Chapter 12
TWELVE
MATEO
She disappears into her bedroom so fast it pulls a low laugh from my chest.
This might actually be more fun than I expected. Trying to coax her out of that shell she keeps herself wrapped in so tightly. She’s cautious. Guarded. And clearly terrified of letting anyone see too much of her, though I still don’t know why.
What I do know is that I hate it. I hate that someone spent years making choices for her, stripping away her confidence piece by piece. Antonio doing that to her didn’t help.
After giving her a few minutes, hoping she’ll change her mind and come back out, I walk down the hall toward her room. I stop outside her door and knock softly.
Nothing.
I listen, straining for any sound on the other side, but there’s no movement. Every worst-case scenario flashes through my mind. After a few seconds, I reach for the knob and thankfully it turns easily.
I step inside, fully expecting to find her stretched out on the bed, ready to tell me to leave. But the room is empty.
My pulse spikes as I glance around, a sudden edge of panic setting in. Then I notice the curtains shifting, fluttering slightly. The sliding glass door is open, and a rush of crisp March air sweeps in.
I move toward the balcony just as she comes into view.
She’s curled up on the outdoor loveseat, wrapped in an oversized Carter State sweatshirt, knees pulled to her chest. She’s staring out at the river below, the city lights reflecting off the water.
I approach slowly, careful not to startle her, and slide the door open just enough to step outside.
She looks up at me, her eyes wide, red, and irritated. She’s been crying. Shit. Did I do that?
“Hey,” I say gently. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she says softly, sniffling.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. “And don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope you’re not crying because of me.”
“I’m not,” she says quickly. “I know you’re just being nice and doing your job. Please don’t pity me.”
“Why would I pity you?”
“Um…” She trails off, staring down at her hands. After a moment, she exhales. “Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m crying. I haven’t done this in a long time.” She lets out a soft laugh. “And no one’s ever called me hot before.”
She lifts her gaze then, looking straight at me.
“Are you serious?” My voice lifts and is too sharp before I can stop it. I see her flinch, and guilt hits immediately.
I move closer and sit beside her on the loveseat, lowering my tone.
“Vanessa, believe me when I say this. You’re beautiful. Drop-dead gorgeous.”
She looks at me like I’m saying it just to make her feel better.
I cup her face gently, guiding her gaze back to mine.
“Like I said,” I murmur. “Gorgeous.”
She gives me a soft smile. Before she can argue, I lean in and kiss her—slower this time, but deeper, more certain. There’s intent behind it, not force. I want her to understand what I mean.
Her hand curls into my shirt, gripping it like she needs the anchor, and I slide one hand to her neck, steady and warm. When my fingers brush her collarbone, she startles slightly, then stills, trying to hide it.
I notice and file it away for next time.
I let my hands drift lower, brushing over her breast, testing the space between us. I watch her closely for any sign she wants me to stop. Her breath catches, just barely, but it’s enough to make my pulse spike. I tug lightly at the hem of her sweatshirt, giving her the chance to pull away.
She doesn’t.
Instead, she breaks the kiss and looks at me for a second, her expression unreadable. Her hands come up to mine, gently pushing them away.
Great. Too far.
But then, she reaches for the hem of her sweatshirt herself and pulls it over her head. The cool night air hits her skin, and goosebumps rise instantly along her arms.
She’s still wearing the blue T-shirt, the fabric fitting her perfectly, and suddenly I’m painfully aware of just how close we are. I see just enough to want more.
“I don’t think you realize,” I murmur, my voice low and growly, “what you’re doing to me right now.”
“Do you want to show me, or better yet, tell me?” she asks, softly.
God, this woman. Another groan slips out as my cock begs to be freed from my sweats. I decide I’ll do both and bring this girl over the edge.
“I would start by doing this.” I lean down and kiss that spot on her collarbone I noticed made her jump before. She does slightly, letting out a soft moan, and my cock twitches again.
“Well, well, well, that seems to be the spot.” I kiss it again. “And then I would do this.”
I go back to peppering kisses along her collarbone, my hands sliding down to the hem of her shirt before moving over the bare skin of her stomach. I can feel her breath hitch beneath my palms, her stomach tightening with each inhale.
