Page 42 of Thief of my Heart

I was pretty sure he meant the two of them. Cute but gross.

Nonna took another sip of her cocktail. “Sì, sì, my love. Back by curfew, okay?”

“No problem, Nonna. Love you.”

I didn’t even get a response—the two of them were too busy canoodling in the kitchen corner while Joni and Marie made gagging noises at the table.

Outside, Michael was pacing the sidewalk like a cat, but he stopped when he heard the door open again.

“All right, James Bond,” I said as I skipped down the steps, hopping over the third one that squeaked. “Your dirty little secret is safe. They were too into flirting with each other to wonder where I was going.”

His face twisted like he’d eaten something bad. “Doesn’t that make you want to go back in? You should be out with someone who wants to show you off, not hide from your family, don’t you think?”

My stomach flipped at his words, but I ignored the fact that he was actually right. That couldn’t be how he actually felt. Not if he was saying it out loud.

“So, what are we doing?” I asked, as I took his hand without waiting for him to offer.

He looked down at our joined palms, then back at me. Then he seemed to give up the idea of fighting, instead opting to tuck my hand into his jacket pocket along with his. His thumb brushed the inside of my palm. I shivered despite the warmth of my jacket.

“I had some ideas,” he said. “Nothin’ fancy, but more than walk. And before you offer again, it’s on me.” His mouth curved into a shy smile. “I got paid today.” He held up a plastic bag that was obviously full of something for the two of us.

I perked. “You should be saving that money.”

“Nah, I got it.”

I followed him to the corner of 187th, where a yellow taxi sat, engine purring. I didn’t realize it was for us until Michael strode forward to open the door.

“A cab?” I asked. “Michael, no. Come on, let me help. I have a little money from babysitting and helping Nonno at the shop.”

“Jesus, Lea, fuckin’ stop.”

To my surprise, I found myself obeying the curt order. I swallowed but made no move. I wasn’t sure what he wanted me to do right now.

Michael shook his head as he opened the back door of the car. “Get in. Let me do this my way, all right?”

I recognized a man’s pride. I’d seen it in my nonno’s face too often not to. It was a quality he often said too many men lacked. Something he respected in others.

For the first time, I considered the possibility that Nonno had hired Michael as more than a favor to our priest.

I got in. He slid in beside me and called out directions to the driver, who stepped on it so abruptly that I was jerked back in my seat. Quickly, Michael reached around me, nearly caging my body against the frayed leather seats.

He was so…close. His body suddenly seemed much bigger than it had before. I felt the heat pouring off his skin, registered the slight scratch of his chin against my cheek, and caught the scent of men’s body wash, a little bit of motor oil, and something that was indescribably and deliciously him.

“I—what are you doing?” I asked, though I could barely get the words out.

“Your seat belt,” he murmured, breath warm against my ear while the familiar click barely registered in the back of my mind.

Then, just as quickly, he sat back in his seat and offered a sly grin as he fastened his own belt.

I almost melted right there.

“Th—thanks,” I stuttered before turning to the window.

I felt like I was losing the upper hand.

And I wasn’t sure I liked it.

We sat in silence as the car drove through the Bronx Park, most of which was completely black in the dark of the night. Michael seemed content to stare out his window, unwilling to make conversation or even look at me. Every time I peeked at him, he didn’t look back at me, much to my frustration. But it gave me some time to observe him. How he’d taken a minute to comb his hair as he had for dinner with my grandparents. And how he’d spot-cleaned his black boots, which looked shinier than they ever had. His white shirt collar was open a bit more, revealing bits of the tattoo I was sort of dying to see in full, but also a silver box chain I hadn’t noticed before. It shone whenever a streetlight caught it, but it wasn’t anything close to some of the chains even kids at my high school liked to wear. Unostentatious and quietly beautiful. Exactly like him.

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