Page 118 of When We Fall: Part One

“Jerking off in the laundry room.” He ran his fingers through his hair quickly before doing his pants up.

I snorted at him. “What? Why?”

“Well, I was trying to save Rosalie the job of getting me off today. Did you even see what she’s wearing? My dick is going to be hard all day.”

“Man, it’s just a regular dress.”

“And she’s in it.” He glanced at me. “Her tits look so damn good.” He let out a groan. “Enzo has been hogging her lately. And I’ve been busy when he’s not.” His expression grew sour. “I haven’t been laid in days, Fox.Days.Do you know what that’s like?”

“Apparently, bad? You can’t handle going a few days without getting laid?”

“No. I can’t,” he muttered, smoothing down his shirt. “Pointless self-abuse with my dick is my thing lately.”

I shook my head at him. “I’m sure you only need to make it through the weekend, and things will die down. Then you can be with her.”

“I’m not going to make it through the day,” he said, his blue eyes fixed on her as she walked back into the kitchen, Enzo’s arm around her waist. “Yeah, I’m toast.”

“Mr. and Mrs. De Luca,” he called out as if he weren’t talking about his cock a second ago. He grinned and strode forward to greet them.

“Cole,” Anthony said gruffly, pulling him in for a hug. “No need for formalities. You’re like a son to us.” He pulled away and surveyed Cole, his dark eyes twinkling. “You’ve done so much to help us.”

I knewuswas the syndicate. I hated that we’d even come to this part of our lives. It didn’t seem to matter. It always came back to this mob bullshit I was completely over. Going through the motions and hoping it panned out was the name of the game right now, but I already knew I was out the moment shit went too far. I could endure. Rosalie shouldn’t have to. It would be my way of saving her since I knew the guys would never let her go without one of us fucking dying for it.

I shook the ugly thoughts out of my head and greeted Anthony.

“Fox.” He hugged me tightly.

“How are you doing, Anthony?” I asked.

He smiled at me. “I’m well. How have you been?”

“I’m good. Busy.”

He clapped me on the back. “Football. So many accomplishments. I bet your dad is proud.”

“He is.” The truth of the matter was that I hadn’t spoken much to my father since I found out our family secret of him being a De Santis.

My father, the carpenter, was a former enforcer for the mob. An heir. A runaway. The reason my mom was dead.

Well, not entirely. I knew how much my dad loved my mom. She was his whole world. He left the mob life so he could have his family and life. Where it got him was nowhere good, though, because now Mom was gone, and I was in deep.

In all the years I’d known Enzo, our fathers had never met or spoken. I now knew why. My father had even asked me several times not to be friends with Enzo, citing ridiculous things like he was in trouble too much and basic parental complaints. At least, that’s what I always thought they were.

Now I knew.

He’d given up on it sometime during our junior year, though, so I assumed he’d just gotten over it. And maybe he had, but it didn’t change shit. He should have told me long ago what was going on.

I was still pissed over it.

And hurt.

Had I known…

“What’s wrong?” Rosalie murmured, pulling me from my thoughts.

I forced a smile onto my face and kissed her temple. “Nothing, baby.”

She crinkled her brows as she stared up at me, not buying the shit I was selling. I didn’t dwell on it because Marissa came to greet me.