Page 74 of His Passerotta

He smiles and kisses my forehead before taking the plate and putting it in the sink. It kills me to waste the few bites left, but I’m too excited to go to his apartment to stop him.

It’s weird to think about how the last time I was in that place, I was terrified.

Anthony takes my hand, but I tug back when he tries to help me off the counter. I’m eager, he’s eager, but there’s something I have to say first before this becomes just about sex. The lust in his eyes softens as he must see the seriousness in mine.

“Just so you know,” I say, my heart racing. “If, gun to my head, there was someone I had to choose to test against my theory, it would be someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” His thumb rubs circles over the back of my hand. “Why not me?”

Why not him?

Of course it would be him. But this is hard to admit as it is.

I’m falling for Anthony Gruco. Hard and fast, with no safety net to catch me if he chooses not to.

I’m quiet, too busy sorting out my thoughts to speak, for long enough that he gives up on an answer. He squeezes my hand instead.

“For the record…” He runs his fingertips over my temple, smoothing back my hair, and I lean into the touch. “I really like you too.”

He smiles before pulling me off the counter and leading me from the kitchen. I hurry to keep up with his eager steps, opening and closing my mouth several times while I try to say more. Try to be more clear.

I have never believed in romantic love. I think I’ve made that perfectly clear.

But Anthony makes me a little less cynical. He makes me want to believe. At the very least, he makes putting myself out there feel like maybe it’s worth it after all.

My mouth stays closed, and I let the thoughts go for now, saving them for when we’re in his bed. That’ll tell me more. It’ll tell me how much of what I’m feeling is lust and how much is hope.

As the thoughts recede, reality takes its place, and I remember my panties thrown carelessly on the floor.

“Shit.” I halt in the backroom doorway.

“What?” he asks.

“Hold on, I’ll be right back.” I pull my hand from his and hurry to the kitchen. If one of the cooks were to find my underwear tomorrow, I’d die of embarrassment.

Once I return to the hallway, Anthony is standing with his hands in his pockets facing me. A smile blooms as our eyes meet, and I stride that way, only for it to fall when I see the back door open.

I slow, watching the person coming through the door, the one Anthony doesn’t register, and as soon as recognition hits, I stop in my tracks.

No.

Oh God, no.

Corey raises his gun before Anthony can even put words to the puzzlement I see cross his face.

“Anthony!” I scream, my finger shooting to point behind him.

He turns and jumps out of the way when Corey pulls the trigger, sending a bullet exploding into the wall.

Anthony lunges at Corey, tackling him to the ground and knocking the gun from his grasp.

“Stop!” I yell, running that way as Anthony pins Corey down and rears back his fist.

“Anthony, stop!”

He’s thrown three punches right to my brother’s face by the time I get there and grab his arm.

“Please, stop it.”

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