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Montrell’s chin moved on top of her head as he nodded. “I know.”
“It’s never been sexual or anything, but… I don’t know. It filled a need I didn’t want to admit to. Linked me to a person in a way that was hard to shrug off.” Her eyes burned. “You make me feel grounded, less alone. I’ve been struggling without it.” Her eyes dried as she thought about sleeping with Antonio. That hadn’t been sexual either, but it had felt different than Montrell’s presence did now. “I tried to replace it.”
“Did that help?” he asked, still not letting go.
“A little,” she admitted, her words muffled against his chest. “But it’s different.”
Montrell hummed in his throat before he pulled back. His hands cupped her shoulders, the touch warm and soothing. “Di Salvo took a bullet for you.”
Antonio bleeding under her hands was a difficult memory to escape. She nodded as her throat tightened.
“That means something,” Montrell said. “I never expected it of him.”
“Me neither,” she mumbled.
“Would you take a bullet for him?” Montrell searched her face.
Vespa had no idea what he saw there when she didn’t even know the answer. “I’m not sure.”
Montrell’s lips spread in a grin. “Should I pretend to shoot him, and we’ll find out?”
She smacked his chest with her good hand. “Fuck no! He wouldn’t hesitate to shoot you in return, and then I’d have to kill my fuck buddy.”
Her friend’s face went serious. “Think you could?”
“If he went after you?” Vespa snorted. “I wouldn’t hesitate.” She hated the idea of it, though. Alliances were never long-term. That was one reason she hadn’t wanted to sleep with Antonio in the first place. That and the lack of respect she’d expected would follow, but that hadn’t happened. Not yet, anyway.
“You weren’t in your room this morning. Were you with Di Salvo?”
She sighed and nodded.
Montrell searched her eyes. “You like him.”
She frowned, wishing her thoughts weren’t full of the man. “He’s not who I thought he was.”
Montrell chuckled. “You thought he was an asshole, so I’d hope not.”
“I’m not in love with him,” Vespa said. Saying the words out loud made her stomach feel squirrelly.
“Maybe not, but Ves, would you even recognize it if you were?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not an idiot.”
“You don’t tend to think too hard about anything.”
She scowled at her friend. “Like you’re one to talk.”
“True. I guess it’s not strange I ended up with an overthinker.”
They grinned at each other.
Montrell’s head tilted. “Antonio is an overthinker too.”
“Ugh, stop. Will you let it go if I admit I like being around him?” She fiddled with the strap of her sling. It still felt off, as it had ever since she’d crawled around the warehouse trying not to get shot.
“No need to admit to anything you’re not ready for.” Montrell’s fingers brushed over the soiled fabric of her sling. “This thing is a mess. You should change it out.”
“Yeah. I was going to stop by the bathroom with all the medical supplies and grab a new one.”
