Page 14 of Filthy Savage

“Why else would you offer me money?” I tilt a brow. “Do you go around asking people if they need money on a regular basis?”

“No.” His stare only intensifies. “But I can tell you need some help and I wanted to offer mine. That’s all.”

Straightening my spine, I pick up a mozzarella stick, dipping it in the marinara sauce. “Well, I appreciate that, but as I said, I’m fine.”

His mouth tenses as he stares hard at me, like he wants to argue some more. Instead, he lets out a frustrated exhale as he continues to eat, and I do the same, the tension thick between us.

“So tell me about your family.” I clear my throat, trying to change the subject and erase this unease that’s caused a wedge between us. “They must all be so happy with the wedding.”

He nods stiffly. “Mm-hmm. My brother never wanted to get married.”

“Oh?”

Then he’s filling me in on everyone in his family, and I’m thankful he’s dropped the money conversation. He’s apparently one of five siblings, with two sisters and two brothers. Must be nice to come from such a large family. All I ever had was myself. My dad split when I was only two, and my mom never had any more children.

I often wonder about my father. Who he is. If he’s still alive. My mother won’t tell me his name, and I’ve not been able to findmy birth certificate. She’s hidden it somewhere just so I don’t find him. Whenever I try to bring him up, she shoots me down, angrily dismissing my questions.

When will you learn he doesn’t love you, Amara? He never has.

Those words are like a knife to my heart. Did my father really not love me, or is she just lying?

“You okay?” he asks, bringing me out of these awful reminders.

“Yeah, sorry.” I tug a few strands behind my ear. “I’m looking forward to the wedding. I’ve never been to one.”

He grins. “Wait until you see how we party.”

My eyes suddenly widen. I just realized I don’t have anything formal to wear. There are only two dresses in my small luggage, and he’s seeing one.

“Do you think I can wear this?” I glance down at my sundress.

“Of course you can.”

But just one look at his tux says otherwise. What choice is there, though? My other dress is way more casual than this.

We finish our food, and then he’s paying for the meal and walking me out toward the elevator.

As he stands beside me, his arm brushes mine, sending jolts of electricity shooting through my body. Both of us stare straight ahead at the elevator doors, waiting for them to open.

All the while, I wonder what he truly thinks about me. Does he really find me attractive? Is my age really a big deal? I mean, thirty-one isn’t that old. Though the thought of getting naked in front of him makes my stomach turn.

“Thanks for everything,” I tell him, meaning every word.

And I don’t just mean for the food, but for Xander too.

“Anytime.” His husky timbre lands in my gut and grips like thorny vines.

His eyes fix on mine, his jaw visibly flexing. My breathing grows shallower, unable to fight this connection I feel in my core every time he looks at me. His stare drops to my lips, and before I can wonder what he’ll do next, he takes a step forward, his body growing nearer second by second until it’s almost pressed to mine.

My stomach somersaults as a finger slowly brushes a strand of hair away from my face, his hooded gaze capturing mine where I stand.

As I remain here gazing up into his eyes, I wonder if he’ll kiss me, wishing he would.

Seconds tick by, and he doesn’t even try.

My heart instantly sinks when he backs away, running a hand down his face just as the elevator arrives.

We ride up together in complete silence—so heavy around us, I can feel it.

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