Page 51 of Trust Me

Yeah, he’s definitely mad. And you know what? Good. Let him be mad.

“It’s none of my concern why he’s upset,” I say, trying my best to make my voice sound convincing.

Colin peers at me with his blue eyes, ages of wisdom in them. “Hmm. I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but Mr. Mazzo has never looked as happy as he has until you moved in.”

“Interesting,” I whisper, not liking how his words are making my icy heart wonder things it shouldn’t. “Have a good night, Colin.”

“Have a good night, Jasmine.” He tips his hat at me.

My ride up to the apartment is short, not long enough for me to overthink what to expect when I walk through the door.

Chapter 23

Jasmine

When I open the door, the lights are off, clouding the apartment in total darkness save for the light above the stove. Elio’s sitting on the couch, an empty crystal glass in his hand on the armrest, facing the TV that’s not on.

He doesn’t look my way, his gruff voice breaking the silence. “How was it?”

“Fine. He was very nice, but we’re going to be friends,” I reply, already walking toward my room.

Before I get very far, his large hand wraps around my hip, halting my movement. His touch is searing, scorching my body through my dress. His fingers dig into my skin, the dress bunching as he does.

“Did he take what’s mine?”

His words break me from my momentary lapse of awareness. I spin around to face him, our chests nearly touching. I look up at him, still shorter even in heels. “And what exactly would that be?”

He steps forward, causing me to take a few steps backward until my back hits the wall. He’s like an animal stalking its prey.

I want to say the shiver running down my spine is from the chill of the wall, but I think it has everything to do with Elio caging me in with his body, his scent surrounding me so much that I can barely think straight.

Elio brings his thumb up to my lips, making my heart cease to beat as he brushes the pad of his finger over them. “You. Your lips, your body, your mind, your heart.” He trails a path down my chin and over my neck, causing a small gasp to escape my lips all while his eyes never leave mine. His thumb travels farther down to my collarbone and then lower, nearing the tops of my breasts.

“Is this okay?” he breathes.

“No.” I surprise even myself with my answer, shoving at his chest.

He backs up instantly, a frown on his face. “What did I do, Jasmine?” He sounds defeated, and it’s what makes me tell him the truth.

“I saw you in Isaiah’s story, all those girls around you. It looked like you were enjoying yourself,” I mutter, not liking how jealous I sound.

His eyes harden, his jaw set tightly as he leans back into me. “I was being nice. I signed some things and then they left. Next time, if something upsets you, talk to me, okay? That way we can figure it out together.”

His solution sounds so simple, because it is. But in the heat of the moment when I was upset and confused, I wanted to push him away. I didn’t want to admit I was hurt in the first place by seeming like a jealous girlfriend by confronting him about it.

“Okay. This is all so new and I shut down when I saw that. It triggered my insecurities,” I admit, folding my lips together.

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. Releasing the breath, his eyes open, locking onto mine. “Dolcezza, no one else holds a fraction of my attention. Want to know why?”

“Why?” I breathe, my eyes trailing from his eyes to his lips, then back up.

He notices, his fists balling up at his sides for whatever reason. “Because you’re all I see. It’s infuriating. I’m usually so good at being in control of my mind, of every fucking thing in my life. But you? The way I want you so desperately, when I know I shouldn’t? You haven’t even fucking touched me and I’m done for because you’ve reached somewhere no one else has,” he admits with a growl, his forehead dropping to mine as he points once to his heart and then to his forehead.

I suck in a breath at his proximity, at the knowledge that I could so easily tilt my head and press our lips together. But mostly, I can barely breathe because of his words, the way they’re trying to wrap around my heart and take up residence there.

“How can I trust that you’re not lying?”

He swallows, not moving his forehead away from mine. He takes my hand that’s nearly shaking and places it over his heart. “Because I’ve never been this nervous yet desperate to taste someone’s lips.”

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