Chapter 18
FABIANA
Too late.
I stared at the text, my mouth dry.
No. No, no, no.
The room tilted. Or maybe I did. The last tequila shot was hitting me all at once, and the bathroom counter was the only thing keeping me upright.
I squinted at my phone, exited the app, reopened it, and clicked back into my chat with Cosimo, hoping the words might rearrange themselves into something less horrifying.
They didn’t.
The same message stared back at me.
Oh. My. God.
A hot wave of humiliation rushed up my neck. Why was he on his phone at three in the morning? Why wasn’t he asleep?
He probably thought I was the world’s biggest hypocrite. No, I won’t share a room with you, but sure, here, let me send you a sexy selfie completely unprompted.
So much for treating this like a job. Jobs were supposed to be clean. This? This was messy.
A groan clawed its way out of me. Why did I think this was a good plan? All for a prize that Zo hadn’t even given me.
The bathroom door swung open, and a few giggling girls stumbled in. I had to get back out there before one of the bodyguards waiting outside started to get worried. I also needed to figure out some kind of response to send to Cosimo. Something cool. Something normal.
I brushed past the girls and pushed out into the hall, my eyes still glued to the screen as I tried to think. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the bodyguard standing at the end of the hall. My head swam. I was still trying to compose my response as I moved past him.
He stopped me with a firm grip on my arm.
“What’s going—”
The question died on my tongue. I wasn’t looking at the bodyguard.
I was looking at Cosimo.
And he looked pissed.
Mortification wrapped around my throat. “What are you doing here?” I whispered, slurring slightly and blinking a few times to make sure I wasn’t seeing things.
Nope. He was definitely here.
He stepped closer, his eyes turbulent and dark. “Taking you home.”
“What?” I tried to yank my arm free and failed. “No, you’re not. I’m here with my friends.”
“They’ve got a car and a driver. They’ll be fine.”
“And I won’t be? Where’s the bodyguard?”
His narrow gaze pierced through me. “He’s been dismissed. You’ve had too much to drink. Judging by the picture you sent me, you can’t handle it.”
My entire face went hot. “You weren’t supposed to see it.”
“You gambled on deleting it before I checked my phone. It was a bad gamble.”
“I thought you’d be asleep.”
“Yeah, ’cause I work a fucking nine-to-five.”
The girls from the bathroom spilled into the hallway and squeezed past us. Cosimo pulled me into him without warning, and suddenly, there was no space left between us at all.
He was so warm. So sturdy. His cologne filled my next breath, and I melted against him.
A heavy, drunken haze rolled through me. I shook my head, and my forehead pressed against his chest. “How are you even here right now? Did you teleport?”
“I was upstairs meeting with Les and Rom.” His response was gruff, but he didn’t sound angry anymore. His thumb brushed over my biceps, back and forth, spreading goosebumps over my skin.
A sudden tiredness gripped me. “I think I do want to go home.”
He moved his hand to my lower back. “C’mon.”
The floor tilted beneath me. I couldn’t take a single step without wobbling.
Cosimo pulled me into his side, his palm firmly on my hip. “Christ, Nettle. Do I need to carry you out?”
My cheek brushed against his chest. More of his scent. More of his heat. “Nettle?” I mumbled. “Like the mug?”
“Yeah. Like the mug.”
A smile tugged at my mouth. “I like it.”
The walk out to his car was a blur. By the time the world came back into focus, we were already driving.
Nausea churned low in my stomach. I pressed my temple to the cool glass of the window and let out a miserable sound.
A bottle of water appeared in front of me. “Drink.”
I took a tentative sip.
“Can you keep yourself together for the thirty minutes it takes to get to your brother’s house?”
“I hope so.”
He muttered something under his breath. Then more clearly, he said, “When was the last time you drank this much, Fabiana?”
“Never.” I placed the bottle into the cup holder between us. “Never ever.”
“Your friends shouldn’t have been pouring alcohol down your throat.”
“They weren’t,” I insisted. I had to defend the girls’ honor. “If I’d told them I wanted to stop, they wouldn’t have offered me another shot.” I shut my eyes again. “My next bachelorette will definitely be a lot more chill.”
A beat passed.
“Your next bachelorette?”
“Yeah. The one before my real wedding.”
“Already planning your second marriage?”
“Just in the abstract. I have to find a man to marry first.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Where do you plan on finding him?”
I blinked at the storefronts sliding past outside the window, my eyelids heavy. “I don’t know. I was thinking about going back to school after we’re done. Getting a master’s degree in art, or something more practical, like curatorial studies.”
