“Yeah, you could.” Piper walks over and lowers a plate before me. The sight of the perfectly cooked steak, homemade chips and side salad makes my mouth water. “I’ll be working all weekend. Piper is going out both Friday and Saturday night, and all your friends will be gone.”
I shrug. Being alone has never bothered me before.
“I’m sure I’ll cope.”
“Okay, well. It’s up to you. I just wanted you to know that if you wanted to, you could.”
I smile at him, realising that he’s just trying to do anything he can to make all this better. “Thank you,” I say, stabbing my fork into a chip and pushing it into my mouth. “Any updates on Luis or anything?”
“Nothing for you to worry about, kiddo.”
I suck in a breath, ready to argue with him. But I quickly figure out that he’s probably right. I don’t want to be any deeper in the Reapers, the Wolves, or the Cirillo Family business than I already am.
“I trust you.”
“I trust you too.”
Piper squeezes my shoulder in support as she passes me once more before putting her plate down and slipping into her seat.
“I’ll think about it.”
Thankfully, the conversation moves onto what some kid I’ve never heard of did at school today, and just like that, any talk of the weekend, or thankfully anything to do with my life right now is banished.
“I’ve told Mickey I’m going to spend the next two days at the gym. I’m gonna head up to get some work done.”
“I get your need to fight, Em. I really do. But don’t let your schoolwork suffer.”
“I won’t, I promise.” I drop a kiss on Dad’s cheek before grabbing a can of Fanta from the fridge and leaving them to their night.
“We’re here if you need anything,” Piper says softly.
“I know,” I say, stopping at the door to look back at them. “Thank you, for both being so… cool about all this.”
“What else did you expect, kiddo? We are cool,” Dad jokes.
“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, old man.”
Just like I have all day, I ignore my phone sitting face down on the bedside table as I set myself up with my laptop on my thighs and the stack of paper and textbooks Stella and Calli brought for me.
The need to know if he’s replied burns through me. But it's a temptation I don’t need.
I know just how easy it would be to lose myself in a conversation with him and not get any of this done.
Stuffing down my need to close everything up and distract myself with deviant thoughts about a certain mafia prince who just so happens to be my husband, I focus on the task at hand. I figure the faster I can get this done, the sooner I can move on to the art project my teacher has set and allow myself to drift off into fantasy land.
A fantasy land where I’ll be dreaming about all the things I could do to his body—or rather, all the things he could do to mine.
“For fuck’s sake, Emmie,” I mutter to myself as my head goes straight into the gutter.
With a sigh, I find the right page in the textbook and get to work, my eyes flicking to my phone every few minutes.
By some fucking miracle, I make it just over four hours before I can’t ignore my phone anymore.
I’ve got messages from Seb, Stella, Calli, Cruz, Xander, and even Dad—probably testing to see if I’m actually working or just playing on my phone. But I ignore all of them and open his.
To my surprise, there’s only one. But it’s enough to get my blood pumping.
His Lordship: Did you dream of me?
Heat surges through me, knowing that I don’t need to be asleep to be dreaming about him.
As if he’s been waiting for me to read it, the dots start bouncing.
His Lordship: Did you have a good day? Seb’s just left. He’s drunk, Stella’s in for a good night.
I can’t help but laugh at his aubergine and peach emoji. It’s so unlike him, or the him he allows everyone else to see. Somehow I’ve been granted permission to the other side of him. He’s not just a brutal killer, a force to be reckoned with, but he’s sweet, funny, caring, in his own unique way.
Emmie: Spent most of the day watching shitty car renovation shows with Dad and Cruz. Not exactly my idea of fun, although, I must admit, a couple of the mechanics were easy watching.
His Lordship: Funny, I thought you preferred a guy in a sharp suit with a filthy mouth to dirty clothes and greasy fingers.
A smile twitches at my lips.
Emmie: I guess it all depends on my mood. I wasn’t really in the mood for prim and proper, more dark and dirty.
My cheeks burn, knowing that I shouldn’t be flirting with him, taunting him. But I figure I’ve been unable to hold myself back all this time. He’d probably find it weird if I were any other way.
His Lordship: I think you’re more than aware that an expensive suit doesn’t always mean boring and gentle.
“Fuuuck,” I groan, my thighs rubbing together as some of the time we’ve spent together flickers through my mind.
Emmie: Is Seb the only one who’s drunk?
His Lordship: Maybe, maybe not…
His teasing makes me think it’s probably the latter.
Emmie: Careful, Master Cirillo. Dropping your inhibitions might lead you to all sorts of trouble.
His Lordship: What if I’m ready to throw them all out of the window?
My heart continues to race as everything south of my waist clenches in desire.
Emmie: Just how far are you willing to throw them? Give me something to work with.
12
THEO
My eyes are locked on my tablet as she stares down at her phone, her bottom lip taking the brunt of her desire as she waits for my response.
With my grip on my phone tightening, I force myself to get off the bed and drag my eyes away from her.
She’s got her dark hair piled on top of her head, and she’s wearing an oversized vest that hangs low enough at the front to give me the perfect tease of what I know she’s hiding beneath. But it also shows off the bandage on her shoulder, ensuring the guilt that I’m still feeling over my reaction Monday night continues to swirl around my gut, even with the amount of vodka Seb and I consumed after Alex left, filling my veins.
Coming to a stop in front of my floor-to-ceiling mirrored wardrobe doors, I adjust the waistband of my boxers just so. When I’m happy, I open the camera on my phone and rest my other forearm against the glass.
With my head dipped low, I stare at the camera, imagining I’m looking right into her heated eyes as she begs for me to fuck her.
Snapping a picture, I shoot it off before even checking it. If I look, I’ll pick out a million and one ways I could make it better, and that’s not what this is about.
Be real, Theo. Show her who you really are. Insecurities and all.
She deserves it.