Gian (Trassato Crime Family #1)(47)

I stormed out the bathroom, flinging open the door with enough force that it banged against the doorstop with loud bang.

“What the f*ck is this?” I held up her phone, flashing the screen toward her.

She scrambled out of the bed, her eyes wide, her ponytail seesawing. She held her hands up in surrender, slinking backward until she collided with the wall. “It’s not a big deal. I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you. You don’t have any right to be mad.”

“Are you saying I should be happy that you go running when your ex snaps his fingers?”

She toyed the hem of her emerald green nightie. “I can explain.”

I stalked closer to her, my hand squeezing tighter and tighter around her phone with every step. “Then start talking.”

Evie lowered her lashes. She looked so prim, so innocent and easily broken, my heart tripped inside my chest.

“He’s been hounding me to talk to him for more than a week, and I keep ignoring him. He was waiting for me when I came out of the dance studio today.”

“You could’ve kept walking. You don’t owe him a damn thing. He cheated on you, not the other way around.”

“I know, but he held up that juice I like so much, and I didn’t want to be mean to him.”

“He got you bottle of juice. A f*cking bottle of juice and you invite him back into your life like nothing happened?” I slammed my hands against the wall next to her head, caging her between my arms. The screen of her phone cracked, and I tossed it on top of the bed. “Are you going to pack your bags and move back in with him now that he’s no longer f*cking that woman? This was a fun detour, but now you’re ready to hop beds again. You don’t like to waste time do you?”

Evie blinked and crystal-like tears squeezed from the corners of her eyes. Regret swelled inside my chest, but the distrust and adrenaline surging through me prevented me from backing down. I wouldn’t tolerate being played by her or anyone else.

“How do you know he’s not with her anymore?” she whispered, her dark eyes like pools of ink.

I leaned my hips into hers, and like someone had flipped a switch, I burned for her. It pissed me off as much as it excited me. “It’s my job to know!” I yelled.

Sighing, she wiped her hand down the side of her face. “Look, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to hear his side of the story. But I swear, that’s it. I don’t have any intention of getting back together with him. Ever. I won’t get caught up in his bullshit lies again. I’ve closed the door on that part of my life.”

“Then why the games?”

She licked her lips, drawing every ounce of my attention to her perfect cupid’s bow. I bit back a groan. Her lips were stunning. Not too full to overshadow the delicate symmetry of her face, yet plump enough that they gave me all kinds of lewd ideas. They reminded me of that pink saltwater taffy shit I couldn’t get enough of as a kid.

She curled her hand around the front of my shirt like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to push me away or pull me closer. “I don’t know what you mean by games.”

I ran my nose along her swan-like neck, breathing her in, searing her jasmine scent into my soul. “You told him we were friends.” I grazed the shell of her ear with my teeth. “Friends. Friends who f*ck. Friends who share a bed every night. Friends passing time until somebody better comes along. Is that what you think we are? Is that it?”

“No.” She raised her chin. “Actually, you know what? I don’t have any clue what we are. You’ve never bothered to explain anything. As a matter of fact, you’ve flat out refused to discuss what any of this means on more than one occasion. Should I take a leap of faith and assume I’m more than I’m a convenient f*ck? Because from where I’m standing, you haven’t given me any indication that I mean anything to you.”

“Convenient?” I laughed darkly. “There’s nothing about you that’s convenient. If my only goal was blowing off steam, I’d have plenty of options at the club who don’t come with a million and one complications. And you can bet your sweet ass they wouldn’t be best friends with my sister.”

“Then tell me what this is, Gian, because I’m tired of pretending. I need to know if you feel anything. I can’t keep doing this when I feel so…”

My shoulders tensed. Her unfinished thought hung in the air, creating a noxious cocktail of expectation and apprehension. When it was evident she didn’t intend to continue, I decided to show her rather than tell her what I felt. Words held too much power, and I didn’t think either one of us was ready to chisel our feelings in stone. We had too many hurdles to get over first.

I cupped her face, drowning in the familiar pull of her chocolate eyes. “I know. I know.”

Dropping my hands to her waist, I claimed her mouth. Her breath caught, and her back arched. I loved the way she melted into me every damn time I touched her. It was exhilarating. Intoxicating. Addictive.

A yelp tumbled from her mouth when I lifted her up in the air, cradling her in my arms. Her fingers clawed at my shoulders, clinging to me as I set her on the top of the dresser.

I unknotted my tie and yanked on one end, the sound cutting through the air like a knife. The silky material dangled from my calloused fingertips.

“Do you trust me?”