Page 28 of Blood Money

He laughed. “Not hardly. But if that gives me brownie points, then sure.”

“Something tells me you rarely, if ever, need to worry about brownie points,” I murmured. With his looks and personality, I was sure he had girls falling all over him—girls prettier than me.

“With you I do,” he said so softly, I questioned whether I’d heard him correctly. When I gave him a narrowed-eyed stare, he was studiously scrutinizing a painting as if he hadn’t said a word.

We’d wandered around for about an hour when I started looking around for a bathroom.

“Is there something wrong?” he asked as he glanced around with a furrowed brow.

“No. I just need to go to the bathroom,” I explained.

“Come on,” he instructed as he gently tugged on my hand. We walked a bit more before we saw the sign, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

“I’ll wait for you over there,” he offered, pointing to the wall opposite the bathroom doors.

I nodded as I went in. It seemed like I peed forever, and I cursed the massive coffee I drank before leaving. The caffeine was a necessity because I didn’t sleep for crap due to being so nervous about today. Then we’d been busy before I left, so I’d chugged it down on the way to meet Vittorio.

By the time I finished and washed my hands, I was embarrassed because I was sure he must think I was in here pooping. God, how mortifying.

When I walked out, he was nowhere to be seen. My chest collapsed and drew my shoulders down. “Oh shit. He left me here,” I whispered, covering my mouth. Tears actually welled in my eyes as I leaned against the wall. After blinking them away, I tried to figure out what I should do.

The men’s bathroom door opened, and my breath caught when he walked out. I wanted to laugh at my paranoid self. He stopped in front of me, and I squinted.

“Is your hair wet?” Without thinking, I reached up and touched it. When I did, my fingers brushed the smooth skin of his forehead, and I quietly gasped. He groaned, and his eyes fell shut a moment before he reached up and caught my hand.

“Yeah, sorry. I was getting hot out here, so I splashed some cool water on my face.” But he wouldn’t look me in the eye when he said it, and his voice went weird.

Strained.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and I realized how close we were. Slowly, I lifted my gaze until it clashed with his, and I wet my lips nervously. His eyes were the most amazing blue. Bright as the summer sky, with splashes of midnight that radiated from around his pupils. They glittered like cut crystal, and I couldn’t look away.

He brushed a wild, stray curl off my forehead. “You are so fucking pretty,” he breathed.

I ducked my head. “No, I’m not, but thank you.”

Using the edge of his forefinger, he gently lifted my chin until I was looking at him. “Yes. You. Are,” he insisted before he paused and dragged his teeth over his lip. Then he whispered, “And I wanna kiss you so bad. Can I kiss you, Kendall?”

Unable to speak, and with the blood rushing in my ears, I nodded. God, yes, I wanted him to kiss me more than anything.

As if we were in slow motion, he leaned in, and his perfect mouth tentatively brushed over mine. The shock that jolted through me at that light touch was mind-blowing. Then he did it again, but this time, his lips parted and plucked at my top one until I opened for him.

When the tip of his tongue traced the slight opening, I instinctively gave him what he wanted, and he dipped in, stroking and learning—owning my mouth. The world tilted on its axis as my head spun.

I whimpered, and he reluctantly broke away. As my heart raced, our breaths puffed against our damp lips.

And I knew I was in trouble.

“Away”—BreakingBenjamin

Present Day….

Gabriel had planned to go down to talk to Mrs. Romano, but I told him I would. According to the nurse, she was only supposed to be hospitalized overnight for observation and fluid removal. When I had stopped by that first day, I had sweet-talked a nurse into letting me know what the plan was by telling her I was Mrs. Romano’s grandson.

Oh, the irony.

“You’re positive there’s no one?” I asked Facet. From the back seat, I stared out the window as we traveled through Chicago traffic. I was aware of Dario listening to my conversation from the front passenger seat.

“Not for almost a year,” Facet assured me. Though it was little reassurance, because imagining anyone else touching her did things to me that it shouldn’t. Not that I was surprised, because that was the reason I hadn’t looked into her once since she left almost ten years ago. It would hurt too much to find out she’d moved on. Though I wanted nothing more than her happiness, the thought of that being with someone else burned like battery acid in my stomach.

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