Page 20 of Indulging Temptation (Tempting the Heart #1)

LORENA

T he workday went by seamlessly, albeit seamless and a tad boring.

I was able to get some administrative tasks done as well as making a whole bunch of lists that Tino will likely roll his eyes at, but he’ll thank me for in the long run.

I even managed to secure an interview for later this summer thanks to my connections at the Lifestyle Now Network.

I hope by the time the interview rolls around, he will have changed his mind about the cookbook thing, but if not, it’ll be a great opportunity to talk about Cielo + Cibo.

I hate to admit it, as much as I was dreading working together, I can’t deny how Tino’s presence at the restaurant today was missed. Or that I missed having him around… and to look at.

Though I understand why he couldn’t be here today, and I am in full support of his decision to be at his niece’s pre-school concert.

Since his and Dante’s brother Emilio passed, it’s been hard on his ex, Gabriella, juggling work and mom life alone.

So having Luci’s uncles there to support her and attend school events that her father is sadly missing, means the world to both Gabriella and Luci.

As if she can read my mind, my phone vibrates with a text from Gabriella.

Gabriella: So…I saw Tino today…

Me: I know, he mentioned he was going to Luci’s concert. How was it?

Gabriella: Like every other pre-school concert. Adorable and out of tune

Me: Aww stop

Gabriella: Never. My ears are still recovering, but Luci was thrilled to have her uncle Tino there

Me: And Dante…can’t forget him

Gabriella: Yep

Gabriella: ANYWAY… Tino was very eager to get back to the city. He seems reinvigorated lately. Wonder why that is?

Me: No clue. It’s Tino. Do we ever really know what’s going on in that head of his?

Gabriella: True. He’s a tough one to read…

Gabriella: … but not when it comes to you

I end our text thread with a double tap on her last message, liking it, not having the energy to respond, in fear that it’ll open a can of worms. My mood is already shot to shit having to meet Owen tonight. Thankfully it’s the last time I’ll have to deal with him.

Sarina wasn’t off base calling me ‘Hit it and quit it Lo’ the other day . The second that things start to feel like they may turn into something, I do what I default to when I can’t deal with something…I ghost.

After witnessing the depression my mom fell into after my dad died, and how she lost a part of herself that I’ve yet to see fully come back, it’s made me become avoidant of relationships.

Fearful of making true, meaningful connections outside of the few friendships I have.

It’s always felt easier that way. Safer.

At least this way if I don’t allow anyone into my heart, when life does what it does best — continue on without giving a shit about who it leaves behind — I won’t be left broken or hurt.

Which brings me to where I am now, standing outside of Hummingbirds, of all places, waiting for my soon to be ex fuck buddy, Owen.

I don’t know why I chose here of all the bars in the city to meet him at.

I already know the second Dante spots us, his head will be swirling with assumptions of what me and Owen are.

And it won’t be long after that he’ll tell my brother and his that I’m out with someone.

Then I’ll have to come up with some response that comes off neutral without making it sound like it’s all about sex…

like it actually is. Or was, in Owen’s case.

Truthfully, he’s a ride I’m anxious to retire.

I knew our time hooking up was coming to an end, but once I moved back to the city, that became solidified for me.

The neon sign of Hummingbirds burns into my periphery as I stand shifting my weight onto my tiptoes then back onto my heels, wobbling a bit each time I do.

I’m too uncoordinated to be standing like this, let alone in four-inch heels.

I’ve tripped on air before…barefoot. But I’m stubborn, nothing will stop me from wearing these Valentino studded heels that I worked hard to buy for myself.

Besides, rocking back and forth on these trip hazards disguised as high heels is the only thing that I can think to do right now that’ll help work off my nervous energy.

It’s that or weed, and since Tino isn’t here to give me some, that’s out of the question.

Fuck.

Tino.

I shake my head, trying to push the thought of him aside. It doesn’t work. The more I try not to think about him, the more I do.

While I wait for Owen to get here, I slip my phone back into my purse, exchanging it for my lipstick and small compact.

The glow of the neon sign provides enough light for me to swipe the fuchsia shade onto my lips.

Though, as I do, I can’t help but think of what Tino said to me last night when I had on the same lipstick.

