Chapter 27 – Vincenzo – The Past
Mandy: What’s the word for the female version of a mobster?
I grinned down at my phone. “What the hell has gotten into that brilliant head of yours this time?”
Cristiano looked up from where he was working the ratchet. The bolts hadn’t loosened when we’d stripped the pieces, but now as he reassembled the parts, there wasn’t much for me to do but stand by and wait.
“What was that?” my brother called.
“Nothing.” I flicked the blowtorch on and off.
We’d used it to loosen a particularly resistant bolt an hour ago, which was always my favorite part. The aspects of mechanics requiring more finesse bored me. I didn’t have my brother’s patience for tinkering with pieces.
The sound of the tool, the tick-hitch-buzz, filled the garage.
Death metal crackled from the iPod docking station.
My leg bounced with anticipation as I stared again at the screen.
I wanted to go to her, but our brief conversation over the tutoring session this afternoon in the prep school’s library revealed that her dad and stepmom were in town.
I turned the knob again. Blue shot into the air, fierce and hot, only to be cut off with a twist of the knob.
The vibrant color was tantalizing, making me wonder what it would feel like to run my fingers through it.
Just to taste the burn, for a brief, heavenly moment before the pain blistered over my flesh.
I bit my lip and resisted the temptation as the dulcet tones of the woman screamed about bringing her back to life.
Cristiano grunted.
I want to see her….
I could sneak in the window.
Flipping my phone shut, I tucked the rectangular brick cellphone in my pocket. “You about done there?”
“Got it!” Cristiano rolled out from under the hotrod. “Let’s start her up and see how she runs.”
“That was easy,” I muttered.
My brother pointed a greasy finger at me. “Don’t say that!”
I frowned.
Cristiano crossed himself superstitiously as he slid behind the wheel. The engine cranked over. The wheels moved effortlessly.
“Seems like it worked,” I insisted, flicking a glance out into the night. By the time I drove across town, it would be nearly eleven.
“Won’t know till we drive her.” Cristiano wiped his hands on a rag before setting the keys on the workbench and gathering his tools. “But next time, don’t try and jinx it!”
I set the blow torch down. “I’ll take her for a test drive.”
“Oh, no!” Cristiano shot up. “You’re not going alone!”
My lips thinned. “You don’t want to come with me.”
Hands on his hips, he just stood there, the picture of determination.
“Fine,” I snapped. “Let’s go.”
It was probably astronomically stupid to take the car farther than down the block.
But there wasn’t another vehicle we could use.
Plucking the keys, I slid behind the wheel.
My brother grabbed his iPod then joined me in the passenger seat.
The tunes picked back up after he plugged the AUX cord into the device.
“Where are we going?” Cristiano turned down the volume, worried features staring across the dark roads.
I kept the vehicle under the speed limit, not wanting to deal with a cop at this late hour. “On an adventure.”
“V, I don’t think—”
I turned up the volume.
The car made it just fine. The suspension was smoother; the brakes were fresh and grippy. Cristiano would have no problem racing the beast on the tracks later this month. I pulled to the curb two blocks away from my destination and put the vehicle in neutral.
“I’ll call you when I’m ready to be picked up.” I exited the vehicle.
“Vincenzo, wait!” Cristiano moved to intercept me around the hood. “We shouldn’t be here.”
I swept a look over him. He was fifteen now, and thanks to one of our guys, he had his forged license early—just like I had. But there were rules for driving at such a young age. Our dad would tan our hides if something happened this far away from the neighborhood in the middle of the night.
“What are you even doing?” he hissed, voice hushed.
“Meeting someone.” Warmth stirred through me at the thought.
My brother fidgeted. He was young. I tried to remember what it was like at his age, even though that wasn’t that long ago. Training to be a Made Man started early, but if I was being honest, I was harder—tougher—than he was.
“See you soon.” I clapped his shoulder and sauntered away.
The squeal of tires echoed after me.
Hopping the fence to the Lorings’ backyard was easy. Climbing to the back window was not impossible, though the structure of the house was not favorable for such antics.
Fingers gripping the ledge, I pulled myself up. Crap, what if she screamed?
Without a free hand, I couldn’t text her to warn her not to do that.
The soft orange glow of her bedside lamp filtered through the curtain. I pressed the window, testing it. The pane slid up.
“You know, you really shouldn’t have your window unlocked,” I said softly.
There was no answer.