“That’s practical?”
I rolled my eyes. “Maybe I’ll meet him in one of my classes. I think a shared interest is a good foundation for a relationship.”
“Yeah?” His voice was dry. “You want to go to museums with him and discuss the meaning of unfinished paintings?”
“That sounds nice.”
“Hmm. And what other qualities would this ideal male specimen have?”
I eyed him. Why did he sound so irritated? “He’d be nice. And gentle. The kind of guy who wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
His jaw moved.
“And calm,” I went on, observing him as I did. “Someone who doesn’t need to control everything all the time. Someone who listens.”
He scoffed.
“What?” I asked.
“He sounds just like you.”
“So?”
“You’d be bored.”
I frowned. “Why would that be boring?”
“Because there’s a reason people say opposites attract.”
At once, my mind betrayed me. A velvet box pressed against my chest. Large hands, warm and sure, handling me with expert ease while the camera clicked. The dark hallway at Black Silk, the two of us pressed together so closely that to anyone watching, we must’ve looked like lovers.
Want, hot and foolish, dripped into my bloodstream, then a wave of nausea washed it away.
I slapped my palm over my mouth.
Cosimo glanced at me.
I pointed weakly at the windshield.
“Fuck.” He pulled over fast. The moment the car stopped, I shoved the door open and stumbled out into the cold night air. I barely made it a few steps before I bent over and threw up into the gutter.
A second wave hit before I could recover. This time, I felt him behind me—his hand gathering my hair off my neck, the other steadying me as his jacket settled over my shoulders. The gesture was so unexpectedly gentle it made the whole thing somehow worse.
By the time it passed, my eyes were watering, and every inch of me felt wrung out. I stayed bent over for a second, breathing hard, then I slowly straightened. The night air was freezing against my skin, but his jacket was warm and heavy with the scent of him.
“Done?”
I nodded. I couldn’t speak. My bottom lip wobbled as humiliation burned through me.
He handed me the bottle again. “Rinse your mouth.”
I did. I was the most disgusting person in the world.
“We need to get some food in you.”
He got me back into the car, and I shut my eyes.
When I opened them again, we’d stopped at a twenty-four-hour diner not far from Rafe’s house. Cosimo got out, came around, and pulled me from the car.
I didn’t say a word as we walked inside.
The place was nearly empty, all harsh overhead lights and the smell of grease. A tired waitress in a blue apron barely glanced up when we slid into a booth by the window.
Cosimo ordered for me.
I rested my forehead on top of my hands while we waited. The vinyl seat was sticky beneath my legs. The pounding in my head had begun to dull. I was sobering up with each passing minute, which only made me appreciate just how thoroughly I’d embarrassed myself tonight.
Across from me, Cosimo said nothing, but I could feel his gaze on me.
Judging me, most likely. If he thought I wasn’t built to be a don’s wife prior to this, I was sure tonight had cemented it.
I knew the six-month term hadn’t been only for my benefit.
He probably thought he’d be able to find someone far more suitable once we were done.
The burger and fries arrived.
“Slow down,” Cosimo said as I scarfed it down.
Tentatively, I met his gaze. There was more sympathy in it than I’d expected. “Hungry,” I said between bites.
“I can tell.”
I swallowed and took another fry.
“Have you been here before?” I asked once I was full.
He shook his head.
“Guess you don’t find yourself taking care of drunk women often, huh?”
His jaw flexed. “Not usually.”
The overhead lights were unkind to everyone else in the diner, but somehow, they only sharpened his cheekbones and the dark slash of his brows.
Attraction flickered through me. I looked back down at my plate. “Well. Sorry to ruin your streak.”
Outside, the air was cold enough to clear the last of the fog from my head. He held my elbow as we walked back to the car, as if he didn’t trust me not to stumble.
I climbed into the passenger seat and flipped down the visor mirror, wincing at my reflection. I looked every bit as disheveled as I felt.
Cosimo slid into the driver’s seat while I settled my purse on my lap and reached for the clasp, intending to dig out my lipstick. It wasn’t going to perform miracles, but it might make me feel slightly more put together.
The bag felt oddly swollen beneath my hands.
I frowned. The clasp was stretched tight, as though something inside was pressing against it. I worked my thumb beneath the metal fastening and popped it open.
The purse exploded.
Tiny plastic penises sprang into the air in every direction. They bounced off my lap, scattered across the floor mat, rolled beneath the dashboard and into the dark space between the seats. One ricocheted off the console and landed squarely on Cosimo’s thigh.
“Oh my God,” I squeaked out.
The car went very still.