The money and the card held tight in my hand, I make my way over to my bodyguard, deciding to get the teasing over with sooner rather than later. There’s no avoiding it, after all. “Wowwww, how much did you get?” Frankie asks, grinning deviously and leaning over the bar, trying to peek into my han
“Frank!” I gasp, spinning to look after him as he strides down the hall. But he just waves to me over his shoulder, letting me know that this is my problem and mine alone. I glance around, looking for Nico, Violetta – anyone. But damn it, I’m alone with my best friend. I sigh, turning back to
Her eyes still on Christian’s hand, Violetta clears her throat. Slowly, Christian’s fingers drop to the counter top. I don’t really dare to breathe because…well, because while we weren’t doing anything precisely bad… It wasn’t good, was it? If I caught my boyfriend doing that, we’d be having o
Frankie, adorably, just wrinkles his nose and I have to suppress a laugh because my friend, the trained killer, he’s like a little bunny rabbit right now. When he goes still I do it again. This time he raises his hand and brushes at his nose. I laugh, not louder than a whisper, and tap him again.
I drift off a little bit after Frankie goes, worrying and wondering, and when I wake up the sun is much more advanced. I shake my head, blinking away my sleep, and I look over at the other side of the bed. The blankets are, indeed, mussed – and there’s a distinct indent on the pillow that Frankie us
“Get what?” I ask, curious. “It just doesn’t add up,” Violetta says, raising her pretty eyes to mine. “I mean, Christian says that he’s taking care of you for a while – keeping you safe. And I get that – my family has…connections as well, like Christian’s does…” She pauses, raising an eyebrow, s
While Frankie drives us to my lunch shift at Lupa, he doesn’t mention – at all – anything that may or my have not passed between us this morning. I watch him carefully from the corner of my eye, watching for any hint or a sign but… No, there’s really nothing. Frankie’s rather a lock box, isn’t he?
“No,” I say, casting my eyes down, sensing that now is not a moment to press, or counter, or play coy. No, he wants to dominate me in this moment, to play boss. And I know how to play my role in this game. “I’m sorry, Edward – but I…” I hesitate, glancing over at Andre, trying to decide if I will ge