
"Of course, it does," she says cheerfully. "You can't resist me."
