Page 74 of Gilded Princess

He grabs my fingers in his hand and brings them to his lips. He places a kiss on each of my fingertips, murmuring, “It was nothing.”

My breath catches at the tenderness of it, my anger melting away further. “It sure looks like something. What happened?”

He smiles against my hand. “You should see the other guy.”

“Ha-ha. Don’t use that cliché line on me, Leonardo,” I scold him.

“Ooh, baby, you know what happens when you say my name like that,” he murmurs around a smile.

“Keep it in your pants, Casanova. We’re in the middle of a coffee shop,” I hiss in a hushed voice.

He lifts his head from my fingers, piercing me with his intense gaze. “You never minded an audience before.”

I pull my fingers from his hand, my cheeks pinking under his reminder. “That’s different. Plus, you’re in the doghouse, so stop being so charming.”

Without another word, I grab my drink, thank the barista, and make my way toward a little table along the wall. I pause before I sit down, looking over my shoulder with a raised brow.

Picking up on my cue, he follows me to the table and sits across from me. He leans forward, arms on the table and gaze on me. I take a sip of my iced tea just to give myself something to do. Deja vu hits me hard, my head dizzy, mind scrambling. I squint an eye to stop the spinning feeling. It lasts long enough to remind me why I don’t like those spinning rides at amusement parks.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

I wave a hand in the air as the feeling passes. “Nothing, I’m fine. Why are you here, Leo?”

“Ouch,” he says with a grimace, clutching his chest with one hand.

I wait him out with a raised brow.

His teasing grin falls from his lips, his expression open. “I needed to find you, to apologize, and, fuck, I don’t know, fix it.”

I raise a shoulder in a half shrug. “How can you fix something your brother feels?”

“That’s just it. I don’t think he really feels like that. Matteo has a hard time, uh, expressing himself. He spends too much time wrapped up in here.” He taps his temple with his index finger.

I bite my lip and look him over. “I don’t understand. Earlier you seemed, I don’t know, jealous. And now you’re here championing for Matteo? Apologizing on his behalf? I don’t get it.”

He drums his fingers on the table. “When I win your favor, it’ll be because I’m the better man, the better choice, not because Matteo fucked up before we could really begin. I’m not a default choice, baby. I’m the only choice.”

His words feel like a promise, spinning around into the air and branding themselves on my soul. A shiver skates down my spine, and my cheeks flush at his intensity.

“What if I don’t want to choose though?”

He rakes his teeth over his bottom lip, his eyebrows low and fingers drumming faster on the table. “Then that’s something we talk about.”

I nod and take another sip, surprised by his answer. It’s what I wanted to hear, but still, I’m surprised he seems so . . . at ease.

“And that stuff you overheard, that wasn’t about you—not really. My brother and I have . . . a complicated family.”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

He nods a few times as he fiddles with the sleeve to his paper coffee cup. “But most families aren’t in the mob.” His words are barely above a whisper.

His words roll off his tongue with such ease that I second-guess what I heard. “I’m sorry, did you just say the—”

“Yes,” he interrupts, looking over each shoulder. “Don’t say it again. The five families have eyes and ears everywhere.”

My mouth parts as I search his gaze for any amusement or tease, but all I find is resignation.

“You’re kidding, right?”

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