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“You know that men are pretty oblivious when it comes to things like that,” she finally says. “What if she wasn’t a redhead when you were dating her?”
“I guess that’s possible,” I agree. “But honestly? I can’t imagine a woman being so obsessed with me that she’d pull all these stunts to get me back years later.”
“I would have,” she says softly, laughing to cover her awkwardness. She leans up on her elbow and gives me thesoftest brush of a kiss. Her hair hangs over us like a canopy, shielding us from the big, bad world.
“But you didn’t,” I whisper, brushing her lower lip with my thumb.
“And I live with that every day.”
Tears slide down her face, and she brushes them away angrily, frustrated at having shown emotion.
I know what her father is like. I know what that entire family is like. She’s had to keep it locked up for years, festering inside her, making her bitter.
“It’s okay, Lenny,” I whisper gently, pulling her down to my chest. “You can cry.”
She fights it for a few seconds, assuring me she’s fine, but eventually gives in. Her sobs echo through the silent room, and my heart breaks for her.
Our “breakup” was difficult for me too, but at least I knew why I left—she’s been living in the dark for almost six years.
“I’m sorry,” she finally groans, wiping her glistening face. “It’s just so much happening at once… you, and then The8, and I’m so worried about Matilda… and just overwhelmed.”
“I get it, Lenny,” I soothe, stroking her hair. “Besides, tears turn me on.”
I wiggle my eyebrows at her, and she snorts out a laugh, punching me in the shoulder.
“Stop,” she wails, flopping back down on the bed.
“Something about a father who never let me cry,” I start philosophizing. “Daddy issues, Freud would say. Or is it mommy issues?”
“Enzo, I swear to?—”
I don’t let her finish that sentence. With one smooth move, I lean over and capture her lips, soft at first. When she moans and grinds her hips into me, I let go of all control.
I’ve waited six years to see her again. No redhead, bastard mafia father, or whatever else the universe throws at us will take her from me now.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Valentina
There’s no betterfeeling in the world than being pinned under Enzo Cavalli’s strong, hard body as he trails kisses down your neck.Okay, no wait, maybe when he does that tongue thing to my nipples.
I melt as he runs his hands and lips over every inch of my body. With the stress of everything going on, this deep feeling of relaxation—of every trouble floating away—is so tempting.
Just as Enzo’s tongue finally snakes between my thighs, a wave of guilt hits me, and I sit up.
Confused, he moves aside and peers into my face, his breathing ragged. I study his face, so familiar yet so foreign to me now.
What am I even doing right now? Crazy people are threatening my life, and my daughter’s, and I’m here trying to get kicks with my ex?
“Enzo, I can’t,” I whisper, feeling even more guilty because I can, and I want to, but something’s blocking me.
“Lenny, it’s okay,” he whispers, sitting up and pulling me against his chest. I nuzzle into it, feeling his heart hammer like he’s running a marathon. “You had a rough day. I shouldn’t have started this. I’m sorry.”
Something about his genuine care and concern lights a fire under me, and I glance up, angry. “Don’t you dare apologize, Enzo Cavalli!”
“Wait, what?” he sits up, confused. “I’m sorry? Or I’m not sorry? I mean, I am sorry, genuinely?—”
“Shut up,” I cry, straddling him and crushing his lips in a deranged, passionate kiss. When I pull away, Enzo looks like he might make a run for it.