NINETEEN #2
‘A girl offered me five hundred euros to swap dresses,’ I said, forcing a shrug. ‘Seemed like a good deal.’ The lie burned. I hated how easily it came.
His eyes narrowed, his smirk spreading further as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze – though professional – somewhat appreciative. ‘Five hundred? For a dress?’
I nodded, raising an eyebrow. ‘Why? Think I should have asked for more?’
He chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm. ‘I just find it hard to believe someone would pay that much for a dress. Was there something wrong with this one?’
I hesitated for a fraction of a second, the heat rising to my cheeks as I looked away and shook my head.
Not this one. The other one though…
‘So,’ Cain’s lips twitched, his amusement trembling under the surface, ‘you traded a perfectly fine dress for one that—’ he glanced at the low neckline ‘—left nothing to imagination?’
I rolled my eyes, though my heart thudded a little faster under his attention. ‘What’s wrong with it?’
‘Nothing,’ he said, the smirk still lingering. But the way he repositioned told me he’d reminded himself where we were. ‘Just… unexpected.’
I raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. ‘And you’re such an expert on my style now?’
His smirk widened, his eyes meeting mine with a glint of mischief. ‘I pay attention.’
His gaze was branding.
My stomach flipped. A blush rose anyway, shame licking up my spine, the sensation of Ghost’s release clinging to my skin.
I was definitely losing my mind.
I focused on my dress again, pulling the hem lower, but I could still feel him staring. It wasn’t predatory, but it was intense, the kind of look that made it clear he was taking in every detail and appreciating what he saw.
‘Well, for what it’s worth,’ I said, forcing a lightness into my voice, ‘I think I pull it off.’
The quip provoked another small chuckle from him, but then the lines on his face loosened, and the smirk faded into something surprisingly gentle – and disarming.
‘You do,’ he said quietly, his voice low and sincere. ‘You make it look classy.’
My heart skipped. The warmth in his tone, the way his eyes held mine for just a second too long – it was more than just a passing remark.
‘Thanks,’ I murmured, tilting my head to hide the blush on my cheeks.
When I finally dared to glance back at him, his gaze hadn’t wavered. It was the same appreciative look any man might give a woman. But from him, it felt different. Consuming, almost. As if, for that brief moment, I was the only thing that mattered.
The thought sent a ripple of unease through me, but not the kind that made me want to pull away. It pulled me closer, tempting me to unravel the layers behind his tired eyes and teasing smirk. But I didn’t dare – because if I did, I wasn’t sure I would come back intact.
And I needed this fucking job.
Vinnie’s sudden appearance splintered the charged silence between us.
He approached with two bottles of beer in hand, his grin as wide as his stride.
The moment his gaze landed on me, he froze mid-step, his eyes sweeping over my dress with exaggerated slowness that made me utterly self-conscious.
He whistled low, shaking his head in mock astonishment.
‘Well, don’t you clean up nicely, DeLuca,’ he said, his voice dripping with charm. ‘You look good enough to eat, sweetheart.’
I raised an eyebrow, biting back a smile, but before I could respond, Cain cleared his throat – loudly.
Vinnie shot him a quick glance, his grin only widening. ‘What? Just giving the woman a well-deserved compliment. Don’t get all territorial on me, big guy.’
Cain leaned back in his chair, his eyes laced with irritation and amusement. ‘The word is respectful, Vinnie. You might want to try it sometimes.’
‘Oh, I am respectful,’ Vinnie quipped, handing one of the bottles to Cain. He gave me an exaggerated wink as he added, ‘I’m also an honest man.’
Cain scoffed, lifting the bottle to his lips. ‘That’s one word for it. You were supposed to return with these long ago. Where were you?’
Vinnie glanced at his little brunette at the bar, then chuckled, clapping his friend on the shoulder. ‘All right, I’m going back into battle. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.’ With a final wink aimed squarely at D’Angelo, he walked away, his laughter trailing behind.
Cain groaned, pulling his gaze back to me with a hint of apology.
‘I’m sorry about him,’ he said, his tone sincere. ‘His heart is where it’s supposed to be. Even though his brain is missing sometimes.’
I chuckled softly, shaking my head. ‘It’s fine. He’s harmless.’
My eyes grazed over the crowd, wondering if Ghost was still there, watching me.
Suddenly aware of my phantom’s gaze, I straightened up, my face draining of all warmth and flirtation.
