Page 27 of Bound in Debt
“Freedom.” Her expressive eyes slam back into mine, rooting me to the spot. I couldn’t move even if I tried, not while she holds me with a fierceness that should be beyond her years. “I don’t want to be married at twenty. I’m going to be twenty-one in two weeks and I want to spend my birthday going out with my friends, not planning a wedding to a douchebag who doesn’t deserve me. I have plans…”
She stops there and I find myself leaning forward, eager to know all her deepest desires, but I don’t press. This truce of ours is too fragile.
“Like I said,” I reply slowly. “You’re too good for him. Keep it that way.”
“You’re the only person who’s said that to me besides my best friend.” She sounds grateful for the assurance, a little breathy and full of hope that she’s not alone in this.
But she is.
Because I can’t get involved. Not in the college drama and not in protecting her from my family or from Lombardi.
Yes, I saved her from breaking her neck but that’s because I apparently still have something resembling a conscience.
“Stick with your gut, Victoria.”
“Vee,” she corrects me again, shifting her weight. “I should…sneak out of here.”
She should, but if Liam is still searching for her, she’s going to get caught.
Not your problem.
“Let me see your hand first.”
Victoria hesitates, chewing on her lip. Fuck me. “I’m good.”
“I’m not going to assault you, just check out your hand.” I leer, aiming for cartoonish villainy. As much as I love an independent woman, her stubborn streak is a mile-wide and beyond frustrating.
“Well, that made it worse.”
I scowl at her before heading back to the bathroom for rubbing alcohol and a few Band-Aids. When I return, I find Victoria right where I left her. She must’ve figured that her odds of making it off the Moretti property without an engagement ring were slim to none because I see the slump in her shoulders.
I point to the couch, still half-covered by a white sheet. I’ve barely moved anything since moving in eight months ago. “Sit down.”
Victoria does what I ask—for once—and I find myself not knowing where to go.
The floor.
The couch next to her.
Everywhere seems too close, but I bite the bullet and get on my knees in front of her. She spreads her legs automatically, accommodating my body and framing my hips.
Should’ve picked the couch.
Victoria doesn’t take her eyes off me as I twist the cap off the alcohol bottle, focusing on my task before blindly reaching for her hand.
“Don’t you have a towel?” she asks as I hold the bottle over her palm.
“Nope.” I mean, I’m sure there are plenty in here, but I don’t give a shit about the cleanup.
“You’re gonna make a—ouch!” Victoria squeals, attempting to yank her wrist from my grasp, but I have it locked tight in my hand.
Pulling it to my mouth, I begin softly blowing on her skin to take away the sting and Victoria freezes.
Tension snaps between us, fraught and dangerous. This girl is like a unicorn, vibrant and spunky on the outside and soft on the inside. She knows what she wants and will fight to the death to obtain it.
And the thought of marrying my nephew obviously puts her in fight mode.
I can’t do anything but respect and love the shit out of that.
