Page 25 of Vicious Temptation

I narrow my eyes at her, but she’s already disappearing around the corner. Heat creeps up my neck as I reach for one of the menus before Thiago notices.

Damn you, Marie.

“How’s your arm?” I ask, pretending to study the entrées as though I don’t already know them by heart.

“A little sore when I think about it, but nothing too crazy.”

I lower the menu and meet his eyes. “You know, I’ve never met anyone who takes being shot so lightly. And don’t tell me it’s not your first time, because then I’ll have to seriously consider walking out.”

I’m only half-joking. The more time I spend around him, the more curious I become about the things that don’t quite add up.

He chuckles and rests his forearms on the table. “I told you it’s barely a scratch. The only thing I’m worried about is the scar cutting through one of my favorite pieces.” He glances at the tattoo on his arm. “And avoiding the ER means I get to take you out to dinner, so I’d call that a win-win.”

I lower the menu another inch. “Take me out to dinner?”

“That’s usually what it’s called when two people go somewhere and eat together.”

“You’re buying me food as restitution for damages.”

“Right.” His mouth twitches. “Completely different.”

“Glad we cleared that up.” I lift the menu again before he catches how close I am to laughing.

JB comes by as promised, takes our orders, and sends me a wink before leaving. Apparently, everyone here has decided this is a date except me.

They’re going to have a hell of a lot of questions when I show up alone next time.

“So,” Thiago says, “about that GT-R.”

“What about her?”

“Her?” His eyebrows lift.

“Yes, her.”

“How long have you had her?”

“A few years.”

“That color is unique. Not something you see every day. What made you choose it?”

My fingers find my father’s ring in my pocket as memories of Ryuji surface. Katsura orange was never meant to blend in, and neither was the GT-R. But I didn’t choose the color because I wanted people to look.

I chose it because of him.

That part of my life isn’t something Thiago has earned, so I give him the easy answer instead.

“It’s pretty,” I say with a shrug.

“And you did all the work yourself?”

“Most of it.”

His eyes narrow slightly. “Now I’m curious.”

“What’s got you so curious?”

“How much of what’s under that hood came from the factory.”