Leaning through the window, torso crushed on the ledge, I peeled back the curtain. There she was, fast asleep on a pile of books. Since her door was shut, I quickly swung myself into the space. Only after making sure the partition was locked did I approach the bed.
Squatting, I studied her. Madonna santa, she was beautiful. That smooth skin, dotted with light freckles, was shaped almost like a heart. Thick, golden lashes that she constantly painted darker, but I preferred them like this. They matched her golden hair. And that scent!
I leaned forward to inhale. Jasmine. Moonlight. Her. There was no more intoxicating scent on this earth. One whiff of that scent, and I was done. If I wasn’t already on my knees, I would have fallen.
Amanda moaned softly in her sleep.
My dick rose in a wicked salute.
I ignored him. He didn’t matter. We were just friends—or at least, that was the game I allowed her to play. But I hadn’t missed the way she watched me when she thought I wasn’t looking. I didn’t call her out on all the ways she devised to touch me. Each accidental contact was torture.
She was mine.
What am I waiting for?
Before I could talk myself out of making my move for the thousandth time, I leaned forward. I kissed her softly, taking a taste that she would never know I’d stolen.
Only, she must have sensed me. Her palm swung upward and clapped me on the side of the head. Bells rang in my brain.
“Ouch,” I hissed, rubbing my scalp.
I couldn’t bear to look at her. What if I just blew my chance? I’d been patient for so long, and now that waiting, that pining, just landed me in a heap of trouble.
“How the hell did you get in here?” Amanda shouted in a whisper, rolling onto her stomach.
“The window.”
She grabbed her razor thin flip-phone to check the time. “It’s half past eleven, Enzo.”
“I know.” I splayed my fingers over my knees. With a deep breath, I lifted my gaze. “You wanted to know about female mobsters.”
The sleep was fast fading from those sapphire orbs. Amanda blinked hard, then chuckled softly. “Yeah, well, what is the word for it?”
I shrugged. “Why did you want to know?”
Amanda steepled her fingers. “Because I might qualify to join.”
The twinkle in her voice helped to banish the panic coursing through my veins. She wasn’t ordering me out. She didn’t scold me for the stolen kiss.
“What did you do now?” I teased, grinning despite myself.
“Carole was going on and on at lunch about my extracurriculars—when she wasn’t tucking her boobs back into her shirt,” Amanda explained, lip curled up in disgust. “And so, I got to thinking that I should probably have some of those. So I snuck into the school office, and well…my transcript looks pretty damn plump.”
My jaw dropped. “You forged school records. That’s kinda bad ass!”
Amanda smiled broadly, white teeth glittering. “I know!”
“My little mobster—” I surged forward, clasped her hands, and froze.
We looked at them.
We looked at each other.
“Not too big of lies,” she breathed, although neither of us was paying attention to the conversation. “The kind of work that could be verified if push came to shove.”
I knew she felt it too, the energy pulsing where we touched. My gaze dropped. I didn’t mean to stare at her mouth.
But there we were, inches apart.
The hot rush of air from her exhale fanned my face.
“I can’t believe you actually snuck into my room,” she said, nudging me again, smiling like she knew exactly what she was doing to me. “Pretty bad ass, yourself, Mr. Mobster.”
“I had to see you,” I said, though my voice cracked enough to make her laugh.
Dio mio, that laugh. It made me feel lighter and more off-balance at the same time.
A quiet settled between us. Not awkward, but full. Charged in a way I didn’t have words for yet. My thumb traced over her thick knuckles. Impossibly soft…. She hated the way her hands looked. Mannish was the term she used. But these hands…fuck. I could worship them.
Amanda wet her lips. It made my heart hammer in my ribs.
I swallowed. “Mandy, the way I feel about you—”
“I know,” she whispered, almost like she’d been waiting.
She leaned in first. Barely. Just enough.
I met her halfway.
Our lips brushed softly. Carefully. Like we were both terrified of doing it wrong and hoping desperately we were doing it right. The kiss wasn’t fireworks or explosions. It was smaller. Sweeter.
A little tremble.
A held breath.
A warmth that settled right in the center of my chest.
When we pulled back, Amanda was smiling in that shy, trying-not-to-smile way that made me feel like I did something unbelievably lucky.
“Okay,” she said softly, eyes dropping before she looked at me again. “That was…nice.”
I couldn’t stop grinning. “Yeah. Really nice.”
“What the hell took you so long?” she stammered, pulling a hand free to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear.
