Page 30 of Cocky Jerk

My stomach flips at the suggestion and I lick my lips. If this is a test, I’m going to fail epically. You see, the thing about dating morally challenged guys is there are no expectations. You know they’re a dime a dozen and if they walk away, you don’t really care. No big loss. But the guy who sends you fruit and takes you to a little hole in the wall restaurant where he introduces you to the owner, you’re not so quick to write him off. You realize guys like him don’t come around all that often and when they do, they’re looking for a specific girl. For the first time in my life, I care whether I fit the mold or not and that scares me, because I wasn’t expecting any of this.

“I’m disappointed,” Marco says. “I was sure you’d either call my bluff or tell me to fuck off.”

My gaze snaps back to him.

“I’m thinking.”

It’s a lame response, but it bides the time.

“The clock is ticking, but we can weigh the options. I don’t need the whole twenty minutes to get you moaning.” Still leaning close, he cocks his head to the side. “Five minutes should do.”

A smile forms on my lips.

“You’re cocky.”

“And you’re stalling.”

“Observant too.”

“What can I say, I’m a catch.”

Yeah, he is.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I stare at him for a beat. Just as I’m about to respond and tell him he’s got two minutes, not five, my cell phone rings. I peel my eyes from Marco and twist around to pull my phone from my leather jacket that’s draped over the back of the chair. Pulling it out, I turn it over and cringe when I see my father’s number.

“Shit,” I hiss.

I forgot all about our dinner plans.

Silencing the call, I regretfully turn back to Marco.

“I’m so sorry, but I have to go.” Pushing back my chair, I quickly rise and pull my jacket on. “I have this thing…and I completely forgot. I…” I stop rambling when he stands. “What are you doing?”

Ignoring my question, he looks toward the kitchen.

“Luigi! Make the order to go,” he shouts to the sweet old man. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a few bills and tucks them between the salt and pepper shakers. He lifts his head and continues, “I’ll take you back to your bike.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Of course I don’t,” he says evenly. “But I’m going to anyway and you’re going to give me your number so we can do this the right way. Without any interruptions.”

“You’re not going to ask where I have to be?”

“No. It doesn’t matter to me because I know no matter where you go and what you do, you’ll be wishing you were locked in a bathroom with me for five minutes.”

He leaves me standing beside the table and disappears into the kitchen. A minute later he returns with two brown paper bags. Offering me one, he gently touches his free hand to the small of my back before nodding toward the door.

Yeah, Marco Pirelli is definitely not the norm for me.

He’s the guy you hope sticks.

Too bad a girl like me can never keep a guy like him.

Chapter Ten

Antonia

“Okay, Antonia, pull it togetherand stop smiling,” I murmur to myself. I can’t walk into the clubhouse with a grin on my face when I’m late to have dinner with my dad, that would just be a slap in the face to him. Besides, I’m not the smiley type. If I walk in there with a shit-eating grin, everyone will ask questions.

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