Page 143 of Vicious Temptation

A reluctant smile pulls at my lips. “You screamed like Zara.”

“You gave me trauma.”

“Worth it.” I laugh again, and this one sounds a little more like me.

“But you’re so many other things that make you you,” he says, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “And every single person in that room loves you exactly the way you are. Mom. Dad. All of them.”

I swallow past the lingering lump in my throat.

“You know we’re all fucking crazy, right?” he adds with a chuckle.

That earns a real laugh this time. “Yeah.”

“Good, because it takes a special kind of crazy to put up with you. They’re just worried because they love you, Rem.”

“You give the best pep talks.”

“I know. Now stop crying so we can go back to pretending we hate each other.”

I lean in and give him one last squeeze before pulling away and dusting the little-brother cooties off my shirt.

“I didn’t say anything about...him.” Matteo’s voice has me turning around. He’s standing a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, as if he materialized out of thin air. “They don’t know,” he adds. “And Zara refuses to talk about that day, so for now, you don’t have to worry about anyone finding out from us.”

Some of the tension finally leaves my body. Mamá knows who Thiago is, but she doesn’t know about Zara or what happened that day. I doubt she’ll bring him up to anyone until she has something concrete.

She’ll do her own digging first.

“You heard all that in there?”

He nods, glances down the hall, then looks back at me. “But I do agree with them about knowing exactly who he is. Digging a little deeper can’t hurt.”

“I already have.” I cross my arms. “On paper, everything checks out. So unless he’s secretly part of some government psyop program, he’s just a regular guy.”

“He’s a cop,” Matteo reminds me, which is rich coming from the man who practically rolled out the welcome mat for him a few days ago.

“Yeah, and? I’m just having fun with him. That’s all.”

Gio grimaces while Matteo lets out a slow breath.

“Fun like you’re teaching him how to swap a carburetor or showing him how to play chess, right?”

“Exactly, little bro.” I turn and start down the hall. “Lots and lots of chess.”

“Remi, what the fuck?” His disgust follows me down the hall, and I can’t help but laugh.

Gio is twenty and far from innocent, but just like I never want to know who he brings home, I’m sure the feeling is mutual. I’d much rather keep thinking of him as the twelve-year-old who nearly lost his shit over a room full of plastic scorpions.

* Enough.

Thirty-Six

thiago

Who knew sending a simple text message could be so complicated?

If I tell her I miss her, she’ll think I’m getting too attached. And despite being exclusive, or whatever the hell we are, she’s been adamant we’re not a couple. Hell, she swears up and down we’re not even friends.

I lean against my locker, the cold metal pressing into my back as I stare at the unfinished message on my phone.