Page 99 of The Man with a Treasure

Now, Sal’s eyes were squinting. As he tried to read me, he slowly nodded. “Just a peck.”

Blinking, I gazed back at her incredibly full lips. Delicious. So suck-able. But they had touched Sal’s without me there. This was against everything I knew… and possibly wanted.

Weakening legs had me stumbling back a few steps, releasing Scarlett’s hand. Once realizing what I had done, I reached out to reconnect with her, but her expression said it all. I had caused her pain.

My cheeks burned and my ears pounded as Sal went to her, saying, “Dove, let me take you to your room so I can talk with Angelo.”

As he lifted her from the counter, setting her on those precious feet, she asked, “Why do I hurt, Sal?” She tapped her chest. “Here,” then tapped her belly, “and here.”

He caringly led her away. “Because you feel rejected. You think Angelo doesn’t want you, but there is nothing further from the truth. I promise…”

He was right. If I hadn’t been frozen in shock, I would’ve been running to her, never wanting her to feel an ounce of pain. But I couldn’t move. Not until Sal returned to me, his hands grasping my face. “Talk to me.”

Blink. Blink. “I… I thought I was jealous of you being around her.”

As if pleased I was finally making sense, he jostled my head and smirked. “No shit, Caveman.”

“No.” Blink. Blink. “Sal, I was jealous to have her around you.”

Now, it was Sal who was stumbling backward. His face was full of shock, like mine. But there was also awareness in his expression, as if I had just slapped him with a truth he hadn’t considered until now.

My heart raced… “You feel the same way, don’t you?”

He grabbed his chest, as if to check to see if he was still breathing, but shook his head no.

I got louder. “Don’t fucking lie to me.” This was all such a shock. The last thing I needed was for my best friend, my brother, to bail on me.

“Just give me a minute!”

I stalked forward as he backed away from me. “Why do you need time, when I can tell that you know I’m right?”

He opened his arms and leaned back, angrily stating, “We are not gay, Angelo fucking Bianchi!”

“Nope,” jabbing a finger in the air toward Scarlett’s room, “because I just wanted to dive into her mouth.”

“See?” He raised his arms higher. “Then everything is fine!”

“But I couldn’t because that mouth had yours. Without my permission.”

His neck stretched forward, eyes widening impossibly larger. “Your what? Have you lost your fucking mind?”

“It appears so,” were the only words I could use to respond.

“When did you sleep last?”

“I haven’t. Now, stop fucking mothering me and tell me if I’m wrong!”

“You’re wrong!” He marched toward the kitchen island. “You sound insane again.”

With my teeth about to shatter under the strain I was forcing on them, I followed. “I feel fucking insane. Trust me, this is the last thing I saw coming.”

“Nothing is coming or happening. You are just buckling under pressure.” He tilted his glass of wine and guzzled.

“That may be so. Let’s test it, shall we?” I started to walk away. Right toward the hallway to Scarlett’s room.

“W-Where are you going?” he yelled from the kitchen.

“Nowhere that should bother you!”