Page 230 of Safe Word

I narrowed my eyes at the nickname, and he raised his palms in mock-defence.

‘No nicknames, no nicknames.’

We started up the road, weaving through the thinning crowd, brushing shoulders with the occasional lost tourist. The farther we went, the quieter the city became, and the usual symphony of Rome’s nightlife softened into a hushed, uneasy stillness.

‘I’m meeting Cain in a few,’ Vinnie said, glancing at the winding road ahead. ‘He’s at the office.’

I puffed out some air in relief. Good.

But that damn prickling sensation along my spine? It hadn’t gone away.

My eyes darted from one corner to another until they snagged on Vinnie – the effortless way he moved: relaxed yet alert, like a man who knew how to read a room before even stepping into it. He had a confidence that made people trust him, made them laugh, made them forget.

The thought drew a smile to my face. For all the darkness in Cain’s life, at least he had Vinnie to help him through it.

I’d had Gianna, sure, but at the time of my troubles she’d been on a different continent.

Then, as if Vinnie could sense the gears turning in my head, he smirked.

‘You know,’ he mused, tilting his head at me, ‘this whole thing serves you right for choosing Cain over me.’

I let out a sharp laugh, shaking my head. ‘I didn’t know there were options, Vinnie.’

‘Harsh.’ He pressed a hand to his chest in mock offence. ‘But fair. Still, you’d be a lot happier if you were pining over this—’ he gestured to himself with an exaggerated flourish ‘—instead of some broody bastard with control issues.’

‘Yeah?’ I chuckled. ‘And you’d be a lot happier with that girl you hauled the other night instead of running errands for Cain and me.’

Vinnie closed his mouth, but his smile never faltered. ‘Who else is going to take care of you wretches?’

I smirked but didn’t answer.

Nevertheless, the chat with Vinnie helped me forget about the bad things around me. And I so needed that right now.

Something stuck with me, however.

I glanced up at him, catching the slight shift in his demeanour – just a tremor, gone almost as soon as I’d caught it. But I was beginning to get to know Cain’s best friend. I was learning the way he moved, the way he worked around people, and I knew he couldn’t have been all jokes and swagger.

His smile brightened again at the indirect contact, like he’d been waiting for me to look.

‘Go on,’ he said, his voice lower, smooth. ‘Say what’s on your mind.’

I narrowed my eyes again, debating whether or not I wanted to entertain whatever game he was playing. But my gut told me he already had a response lined up.

‘You’ve been acting weird.’ I watched him carefully. ‘Not in a Vinnie-weird way, but like you’re deliberately avoiding something.’

‘Honey Buns,’ he said with a purposeful glint in his eyes, ‘if you think this is me being weird, you should try playing brìscola with me.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘I’m not very good with card games. Can I have the normal-Vinnie answer, please?’

This man must’ve suffered from some sort of chronic flirting syndrome.

He let out a soft hum, considering me for a beat. Then, with the ease of a man who’d never seemed to be rattled by much in his life, he said, ‘Maybe I’m just enjoying the moment.’

I arched a brow, replaying the events since I’d met him, but couldn’t hook onto anything out of the ordinary. ‘The moment?’

‘The rare chance, Honey Buns,’ he put his long arm around me and squeezed playfully, ‘to have you all to myself!’ He winked at me jokingly, his voice warm, teasing, but with just enough weight behind it to make me take a longer look at him. ‘No Cain. No distractions. Just us.’

I scoffed, shrugging out of his embrace, but the easy movement didn’t settle the discomfort sitting in the middle of my gut.