Page 79 of Broken Deal

My fingers trace another tattoo, opting to not push the topic any further. This one is a kitchen knife. It’s simple, but the shading is impressive. I’ve never seen anything like it. “What about this one?”

“I got it when I opened my first restaurant,” he responds simply. “It was the best day of my life. I got to be behind the scenes for the grand opening. I was so in my element, I sometimes wish I could go back in time.”

My hand reaches for his jawline, and I start stroking it softly. “I’m sorry.”

He leans into my touch, his eyes never leaving mine. Even in the night, his eyes are the most beautiful light shade of brown. “For what?” he asks softly.

There are so many things I want to say, I don’t even know where to begin.

For the fact that the cards life dealt you were not the best.

For the fact that you feel trapped in your life and don’t know how to get out of it.

For the fact that you’re such a wonderful man and you deserve so much more.

The last thought flips my stomach, making my heart clench, but I shut the door on it before it goes too damn far. Something I’ve become accustomed to doing around Lorenzo.

I shrug, opting to not reply. Instead, I say, “You haven’t asked me any questions today.”

He hums, contemplating. “What am I going to do with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“With this. With us,” he whispers.

A million thoughts run through my head.

Does he feel it, too?

How everything is shifting?

Does he feel different about me?

Is he regretting this deal?

“You’re going to let me be yours for now.” I muster a fake smile, hoping he doesn’t see through my bullshit. Hoping he doesn’t see that if my life were any different, I might hope for more.

“And when it’s over?” he asks softly, his brown eyes flashing with a hint of something. Vulnerability, maybe?

Impossible.

I turn around and reach for the nightlight to turn it off, needing a moment to digest the question. He wraps his hand around my waist, closing the gap between us. The warmth of his body against mine feels like belonging. Like this is where I’m meant to be.

“We’ll look back and remember how this was thesummer of our lives, and how much fun we had,” I answer simply, hoping he doesn’t feel the way my heart is pulsing wildly.

He lets out a deep sigh and kisses the top of my head. I love it when he does that. “Non so come potrò mai lasciarti andare?1.”

“What does that mean?”

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “You asked too many questions tonight.”

I hadn’t noticed, but he’s right. And he answered them all without hesitation.

I don’t know what any of this means anymore. We say we’re friends with benefits, but then I turn around and ask him to stay over. We say we’re having fun for the summer, but then he opens up to me without any doubt, and it confuses me even more. I try to convince myself this is all part of the deal, yet the way he holds me in his arms has my heart believing otherwise. The way he holds me feels like forever. Like there are unspoken promises he’s making.

I’m playing with fire.

I know it.

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