As we move away Christian glances around for cameras, but those that I spy are as old and defunct as the gas station parking lot in which we stand – powerless, probably not used in years. I glance back towards the road, where traffic continues to fly by, apparently not noticing the scene before them
Christian, seeing what I’m doing, doesn’t say anything to Nico or Frankie yet and instead comes to the kitchen, standing at the counter in front of me and waiting patiently as I pour him a long dram and slide his crystal tumbler over the counter to him. I don’t give him any ice, knowing he won’t wan
I stare at Nico, having no idea what to do next, when suddenly Christian’s words register with me. Wait, what? Make him decide between me and Nico…again? When had Nico made him make that choice before? But there’s no time to think on it as Nico looses an exhausted breath, drops his eyes from
“The harm,” Nico snaps, “beyond the obvious, is that you and Violetta had a date tonight, Chris. She was waiting for you, and then she got pissed. I couldn’t tell her where you were because I didn’t know, and even if I did I probably wouldn’t have!” He glances at me now, his habitual frown on his fa
Frankie reaches forward across the table to grab the half-drunk bottle of whiskey, breaking my eyeline for a second, breaking the connection between Christian and I. I inhale a deep breath as I blink, realizing suddenly that I’d stopped breathing in that moment. But despite what passed between Chr
“Iris isn’t going anywhere,” Christian murmurs, sitting back on the couch and shaking his head, clearly thinking this through. “I want the Romano family out of this scott free – no blame touching us, even through a bartender. Marino’s enough on the edge right now that any bad blood with the Romano’s
“She can do it,” Christian says on a long sigh, and when I turn to him I see him looking at me with such grim confidence that my heart warms, touched by his belief in me. But still – I need more details. “What…what would I have to do?” I ask quietly, looking around at the three of them, wanting
“That’s not what Romano thinks,” I point out. “True,” Frankie says, turning his eyes to me. “But Romano thinks you’re fucking Christian.” “What!?” I breathe, because I! I did not know that! And then I realize that if Romano thinks that…then… “Oh, ew!” “Wait,” Nico murmurs, watching me closely.