“…Since I’m supposed to behave myself. Besides, I don’t think your brother would appreciate overhearing me say how seeing that color on your lips makes me feel. Or what I want to do to take it off you, and transfer it onto me.”

I become lost in the memory. His voice is still rich within my mind as if he’s standing here in front of me saying it all over again.

Even the smile he flashed while saying it, that caused those dimples of his to poke through his stubble, feels contagious.

I can’t help but smile reminiscing about it.

But the moment is cut short when I feel Owen’s hand on my shoulder as he pulls me in for an awkward side hug.

“Aw, it’s good to see you too,” he says, likely assuming the smile plastered on my face is for him, when it’s not. And to make matters worse, he places an unwanted kiss on the top of my head. He never does that. In fact, I can count on my hand the number of times we’ve kissed.

Never.

That’s my rule when it comes to hook-ups, unless I initiate a kiss — which I have yet to do with him — it’s just a physical exchange of getting each other off and that’s it. Kissing makes things too intimate, and I don’t want intimate. I want to get off and be left alone after. That’s it.

I’m about to ask how he’s doing, but the sudden grimace on his face stops me. “Lipstick?” he asks, staring at it like I just applied poison to my lips.

My tongue swipes between my lips. “What gave it away?” I widen my eyes to go along with my sarcasm, but the disdain only increases on his face and in his voice.

“I told you I hate that shit. Same way I hate that glossy, sticky stuff.”

“You mean lip gloss?”

“Yeah, whatever it’s called. It gets all over the damn place.

” Owen gestures at his dick, unknowingly laying the final nail in his coffin.

Technically, I should leave and end it right now, but I’m hungry and in dire need of a drink or two, and what better way to end things and satisfy my needs than by the courtesy of his wallet.

I hope wherever we go after we have drinks has wagyu or lobster. I feel like going out with an expensive bang.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t realize you were particular on how the lips of the person sucking your cock should be,” I say through the fakest grin I can muster up.

“Well, at least you know now.”

What a fucking douche bag.

“Yep, what a gift it is to be informed.” I roll my eyes and head to the door to get this shit over with.

Surprisingly, he skips ahead of me to open the door, probably realizing how much of an asshole he is being as he gestures his hand for me to walk ahead of him.

Sugar by Sleep Token fills the bar, and once again, Tino finds his way back into my mind.

This time, I’m picturing where I was sitting with Tomás up at the bar, with a scowl on my face to disguise the nerves I was feeling from having to see him.

This was the song playing when he walked in, and all throughout the bachelorette party practically attacking him the second he did.

He didn’t know I was already watching the door, anticipating his arrival, or how I continued to look his way during the entirety of their brief encounter.

Obviously, they were just flirting with him.

Before Tino got there, I had overheard the bride going on about her ring and how amazing her fiancé is when she and some of her friends had gone up to the bar for drinks prior.

But still, Tino is kind of a big deal, they clearly were enamored by him.

Yet he remained respectful, and from what I observed, completely unfazed and uninterested in their attention.

I lead the way to the two empty seats by the bar. As we sit down, Owen’s mood shifts a bit, softening. “Sorry I was late.”

Of course, that’s what he’s sorry for. Not for acting like a dick. Whatever. In a few short hours, he’ll no longer be my problem.

“No problem,” I answer, painfully aware of not only the disinterest in my voice but how preoccupied I sound, still stuck in my head thinking about Tino.

If anything, the more I look at Owen, the more I wish it were Tino sitting next to me.

Our banter, even when it’s tense, is more playful than the bickering I find me and Owen engage in.

It doesn’t take long for the change in Owen’s demeanor to teeter back to the disgust he had before with the whole lipstick thing. Though this time that object of his disdain appears to be the laminated menu one of the bartenders just dropped off for us.

“Something wrong?” I ask.

“Nothing, it’s just, when I said drinks, I was hoping you’d pick somewhere less…

crowded.” He settles on, not convincing me one bit.

The judgement on his face is obvious. I know bars like Hummingbirds aren’t his scene.

Owen is more of a piano lounge and intimate wine bar type.

He has no appreciation for places like what Dante has created here.

“I chose it because I like it here. Is that okay with you?”

He gives me a barely there nod.

“Good. Did you bring the remote?” I ask.