Page 45 of Broken Deal

“What’s your favorite color?”

“That’s what you want to know? My favorite color?”

“Humor me.” She pats me on the shoulder jokingly.

I shift and face her now, placing my hands on her legs, my fingertips caressing her smooth skin back and forth. Every time I’m near, I have the urge to touch her. I’ve never cared much about showing affection to someone. That was a strange concept in my house, after all. I can’t evenremember the last time I received a hug just because. These things are strange to me, but still, with Sophia, it’s the most natural thing.

“I don’t have a favorite color.”

Her eyes roll slightly, followed by a light laugh. “Come on, everyone has a favorite color. Mine’s periwinkle. Now spill it—what’s yours?”

I can’t help but smirk. It’s funny, considering I gave her a flower of that exact color earlier. I let the silence hang between us for a moment before my eyes lock onto hers. “The color of your eyes,” I say, opting for honesty.

Her brows knit together as her nose crinkles, making her look unintentionally adorable. “Blue? That’s such a basic color. I thought you were more creative.” She lets out an exaggerated sigh, her tone playful. “What a shame, Ace.”

I shake my head, tucking her usual wild strand of hair behind her ear. My hand travels to the nape of her jaw, and I start stroking her soft skin. “Your eyes aren’t just blue,” I whisper. “They’re deep and vibrant, like the ocean at its calmest. But when that fire flares up in you, they become more intense, like the sea before a storm.Bluedoesn’t even begin to cover it. And they are anythingbutbasic.”

She tenses under my touch, her breath hitching at my confession. Even in the soft lighting, I witness for the briefest moment how her eyes sparkle before she looks the other way, avoiding my gaze. “Uh, your turn to ask a question,” she says weakly.

I roll my lips, holding back a satisfied smile. It’s not often I get to witness Sophia looking nervous. Can’t say I don’t enjoy it. I also can’t say I didn’t mean what I said. It’s the honest-to-God truth. Her eyes are unique, wild, and anythingbutordinary. They fit her perfectly because she’sextraordinary.

My hand drops to her leg again, continuing the caress. “What’s one thing you’ve always wanted to do?”

She looks up, tilting her head as she ponders for a moment. “Skydiving.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Someone likes the adrenaline, huh?”

She shrugs. “I’ve always said it’s the Evans’ curse. We all have our vice. Mine is feeling. I want to feel exuberant.Alive.”

“What do you mean?”

She tsks. “This is not how this game works. It’s your turn to answer.”

Before I can register what I’m saying, I confess, “Work in the kitchen. Be a chef. Ditch the suits and put on an apron. Create new, exciting recipes.”

Her eyes zero in on me, studying me. Scrutinizing me. Almost like what I said makes her look at me in a different light. “Why don’t you?”

This is exactly what I feared. Exposing something so personal makes me feel like crawling out of my own skin. It’s like a wave of discomfort rising up, making me itch with the need to escape, to disappear before the vulnerability can settle in.

I pull my knees to my chest and rest my elbows on them, looking over the ocean. It’s so dark, I can barely see anything, but I know it’s there from the smell, and the soft sounds of waves crashing against the rocks.

“Not what I was meant to do. I was born to carry the Mancini legacy. To think and act like a businessman. I was meant for something greater, or at least that’s what my father used to say.” The anger I feel every time I think about this starts to surface, but I fight to keep it down, steadying my voice. What I’m doing—being honest, letting her see the real me—makes my chest tighten.

Sophia’s gentle hands cup my face, and she grips my chin, making sure I meet her eyes. “Don’t let others dictate your life, Lorenzo. It’s up to you to shape your own future and find your own happiness. Do you understand?”

The corner of my lip tugs with the softest, smallest smile.

“Do. You. Understand?” she asks again, the grip she has on my chin tightening.

I nod, grinning now. “Careful, Blue. If you keep this up, I might start thinking you actually care,” I joke, trying to ease the tension. This whole game is getting a bit too real, too fast. And while opening up to her feels surprisingly natural, I’m not ready to lay bare all my scars. That would probably drive her away, and I selfishly want to keep her close. In such a short time, she’s become someone I can connect with and confide in. She’s become a part of my tiny, tight-knit circle.

She pulls her hands away from my face, and I immediately feel the absence of her touch, a wave of disappointment washing over me.

“Wouldn’t that be something?” she says, tilting her head with a hint of amusement in her voice.

Her words make my heart clench. Maybe,justmaybe, I’ve started to care a little more than I thought. Hell, I probably started to care the moment she stormed back into my life like a whirlwind, knocking the wind out of me with her laughter, her eyes, her smile—all of her. The thought is completely crazy, because she’s only been around for a short time, yet it’s like I’ve known her forever. Something about her pulls me in, and not knowing what it is drives me wild.

“You deserve to be happy, Lorenzo. Never stop chasing that.” Her voice is steady, serious now, not a hint of the playful tone from before.

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