The accusation made me falter. I didn’t want to explain what a sap I was for her. How I would have waited ten years to kiss her if that was what she demanded.
It will always be you.
“Enzo?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Maybe I was waiting for you to join the dark side?”
“Well, if I’d known you were waiting for my initiation into the mob, I would have spoken up sooner!” Amanda laughed hard and sat up, pulling my hand with hers. Our fingers looped together, clasped on the bed between us. “Lord! I felt like such a dork—”
“Mandy,” I groaned softly. “Why? Why would you feel like that?”
She gestured at me with both her hands, including the one I held. “It’s easy for you! Any girl in the school would take off their top or drop to their knees. I didn’t want you to think I was uncool for having a crush.”
I rose to sit on the edge of the bed. Slowly, giving her space to draw back if she wanted to, I reached for her. She didn’t move. I brushed my fingers over her jaw, threading them back into her hair.
“If you’re a dork, I am too.” I rubbed my thumb right under her ear. I didn’t know if it was the right way to touch her, but it felt like it was. “I’m crazy about you, Mandy. Only you.”
“Alright…good,” she sighed.
“And as to the criminal activities you’re contemplating,” I teased, moving the conversation away from heavier topics. “The first rule of the mob is that we don’t talk about the mob.”
“Okay, fight club,” she laughed softly.
The edge of her sleeper tee fell off her shoulder. My gaze snagged on it and on her nipples, straining against the material.
Her words turned breathless. “I can pull it off.”
My palm skated from her hair down the line of her neck. Over her shoulder. Along her arm. I plucked the material, drawing it back to cover the beautiful, already summer-tanned skin.
“We’re not going all the way,” I murmured, though the heat in my veins screamed in protest. “We have the rest of our lives, and I’m just going to enjoy the present with you.” My flower.
“Oh.” There was a note of uncertainty in her voice.
“Don’t get me wrong, I want to,” I said with a smile. “But you’ll always be mine, Mandy, so we can wait until we’re a bit older.”
Amanda was seventeen now. Our Junior Year was almost done, and we would spend the whole summer together. Maybe I would even sneak us away to the beach. A place to be us without anyone watching. I threaded my fingers through her golden hair, letting it fall over her shoulders like a waterfall.
“Well, I think that if you want to be a mobster, we should start with something small,” I murmured, going back to safer topics.
The spark of fire in her eyes was the same blue as the heart of a flame. “Let’s do it!”
Bending down, I nipped her lips. “You sure you want to do this?”
Amanda nodded. “What’s my first job? Theft? Moving contraband? I don’t think I’m cut out for murder, but if we need to rough someone up—”
I pressed my mouth to hers, cutting her off before I doubled over with laughter. She would only see that as mockery.
Cavolo, I didn’t even realize I was moving until her breath brushed mine again. Something inside me just snapped into place. It felt natural. As though us finally reaching this point was permission to never stop.
The second kiss wasn’t careful.
It was electrical. Hotter. Kind of like stepping into sunlight after months of cold.
She tasted like the secret we’d shared, a little sweet, a little sharp, and something I couldn’t name except that it hit me like an ache.
My pulse kicked hard. I felt it in my fingertips, in the hollow of my throat, in the place where her hand settled lightly on my shoulder. The world tilted—
And suddenly everything was fresh with promise.
The smell of jasmine and moonlight, exotic and enchanting, swirled around me. I kissed her deeper. It was real. I felt the shape of her smile against my mouth. Dio mio, how had I waited so long? How had I walked around pretending I didn’t want this? I slid my tongue against the curve of her lips.
Amanda made a tiny, surprised sound, soft and breathy, and it sent a rush of excitement through me that felt almost impossible to contain.
I pulled back just enough to breathe her in.
She glowed in the lamplight, cheeks flushed, lips pink from kissing, looking like something heaven had misplaced on earth.
For a wild, impossible second, I thought that if she kept kissing me, maybe every bad thing I’d ever done, every bad thing I would do, could be washed clean. Not forgiven. But softened. Redeemed by the simple fact that a girl like her had let me hold this moment.
I lifted her hair and let it flutter down again. “Your initiation into the mob starts now, Mandy.”
“Oh?” She giggled. “But what’s the mission?”
“You’re sneaking out,” I whispered against her mouth. “To have a midnight snack at the diner.”
“Diner, huh?” She wrinkled her nose. “I could go for some pancakes, actually.”