Chapter 6
Chapter Six
SALVATORE
Ismile at the sight of Keeley comfortable on my couch, her posture casual, her legs crossed at the ankles, a lightness to her expression.
Like she belongs there.
Maybe because she does.
I once told her this office was big enough for the two of us, and I meant it. I wouldn’t hesitate to move her into my space. Any time. It would mean I wouldn’t have to call her in here so often.
She adjusts her position as I join her inside, curling her feet up underneath herself, while I reveal the reason she arrived before I did. “I came prepared with more chocolate. Do you want some?”
“Always.” She beams up at me, but her tired eyes give away the toll today has taken on her. On everyone. “I hate to ask…” She hesitates for a beat, her eyes flashing to the chocolate in my hand. “Should we order dinner first?”
“What?” I fake shock. “I’ve been told there’s nothing wrong with chocolate for dinner.
” I wink. “But yes, we should order something more substantial. What do you feel like?” I stew over the question myself, knowing she’s about to throw it back to me, like anyone I’ve ever asked that question to.
We’ll undoubtedly go through that “I don’t mind” bullshit. It always?—
“Pizza?”
“What?” My eyes bulge as I stare at her, stunned.
“Pizza. Is that a problem?”
“No. Not at all. Pizza is good.” Has anyone ever actually made a decision about dinner that quickly?
“Good. You get it from Riccardo’s, right?”
“Riccardo’s? No. I haven’t?—”
“Oh my God.” Her eyes flit shut and she moans in ecstasy, biting down on her bottom lip.
And for the first time in her presence, my cock twitches.
What the fuck is that about?
Keeley continues on, none the wiser, and I smile, hiding my panic when she opens her eyes. “You have to try their pizza,” she gushes. “It’s honestly the best around. You won’t be able to beat it.”
Her words pull me out of my thoughts and I almost laugh. Is she seriously telling a New Yorker that San Francisco has the best pizza?
I stare at her for a beat, a brow raised in challenge until she throws her head back with a laugh. “I’d go as far as to say it will rival your favorite in New York.”
It’s like she read my mind.
“We’ll see.”
Keeley’s laughter subdues as she grabs her phone, bringing up the menu before passing it over so I can give her my order.
When we’re done, she runs through her concerns for Zane while we wait, her switch into work mode helping my little problem.
Which I’m hoping remains just that—a little problem.
The last thing we need is for it to become… bigger.
“I need a statement ready for when the news breaks,” Keeley tells me.
“While I’m usually a pro at statements, I don’t know how to tackle this one.
The world knows Landon attacked Reed and Hayley, and that Zane came to their defense.
That’s old news. They’ve moved on. However, when they find out Landon didn’t survive, they’ll circle like vultures, focusing on how Zane’s act of protection resulted in his teammate dying, despite it being self-defense.
They’re going to be divided and they’re going to be loud about it. ”
“You’re right and because of that, this one needs to come from me. It should come from me. I know you’re going to argue but I need to be the face of this. It’s my job to protect my team.”
“Some fans will hate you.”
“Let them. I’m prepared to put in the work to rebuild their trust.”
Keeley sighs, briefly massaging her temples, and I imagine myself taking over until she continues speaking. “I didn’t agree to let you help so that you’d take it all on.”
“I know.” I nod, shaking off my thoughts.
“But you’re going to do it anyway?” She glances up at me, her expression knowing.
“I am. You’re not going to talk me out of it.”
“Okay. Fine.” She fakes a huff, but the hint of a smile gives away her appreciation.
“Thank you for not arguing. Let’s get to it. How can we word it to protect Zane while also being mindful of the deceased?” I frown in thought and Keeley mimics my expression.
“That’s the million-dollar question. But we’ve got this.”
We’re lost in a sea of ideas and notes when Keeley’s phone rings, with security telling her our pizzas are here. I offer to go but she pushes me back into my seat and darts away, returning ten minutes later accompanied by the aroma of pizza and a concerned expression.
“What’s wrong? Fuck. Has Landon’s death been released?”
“No, I’d be far more worried if it had. This bag is way too heavy for what we ordered.”
Amusement fills me at her trivial response and my interest piques. “Freebies? Great. Let’s check it out.”
“Freebies? Says the multibillionaire.”
“I’m not a multibillionaire.”
