Page 55

I blinked at him and smiled. “Yes, a friend. Chelsea is also a friend. All of my friends are exactly what I say they are. Don’t get that look in your eyes.”

“What look?”

I rolled my eyes. “That look that says you want to do something illegal to anyone you think is too close to me.”

Not that I hate that it’s his first instinct. Something might be wrong with me, but that’s fucking hot. I would never in a million years tell Enzo that, though. He would take it as a reason to do something insane.

My phone stopped ringing, and I finally focused on it again. “Shit. I need to call him back.”

Enzo grabbed my phone, shoved it into the hem of his pants, and picked up his mug. He sipped at it, walking away before he tugged open a drawer and began digging.

“There are a few good food places around here. We can either go or order something for delivery.”

I groaned. “Give me back my phone.”

“What do you want to eat?” he asked, picking out a stack of takeout menus. “We slept kind of late, so breakfast or lunch is an option.”

I raised a brow at him. “You’re going to keep pretending you don’t hear me, aren’t you?”

Enzo glanced at me and smiled. “What do you like to eat the most?”

Fuck. He’s so cute.

Never thought I would use the word cute to describe a man like Enzo. Shit, I was doing all kinds of things I never thought I would do. As I took a sip of my coffee, I realized I wasn’t drinking and didn’t have the urge to do so. The thought of grabbing some blow and doing a few lines was gone as well. As Enzo poured over the menus, all I could do was think about how calm I was with him. When I wasn’t pissed off.

How am I supposed to do my job when I’m all mixed up?

“If you don’t pick something, I’ll pick for you,” Enzo said.

“Fine.” I grabbed a menu and flipped through it. Rourke could wait. For now. “I’m craving Greek food.”

Enzo took out my phone and held it out toward me. “Password.”

“I don’t want you digging around in my phone.”

“Mine is upstairs. I’m only using it to call in food for us,” he said patiently.

I stared at him, unsure of how much I wanted to give him. Slowly, I entered my password where he couldn’t see it. When he took it back, Enzo dialed the number to the restaurant and pressed my phone to his ear.

What did it say that I could trust him more than other, more upstanding people I knew?