Page 19 of Hidden Ties (Made Men #11)

FIFTEEN

MAKING ME SUICIDAL

“ W ake up.”

The feeling of something being thrown down on her, along with his voice, had Valerie jolting up in the bed awake.

Dammit! Quickly covering up her exposed breasts, she had forgotten she was bare-ass naked on Sal’s bed. When more memories of last night flooded her foggy brain, she wanted to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment.

Trying to cover up more of her flesh with the sheet, she wasn’t sure why it mattered much considering the man fully dressed and staring at her wide-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning had been sucking on her nipples for half the night.

Her modesty hadn’t just been thrown out the window, it had been tossed out and run over by an armored truck twenty-seven times.

She picked up the items that had been thrown on her with her free hand. “What is this?”

“Clothes,” he stated the obvious.

“Yeah, I know that,” she grumbled, revealing more of them only for her stomach to feel somehow even sicker than she already did after remembering absolutely everything that had conspired between them last night.

She was pretty sure a Nintendo 64 had never led to anything like that before. “But they’re girl clothes …”

“Right. Well, I’m going to make some breakfast.” Sal moved right past her statement. “So, hurry up and get dressed.”

“Damn, give a girl a chance to wake up before you start ordering her around like a sergeant.” She cursed weakly under her breath, so she was sure he could hear as he walked away.

Who the hell does he think he is? And why was he acting so cold to her?

I’m not the one who sent out an invitation to fuck. He was the one who pulled his shirt off before ripping off hers. Not the other way around, buddy!

Going into his private bathroom upstairs, she quickly used the bathroom and rinsed off last night’s sins before putting on the clothes he had given her.

“Oh no, no, no,” she cried when the black jeans clung to her like a second pair of skin. By the time she put on the breast-hugging black top, she was officially certain that, without a doubt, she had fucked a man with a girlfriend and now she was wearing the poor girl’s clothes.

If it was at all possible, Valerie would kick her own ass with her bat if she could. “I’m so going to hell.”

Using his mouthwash that sat on his bathroom counter, she made sure to burn her mouth for as long as she could stand it as punishment for her crimes.

When she left the bathroom and began feeling suffocated from the restricting clothes, she decided to go into Sal’s closet real quick, preferring to wear something of his.

Big, baggy boy clothes were definitely more her speed.

But, of course, she could only see suits hanging up that mostly varied in different navy blue hues.

Shockingly, he didn’t even have that many, with them only taking up about one-third of the closet.

It gave her slight hope that maybe she didn’t fuck a man with a girlfriend or perhaps she had recently moved out and now held the title of being an ex -girlfriend.

Because he’s a cheater!

She was about to start looking through drawers, when she heard her name being yelled out.

“Valerie! Breakfast is ready. Get down here!”

Fuck! Internally cursing, she knew she had run out of time, and this was what she was stuck in until she could get a few things from her house.

She stomped off and down the steps; the smell of pancakes did slightly lighten her mood.

“I’m not that good of a cook,” he said, placing a plate of pancakes with fruit down in front of her. “But I have learned to cook some things that don’t come out of a bag … or a wrapper.”

Her eyes began to turn into slits at his dig, but they quickly grew to normal size when the syrup was set down in front of her.

After glazing her pancakes in the sugary goodness, she took a bite.

It was the best thing she’d had eaten in a long while.

“Who taught you how to make these?” she asked after swallowing her third huge bite.

Sal, who sat down beside her at the counter, began eating his own helping. “He didn’t teach me, really, but I have seen Lucca make them enough times. The secret is a hint of vanill—”

Valerie practically choked to death as she took her fourth bite. “Lucca?” she repeated in disbelief, thinking there was no way she’d heard him correctly. She had to take a sip of the orange juice he had poured out for them to get the lodged piece down.

“Yes.” He laughed, understanding her confusion. “He is a surprisingly good cook. Very picky about his food, though … among other things.”

“Lucca? The Lucca? The Boogieman? Are you sure we’re talking about the same person?” She had to be sure, and then her brain finally went back to the other part of his statement that might be somehow more shocking. “Wait—how have you seen him make pancakes so many times?”

Sal took an awfully long time to swallow his bite. “It’s complicated.”