Keeley hits me with a glare that screams bullshit—she’s good at those—and I chuckle under my breath.
“Fine. I was a multibillionaire. Until I decided to blow it all by buying a financially fucked football team.” Now I’m about half a million off.
“So, you’re broke?” She pulls that “bullshit” look again, and I shrug nonchalantly.
“I get by.” My lips thin and it’s Keeley’s turn to laugh.
“Yeah, okay. How’s that Armani suit?”
“It’s Prada, and I bought it before I bought the team.”
“God, you’re full of it. Either way, let’s find out what we’ve got.”
Keeley opens the bag and her eyes widen before she stifles her amusement. “Shit. I forgot my next order was going to include a bottle of wine. Look how well they packaged it. It didn’t move.” She shows me the inside of the bag, and I have to admit, I’m impressed but confused.
“They sell wine? The images on the website suggested it was one of those hole-in-the-wall-type places.”
“It is. And no, they don’t sell wine. I’ve kind of become acquaintances with the owner’s son, since I frequent there a lot.
Along with about five other restaurants nearby because I never have time to cook.
Anyway, we got to talking a few weeks ago and five minutes turned into an hour or more, and he bet me that I couldn’t handle the spiciest pizza on their menu.
Stupid bet really since he barely knows me.
But it happened. Last week I tried the pizza and I won.
” Her beaming happiness returns, and this time it reaches her eyes, sparking a strange tightness in my chest. Is that happiness for him?
Or because we’ve made a little headway on the statement and she’s a little less stressed?
Ignoring my feelings, I meet her excitement. “Let me guess, it wasn’t that spicy after all, and he just wanted to get you back there? He used it as an excuse to see you again.” What? Jesus. Why do I sound jealous right now?
Thankfully Keeley laughs. “Actually, no. He was surprised when I ordered it and God, was it hot. I’m not going to lie.
I thought I was going to pass out. I finished the two pieces I was required to eat for the bet, then faked a call so I could leave.
I was so traumatized that I completely forgot about the wine.
” She picks up the wine and assesses the bottle.
“It looks like a good one. It was worth the pain.”
I don’t know whether to laugh or stare at her in awe.
“Do you want some?” she continues on. “I don’t have any glasses that are good enough for wine, but after the day we’ve had, I’m not sure I care.”
At that I chuckle. “You worked hard for that bottle. You should save it for yourself. Or share it with the owner’s son.”
Keeley snorts before her face contorts. “God, talking about him brings back memories of the rest of that night and…wow, you do not need to hear about that. Moving on. I’ll get the glasses.” She shakes her head before handing me the bottle and pizza. “I’ll be right back.”
She walks away without waiting for a response, and I stare after her. Was she going to tell me they ended up in bed together? Is that what she held back? I run a hand through my hair, my body tense and… Why the fuck do I care?
Keeley returns after a few minutes with a tall smoothie glass and a paper cup. “Sorry, the rest of the glasses were in the dishwasher and someone forgot to turn it on.”
“I actually have whiskey glasses in my cabinet over there,” I say with a smirk, pointing to said cabinet. “Would you rather use those?”
“Hell, yes. Why didn’t you lead with that?”
“I forgot until just now.” You distracted me with your half-finished story.
“Do you have whiskey too?”
“I do. Do you drink it?”
“Not usually. I was just curious. I’m filing that away for the things I know about Salvatore D’Angelo.”
“Wow, okay. Is the file big?”
“It’s growing.” She smiles to herself as she heads over to the cabinet, grabbing the whiskey glasses before pouring us both a glass of wine.
“To Zane being free of his heartache,” she says, raising her glass in the air.
“To Zane.” I clink my glass to hers and take a sip of the wine, scrunching my face when I taste it.
“What’s wrong?” Keeley laughs before she’s able to take a sip of her own. “Too posh to drink wine out of a whiskey glass? At least it wasn’t the paper cup.”
“Too posh?” I scoff. “I’ll have you know I can rough it like the best of them.”
“Best of who?”
“The people who rough it. I don’t know. Just taste the wine. You’ll see why I pulled a face.”
“Oh no.” Keeley gasps as her hand flies to her mouth, stifling a grin. “Is it bad?”
“Not bad exactly. But something’s not right.”
