Page 4 of The Pretender
“I can do that. This is great, thanks again.”
Deo, watching me closely as he removes his gold watch, seems to have a question on his mind, and if he does, I hope it’s one I’m willing to answer.
“Any chance you’re into guys?”
A smile tugs at my lips. “A hundred percent chance. You?”
He nods subtly as his eyes heat. “Same. What luck. No fragile masculinity damaged tonight by sleeping next to the same gender.”
I laugh at that. “All secure here.”
Deo unbuttons his silky shirt. “I’m a big believer in taking life’s lemons and making a fancy drink with them. You?”
“I’m not exactly sure what that means.”
“Storm, delayed flight. Lemons. Stuck overnight in a hotel room with a handsome man? Fancy drink.”
Nodding, I step closer to Deo, noticing how his breath hitches slightly. “I see your point.”
Deo’s chest brushes against mine, and he reaches up to touch my beard. “Be right back. Just want to freshen up real quick.”
“I’ll be right here.”
I watch him walk to the bathroom, his hips swaying as he does. Maybe this night is gonna turn out alright after all.
TWO
amadeo
Have I lost my mind?
Inviting a stranger, albeit a smoking hot one, to stay the night with me is some seriously ho-ish behavior, but if Brogan has taught me anything in our shared time on the planet, it’s that it won’t kill me to be spontaneous. Probably.
Balt doesn’t seem sketchy, but I bet everyone says that about serial killers. He looks like those rich people who try to look casual in their thousand-dollar jogging suits and expensive watches. His thick hair is styled perfectly, his nails manicured. His brown eyes are sultry, with a hint of danger in them, but overall, his face is fucking art. He’s probably not a murderer. Even if he is, he did make a good point. Too many people saw us together, so I’ll live until morning.
I dig my toothbrush out of my overnight bag and get to work as I gaze at my reflection. Tomorrow, assuming we get a flight out, is going to be hard. I’ve never been the best at swallowing my pride, but I’ve run out of better options. I know my family will be happy to see me, but admitting all the ways I’ve failed since I left in a blaze of glory eight years ago is going to be a challenge.
My mom will brush it off while my dad stoically nods with “I told you so” written all over his face. My nonna will pinch my cheeks and offer to make me food. My brothers, Nantes and Guiliano, the doctor and lawyer respectively, will tease me relentlessly once out of earshot of our folks, and my cousin Brogan will be the one person who tries to make me feel better about it all. Brogan’s been with me through it all, supporting me verbally from a distance and in person a couple of times a year. I’ve been with them through their transition and breaking the news to the family that the cute little girl with big eyes and bouncy curls was a boy all along.
After rinsing my mouth out, I drag my damp hands through my hair, then exit the bathroom. Balt is standing by the windows, gazing out into the snowy darkness. I join him, smiling as he glances at me.
“There’s something peaceful about snow falling at night,” he says.
“I agree.” I rest my hands on the cool marble windowsill. “Where my folks live, it’s really beautiful when it snows. The house is set back from the road and there’s some wildlife around.”
“It’s in the country?”
“No, actually, just a good bit of land, but it’s only five minutes to the center of town. It’s nothing like the city, of course, but you can’t grow grapevines on asphalt.”
Balt turns to face me. “Grapevines?”
I nod. “The family business. We own Robin’s Grove Winery.”
He nods. “Oh right, you mentioned that earlier. That’s interesting work.”
“Guess so. The business is struggling right now. I figured I could help with my business experience.”
Balt crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the windowsill. “What kind of struggle?”
