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They narrow their eyes, bright blue darkening to a stormy cobalt. “Admit it, Zarina.”
“Pat,” I warn.
They raise the pillow above their head.
“Don’t you dare.”
“Admit,” they say through grinding teeth, “it.”
I throw up my hands. “Oh my god, fine! I want Tamayo to fuck me!”
A knock echoes across the still-open door, and I lurchforward, yanking the pillow back at the same time I shove Pat away from the bed. They stumble with their face stuck between a smirk and grimace. I jump from the bed and wind my arm back, pillow heavy in my hands.
“Princess?” Tamayo calls, still standing in the wide-fucking-open doorway.
“What?” I snap, because it’s less embarrassing this way.
“Can I have your ear for a moment?” she asks like I didn’t justscreamthat I want her to fuck me.
I twitch my arm, and Pat doesn’t even flinch. “Only if coffee’s involved.”
“Join me in the kitchen.” Tamayo turns on her heel and leaves me behind.
I drop the pillow and stick my tongue out at Pat. “Use your own shower, heathen.”
They pout, their eyes wide and lip heavy. “But yours has better pressure.”
“Whatever.” I pull the door shut harder than necessary.
Tamayo’s already halfway down the stairs as I follow her, still dressed in my pajamas. At least this time I have shorts on under Darius’s oversize shirt. When I enter the kitchen, Tamayo’s sliding a mug of coffee with a dash of oat milk across the island toward me. I hold it between my hands, the smell nutty and wonderful.
Tamayo leans her hip against the counter. “I was?—”
I hold up a finger, taking my first drink and savoring the taste. Coffee isn’t a jolt for me, the caffeine not often affecting me. No, for me it’s the taste. It’s the routine of waking up and enjoying a moment without the rush of the day bearing down on me. Tamayo bites her lip like she’s clamping down on a smile, something soft in her brown eyes. I don’t try to translate it for once. I simply enjoy my coffee for as long she’ll let me.
She’s dressed more casual today in jeans and a plain whitetee. I wonder if she plans to stay on the compound, leave the business to her capos rather than pull on her suit of armor to deal with it herself. Her hair is swept to one side, revealing her undercut. Soft. She looks soft.
“Can I speak yet?” she asks, voice quiet as if to protect the moment.
I hum for her to continue.
“When I spoke with Jimmy last night,” she says, “he mentioned the expectation of an engagement party?”
I sigh, the familiar frustration of the dons being up each other’s assholes rolling through me. “I was hoping we could put it off until we break up.”
Tamayo purses her lips. “That might’ve worked if I hadn’t told him and Logan invitations are going out this week.”
“Damnit.” I rest my chin on my mug. It’s not Tamayo’s fault, even if I’d really like to blame her for it. These gossipy old men don’t know how to keep their big, stupid noses to themselves. “If they were asking about it, waiting wouldn’t have worked. Not with an engagement as contentious and scrutinized as ours.”
“Almost like they think it’s fake,” she teases.
“Weird, right?” I snort.
We smile to ourselves. Tamayo’s staring out the wall of windows into the shared backyard, and I’m staring into my coffee like it’s tea leaves that can show me the shape of my future. There’s no avoiding it now. Not if Tamayo said the invitations are going out this week. It’s Thursday. The week is basically over.
I chew my lip. I want them off our backs as quickly as possible. I know Tamayo’s taking the brunt of the backlash. I know the Accardis and my parents aren’t as quiet as they seem. The sooner we confirm our engagement, the more time I’ll have with my laptop.
I set my mug on the counter. “Two Saturdays from now.”