“ It’s complicated ? Jesus Christ, you gotta give me something here. You can’t be making these impossible-to-believe statements and expect me to just walk right past them.”

“Sure, I can,” Sal said, getting up to place his dishes in the sink. “It’s time to go.”

“Damn.” Watching him rinse the dishes real quick and wave her over to bring her dishes, too, she couldn’t help herself. “Did he make you anal about being so tidy and rushing to be on time, too?”

“Valerie, I think that’s just called being an adult.”

Oh, fuck off, mother—

Fuck, she looks good.

Much preferring her in these clothes, he walked slightly behind her down the hall so he could stare at her ass. Not like he hadn’t gotten enough of that view last night, but so what? He was just a man, after all.

The dirty but colorful sneakers that were unfortunately hers that he couldn’t get rid of were throwing his fantasy off a bit, but he’d take what he could get … for now. Those, he planned to throw off the top of the building next.

It was no wonder Valerie had been a virgin.

She had hidden herself under those outrageously baggy clothes that practically warded off every man in a five-hundred-foot radius.

Her face, however, couldn’t be dulled by the distraction of her clothes.

That was the first thing he had actually noticed about her—the feminine soft beauty of it juxtaposed her usual attire, somehow making her beauty that much more astonishing.

But, unfortunately, most men didn’t appreciate a good face with freckles.

They only appreciated what was under the clothes.

Adjusting her shirt because it kept rising up her midriff, she cursed under her breath like she always did. “When are we going back to the house? I need to get a few things if I’m going to stay here for a while. These clothes are killing me.”

In that moment, as she pulled her shirt down lower, it only exchanged the view of her exposed stomach to reveal more of her breasts. That was when he contemplated burning her house down and every scrap of clothing she owned.

Never.

Walking behind Sal into what appeared to be another office, she grew nervous at the unknown.

Figuring it was about finding a job here, she couldn’t help but feel self-conscious in how she looked.

While she dressed like a boy in her usual day-to-day life, she did at least wear business attire to work.

Looking professional was the only way a girl could be treated fairly in her male-dominated field.

Not to mention she also hated how she hadn’t been able to afford to dye her hair lately.

Every two weeks on the dot, she freshly box-dyed her hair a blue black, but recently, with every wash, it turned a more denim blue.

In college, she dyed it every color in the rainbow and sometimes all at once, but once she’d gotten her first big-girl job, sadly, the fun colors had to go.

The blueish-black shade had at least made her feel more herself, even if it was just a hint of blue in the sun.

It would always make her feel special when the blue would shine more.

So, while she loved the color her hair was fading into, she knew it would have to go if she got a job here.

Looking down at herself quickly, Valerie would have at least preferred wearing her clothes from yesterday—she didn’t care if they had already been worn—but she could only spot her shoes before they’d left his place, having not seen her other clothes … or her bat, now that she thought about it.

When they were greeted by a beautiful woman with baby-pink hair, she instantly relaxed, feeling right at home. Oh, thank God, someone normal!

The perks of being in the mafia were really starting to rack up at this point.

“Hi, I’m Katarina,” she introduced herself with a smile. “But you can call me Kat.”

“You’re Sal’s sister?” She was taken aback by another surprise; never would she have guessed that the two were related. Kat looked so … cool , while Sal had such a stick up his ass.

“Yes.” She laughed, figuring she couldn’t see the family resemblance. “My brother has told me a lot about you, Valerie. So, it’s nice to put a face to the name.”

Oh, I’m sure he did. Knowing Sal, he probably had a lot to say about her. She figured she should be embarrassed, but his sister wasn’t at all making her feel like she should. In fact, she seemed to love that Valerie was a pain in his ass. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

“I’m glad my clothes worked out for you,” Kat said, eyeing her approvingly.

“Oh!” Valerie took a breath of relief to at least not be meeting Sal’s sister in his girlfriend’s clothes.

It made her feel like she was slightly less of a home wrecker, which was good.

“They’re your clothes. I see it now,” she said, pointing back and forth at their attire.

Kat, too, was wearing tight jeans and a top.

Valerie only wished Sal would have bothered taking a cool leather jacket out of her closet, too. “I love your jacket.”

“Thanks. I offered Sal to give you—”