Page 59 of My Mafia Queen

I shrug.

“I had no idea. I’d never met someone like you. I mean…”

His forefinger goes up before I finish.

“Please don’t say I reminded you of your ex when you met me.”

The shred of humor in his words makes me laugh.

“It never crossed my mind.”

“Good,” he says, while my smile fades.

“I thought you were hard to live with.”

“I am hard to live with.”

“Maybe. But that’s not the whole story,” I say, and he observes me, thoughtful. “Am I right?”

“Perhaps,” he says with no inflection in his voice.

I muse over my next question while he evades my eyes, preoccupied with something else.

“How were you at my age?” I ask,

Our eyes connect.

“Eighteen? Nineteen?”

“Mm-hmm.”

He seems surprised but answers quickly, like he has nothing to hide.

“I was like any other boy. I was in school, played sports, and liked girls.”

“Had plans for the future?”

He opens his mouth to answer but hesitates, moving his eyes over my face as if reaching deep into his memory.

“No, not really.”

I have a feeling he’s not honest.

“Why are you asking?” he murmurs.

“I have plans for the future. I’ve always had.”

“What were your plans when you were younger?” he asks quietly, curious and fascinated.

“I wanted to grow up fast and control my life.”

“Most teens want that.”

I bite my lip.

“You know the rest,” I murmur. “I want to be safe and protect my little sister.”

“You’re safe with me.”

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