‘Mostly,’ Cain added, leaning back. ‘He’s a great salesman, and a damn good manager, but sometimes he can be a bit… much.’
I smiled at that, curious despite myself. ‘How long have you two known each other?’
A shadow of nostalgia crossed his countenance. ‘Since grade school,’ he said. ‘Back in New York. We were… an unlikely duo.’
‘Unlikely how?’ I asked, intrigued.
He hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping to the bottle in his hand. I drank as I watched his finger tapping away at the glass, as if measuring the words that were about to come out.
‘I didn’t exactly have the kind of upbringing that makes you popular.’
When he paused, I knew he wasn’t going to continue. A shadow crossed his features, one that suddenly made him look much older than he was. The healthy, exotic vibe he usually gave off melted into something darker – haunted even.
‘Tell me about it,’ I said, drinking again.
He regarded me for a moment. And I recognised that probing look – it was the same one I gave people that wanted to break through my barriers, while wondering if they had the grit not to recoil from what lay beyond.
‘My father was… aggressive, to say the least,’ he said finally. And a fluttering sensation overtook me at his trust.
And he could trust me. I understood where such insecurities came from, and I would lock them into a vault – alongside mine.
He continued, ‘Home wasn’t a safe place, and that kind of thing follows you, you know?
Makes you wary of people. Vinnie was the opposite.
Loud, flashy, always in the middle of everything.
He didn’t give a damn about where I came from, or what I was dealing with. He just decided I was worth his time.’
I angled my head, my chest tightening at the rawness in his tone. ‘That must’ve meant a lot, having someone you could lean on.’
‘It did,’ Cain admitted, a faint, almost self-deprecating smile curving his lips.
‘I probably would have turned out a lot worse without him.’ He paused, a troubled look glazing his eyes as he focused on something between the now and then.
‘We’ve been through a lot together. He’s one of the few people I trust completely.
Even if he does have a habit of pushing boundaries.
But I can even understand that, all things considered. ’
I laughed lightly at that, glancing towards where Vinnie had disappeared into the crowd. ‘I can see that.’
And then the words landed.
All things considered…
I turned back to him, brows drawn. ‘Wait. What do you mean by that?’
Letting out a slow exhale, he fixed his eyes on the table as though the sleek surface might offer a gentler truth than what he was about to say.
His knuckles pressed into a loose fist. Then, finally, the words came – a little too flat, too quiet.
‘His parents were found dead. Crime of passion, they’d said.
There were rumours about cheating, but he knew nothing about that.
He was a normal kid. That kind of thing. It… messed him up.’
I shifted in my seat, suddenly seeing their duo as something more grounded.
My family was chaotic, sure – voices raised, doors slammed, too much wine at dinner. But never this. Never fists. Never blood. Well… not within the family.
I could never even picture my parents in that kind of situation.
My mother had visited my dad in the hospital with flowers, the same way he had brought her bouquets from the store every morning.
And today, she spoke to the grave plate with his name etched in gold, arranging the flowers stirred by the wind.
Yet, somehow, Cain’s words still felt familiar.
Travis had never needed a reason, only a spark and an excuse to call it love.
Cain’s gaze held on me, unreadable for a moment before he shook his head, as if clearing his thoughts. ‘What’s your view on him?’
I smiled. ‘I think he’s exactly what he seems – a little over the top but a good man.’
Cain nodded in agreement. ‘That’s Vinnie.’
There was a comfortable pause between us.
For the first time that night, the tension seemed to ease, replaced by a quiet understanding that felt oddly intimate.
His gaze remained on me, the exhaustion in his eyes giving way to something warmer – heavier.
And just like that, I was slipping again, caught in the slow gravity of Cain D’Angelo.
I was definitely losing my mind, suspended between the fantasy of Ghost and the man sitting in front of me. The realisation hit like a boulder, and a laugh slipped out before I could bite down on it.
What the fuck was wrong with me? How had I let this happen?
I let a machine fuck me while my masked lover came on me – and now, only minutes later, I’m eyeing my boss like a goddamn snack.
Lines were blurring, boundaries breaking.
Yeah – no coming back from that.
Clearing my throat, I leaned over the desk and let the motion stretch my neckline just enough – which was absolutely unintentional. But the aftermath of Ghost had me in a weird mood.
Cain’s gaze dipped just below my chin, then was immediately yanked back.
His teeth clenched.
Dignity tapped me on the shoulder, and I sat back, grabbing my bottle. Taking a long, ungraceful swig, I coached myself: definitely not femme fatale.