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He walks to me, settling himself only an inch away. He bends down, putting his hands on either side of me.
“I can clarify what you got right and what you got wrong if you wish.” His breath is on my cheek, adding to the warmth of my body’s desire. “I lied to you and I’m a bad man who does bad things. That you got right.”
My gulp rings out loudly in the room. I shift on my feet, trying to find some sort of escape after being reminded that he isn’t even slightly ashamed of what he does.
“But choosing Jake over me because you thought he was better, nicer or less ruthless.” His pause is accompanied by a low chuckle, mocking my mistakes. His mouth is on the soft skin just below my ear, making me shiver. “That you got all wrong, beautiful.”
“Nathan…” I murmur. A mix of desire and shame overtakes me, forcing my thighs to rub together and squirm under him.
“I’m exhausted, ‘Me. And, today, I don’t have the strength to pretend I don’t want to rip your clothes off and fuck you on this very desk.”
He gathers my hair in one hand and moves it to the other side, clearing my shoulder of it. He drops a soft kiss on the bit of skin where my shoulder meets my neck and hovers there for a few seconds.
“Wh-why are you exhausted?” I ask to get us talking again. My brain needs to find a way to fight the sexual tension.
His head drops completely on my shoulder, burying himself against my neck, inhaling me. He puts his hands on my waist and lifts me up until I’m sitting on the desk. He talks against my skin, like he’s enchanted by my scent.
“I’ve just been busy. Bianco is on my back constantly and—” he stops himself short, pulls away, and his brows furrow as if just realizing he said too much.
“Are you okay?” I check. He seems anything but okay. A little too tired, a little too tense.
“Better than okay, I’m with my favorite girl on my day off. What more could I want?”
“I should have known gangsters always rest on God’s day.”
He laughs heartily. Something that sounds like pure crystal. “I don’t usually take Sundays off.”
“Why today then?”
“It’s my—”
“Birthday,” I cut him off in a whisper as it suddenly comes back to me. March 21st.
“Yeah,” he smiles.
“I’m so sorry, I completely forgot.”
He shrugs. “It’s not that big of a deal. I haven’t celebrated it in years. Since I was declared dead for a full minute and twenty-five seconds actually.”
Aka since Rose shot him.
Still with me between both of his arms, he looks for something on his desk, his hand taping behind me, moving papers around while his face stays close to mine. Finally, he picks up a piece of paper.
“So, that slip,” he mumbles. It’s like a cold shower for me. “Ozy has been pissing me off so much with it I seriously thought of leaving the country.”
Guilt gnaws at me as I remember what I’m here for in the first place. I’m a hypocrite, because I know I didn’t get into his car for Rose. And I didn’t step into his house for Rose. I did it for one simple, senseless reason: I missed our good times together.
“Why don’t you want to sign, Nathan? It’s just a tournament. A four-day tournament. No one’s running away.”
“Really? Do you know Rose? She loves when people look for her.”
“Have you signed Jake’s?”
A smirk appears on his lips, he knows I got him there. He’s being controlling over his sister while he lets his brother do whatever the hell he wants.
“North Shore High couldn’t care less if anyone signs any slip. And I don’t care what Jake gets up to. I have to keep an eye on Rose.”
“No, you don’t,” I start getting defensive. “Everything was fine before you showed up here.”
