Vendetta (Blood for Blood #1)(36)
I felt myself blush. When he put it like that, it did seem pretty stupid. “I just don’t like to feel like I’m out of the loop about something.”
“Try being the youngest of five brothers.”
We walked on, our hands swinging side by side, almost touching, as rows of beautiful homes on tree-lined streets bled into smaller, boxy houses along cramped, gridlike blocks.
“So you don’t mind having an escort home again?” he asked, following my lead as I crossed a deserted intersection.
“No.” I felt shy looking up at Nic in the moonlight. There was something about the way his eyes were shining, or how his hair was falling in waves, curling beneath his ears, that made my mouth dry.
“I wanted to make sure you weren’t upset about earlier. I know Valentino was rude, but he was probably just trying to save you from the Felice train wreck.”
I waved my hand in the air dismissively, even though I felt relieved by his explanation. “I’ll get over it.”
“Good.”
“Speaking of Valentino,” I said, letting my curiosity take over, “can I ask what happened to him?”
“You mean why he’s in a wheelchair?”
“Well, yeah,” I replied, looking at my shoes. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
Nic didn’t seem affronted, and I exhaled quietly in relief. “I take it you’ve realized that he and Luca are twins,” he said. I nodded. “Well, when my mother was pregnant with them, Luca’s position in the womb put pressure on the lower half of Valentino’s body. He couldn’t move properly, his legs became tangled in bands of the amniotic membrane, and when he was delivered he had what they called a ‘skeletal limb abnormality.’ His right leg was completely crushed and turned in at the hip. The doctors operated on him when he was a kid, but the leg never developed the right way after that. He can walk for short distances with a cane, but he prefers to use the chair.”
“Has it made him resentful of Luca?” I wondered.
Nic shrugged. “I think he’s just glad Luca didn’t decide to eat him in there.” He chuckled at my shocked expression. “His words, not mine,” he clarified. “I don’t think he resents Luca. Valentino has always been the most intelligent of all of us. He has the most creative mind, and understands people really well — a whole lot better than Luca. They’re so close that sometimes it feels like they’re the same person. They agree on everything, and if you decide to argue with one, then you’re arguing with both, and they will steamroll you before you can even think straight.” He paused for a second, losing himself in a memory that made him smile. I watched him carefully, trying to figure out what was unraveling inside his head. “I think Luca has always felt guilty about the opportunities he has, but Valentino isn’t a victim. They’d die for each other.”
“Wow,” I said, feeling a familiar sense of loneliness for the siblings I would never have. “Must be nice to have that kind of bond.”
“I think everyone can have that bond with someone,” Nic said quietly. “Isn’t that the whole point of living?”
“I hope you’re right.” I studied my nails to keep from burning up under his gaze.
Nic stopped walking, and I stopped, too. “I am right,” he said resolutely.
I looked at him again, shyly, and before the nerves inside me could bubble up and psyche me out completely, I blurted out, “So there’s this party at Millie’s on Saturday, and pretty much everyone is welcome, so I thought maybe you might want to come if you’re not doing anything?”
Nic raised his eyebrows — whether it was at the sheer speed of my invitation or the actual meaning of it, I wasn’t sure. “And I take it her charming brother will be there?”
I inhaled through my teeth. “Yes, but you’re definitely still welcome, if that’s what you’re worried about. They made a rule. They can’t veto each other’s guests.”
Nic’s laugh was soft and low. “Saved by the power of disallowed vetoes.”
“Exactly,” I said, sounding mellower this time. “How could you resist?”
“I don’t think I could. I take it you’ll be there?”
“Of course. It’s actually my birthday, too.”
“Ah,” he said, smiling. “Buon compleanno. I’d love to come.”
I enjoyed a brief inner victory dance while making sure to keep my expression relaxed. “Cool.”
“I was wondering what kind of stuff you do for fun,” he continued. “I was thinking about it earlier.”
“So you don’t forget about me, then?” I teased. “When you’re playing basketball with your brothers or hanging out in your giant mansion and I’m at the diner wasting away from boredom?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Good.”
“And you’re not very forgettable, either,” he added, almost as an afterthought.
“I think most people would disagree,” I returned.
“I’m not most people.”
“You’re certainly not,” I agreed.
“So tell me about yourself, Sophie. I want to know about you.”
“Why?” No one ever wanted to know about me. Especially not bronze, statue-type people. “I’m very boring, I promise.”