She takes a sip and her eyes immediately widen, her expression much like my own. “I think I’m too posh to drink wine out of a whiskey glass. You’re right. It’s nice but there’s definitely something going on.”
“It’s the glass, not poshness. It’s suppressing the qualities of the wine. The shape doesn’t allow for the wine to breathe properly, affecting the aroma, which in turn affects the taste.”
Keeley stares at me blankly, then releases the most infectious but obnoxious laugh. “It’s both.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s the glass and your poshness. Do you hear yourself? The glass suppresses the aromas.” She mocks my voice as she puts her glass down, and something propels me to grab her hand, pulling her into me as I press a finger to her lips.
“Wealthy, yes. Posh, no.”
Keeley’s breath hitches and it’s only then that our close proximity registers in my mind.
She peers up at me intently, her crystal-blue eyes boring into mine, forcing me to look away as my heart slams against my rib cage.
My gaze drops to my finger on her mouth at the exact moment her lips part.
Her chest lifts as she sucks in a shaky breath, and I’m powerless to resist her, as all rational thought exits my brain.
My pulse spikes as I lift my hands to her cheeks and stare into her eyes, the world around me fading to black. My muscles tense. My fingers itch to be curled into her hair. And an inner battle rages inside me with every instinct telling me to walk away.
Keeley doesn’t break my stare, but her tongue swipes across her already glossed lips as she takes a step closer.
And I’m fucked.
I close what’s left of the space between us, pausing with my lips a breath away from hers, my chest buzzing with nervous anticipation. Keeley’s eyes grow round, and I’m unable to hold back anymore, pressing my lips to hers, taking her mouth in a possessive kiss.
She stills momentarily before melting into me, her lips parting to welcome my tongue. Déjà vu hits me and the idea that we’ve done this before catches me off guard, sparking a jolt in my chest.
A soft mewl escapes her and my attention shifts, a groan trapping in the back of my throat, as I crowd into her, lifting her chin to deepen the kiss.
Our tongues dance until Keeley clutches at my shirt and pulls back breathlessly, her tender doe-eyed expression reaching inside me.
She shakes her head in shock, and the movement snaps me out of the moment, even before she tries to speak.
“I—”
My eyes stretch wide and I release her, my sudden retreat halting her words.
“Fuck, Keeley.” I run a hand down my face, my voice raspy as I struggle to process what happened.
What the hell was I thinking?
“We shouldn’t have done that?” Keeley asks when I don’t elaborate, preempting my words as she stands tall.
I shake my head, finally meeting her gaze. “No, we shouldn’t have.”
“That’s a shame because it didn’t feel wrong.” Her voice lacks warmth and emotion, and I can’t decide if that’s because she’s reverting back to professional mode, or protecting her feelings from what she thinks is a rejection. Or both.
I’m about to apologize when her lips curl into a smile. “You’re one hell of a kisser, D’Angelo.”
I’m still reeling, but the smallest of smirks tugs at the edge of my lips. “Have I ever told you that I admire your lack of filter? You always convey whatever’s on your mind.”
“Not always.”
“No?”
“I wanted you to kiss me just now, and yet, I stayed quiet and waited for you to make a move.”
“I know. I didn’t need words. You let me know by other means.”
“Wow.” A laugh bursts out of her but she doesn’t shy away. “Good to know you can read me, Sal. Not many can.”
I smile before my shoulders drop and I force myself to look away.
“The funny thing is, I can read you too,” she says, drawing my attention. “You can save the explanation. I get it.”
“Do you?” I move to be closer to her again before thinking better of it and subtly rocking back. “I’m terrified, Keeley.” I run a hand through my hair, gripping the back of my neck. “I don’t think I could have survived the last year without your support. I’m?—”
“That’s not going to change.” She cuts me off, grabbing my hand to still me. “It was a kiss, Sal. A kiss in the moment during an emotional time. Nothing to worry about.”
Something about her casual tone has me curling my fingers through hers, my hold forceful as I pull her back into me when she tries to walk away. “Just a kiss?”
“Yes.” Her voice comes out breathy. “Just a kiss.”
“So you don’t think it’ll affect us working together?” My heart races as I wait for her response, and when she smiles reassuringly, a little of my panic subsides.
“It won’t. I promise. But I agree we shouldn’t do it again.”