I lift my head and look into her eyes. The look she gives me is uncertain, like she doesn’t know how she’s supposed to react.
“If you want me to keep going, I will. But once you say stop, I stop. Okay?”
She answers with a shake of her head.
“I need you to say it.”
“Yes,” she says quietly. It’s not quite enough, but I let it slide.
“Good girl. Now back to what I was doing.”
I keep my left hand on her waist and move my right hand to her neck.
I kiss her again, and this time she kisses me back with the hunger I was hoping for.
I weave my fingers into her hair and tug just enough to tilt her chin up.
I trail slow, deliberate kisses along her jawline, then down her neck to her collarbone.
She moans, and the sound makes my cock somehow even harder.
I know I need to move this inside before the neighbors get a show.
Before I can do anything else, she grabs my shirt, and I look up. She’s wearing a soft smile, but her eyes look glassy—like she’s on the verge of crying.
Shit.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I just don’t–”
“Don’t what?”
“I don’t want you to be disappointed. You’ve probably slept with hundreds of women. But I also don’t want you thinking I’m easy.”
“You’re the farthest thing from easy,” I tell her. “And for the record, I haven’t slept with hundreds of women. How much time do you think I actually have?” I roll my eyes.
She snickers, then laughs. Really laughs. The sound of it is sweet and unguarded, and for a second my brain stalls completely.
Then I groan and lean back in, kissing her again. She doesn’t stop me, so I keep going. At this point, we feel like teenagers sneaking around behind her parents’ backs.
Suddenly, police sirens cut through the air. She startles and jumps.
“You’d think I’d be used to those by now,” she says softly.
“You’re pretty jumpy, huh?” I joke. “Aren’t you used to sirens?”
“Surprisingly, no. You can’t always hear them inside hospitals. The EMTs turn them off once they pull into the parking lot. And when I do hear them, it just makes me want to help.”
Damn it, those soft eyes again.
The more I think about it, the idea of marrying this girl doesn’t sound so bad. But when does everyone plan on telling her? I could tell her right now, but then she’d assume that’s the reason I’m doing this.
I decide in this moment I need to wow her before I can do anything else. Before this turns into more than kissing. Because if I fuck her, there’s no going back, and I want her to know about the contract before that happens.
I also want to understand why she was crying before I walked out here.
I pull my hands away from her and say, “Tell me why you were crying.”
She shakes her head.
“Please,” I add, giving her a soft grin and the gentlest look I can manage.
“Um… if I tell you,” she says quietly, “you have to promise you won’t tell Gino, Uncle Kevin, or Aunt Lucy.”
I nod in agreement.
“I was crying because my life has been completely turned upside down,” she says. “And because I was thinking about my mom. I mean, I don’t remember her, obviously, but these last few days have made me think about everything I missed with her.”
She swallows, blinking hard.
“I held on to everything for so long. For years, I’d go into my room and cry after something good happened, because she and my dad weren’t there for it. Any time I won a race, after we got home, I’d cry myself to sleep wishing they’d been there to cheer me on.”
She sniffles, clearly about to cry again.
“Dad only ever came around on my birthday,” she continues. “He’d stay for one day. That was it. I knew he had other things to do, but he never called me. He always called Kevin.” Her voice wobbles. “They think I don’t know—but I do.”
She wipes at her cheek, then keeps going.
“I’d stay up at night listening. Uncle Kevin would have the phone on speaker in his office, and I’d sit outside the door just to hear his voice. He never asked about me. Not once. All he ever asked was if I was getting ready.” She shakes her head. “I didn’t even know what that meant.”
I can think of a reason, I think.
She’s letting the tears fall now. “My mother apparently made him promise not to drag me into what he was doing. But I guess he decided to do it anyway, regardless of what she wanted. I just… I wish he’d taken me with him after she died.
His decision didn’t just affect him or me. It affected everyone around him.”
She inhales sharply, and I take that as my opening. I pull her into me, wrapping my arms around her as she cries softly against my chest.
We sit there for a while. Eventually, she lifts her head, and I see her eyes bright, red-rimmed, still glassy from tears. I press a gentle kiss to her forehead.
“It’s getting cold. We should go inside,” I whisper to her.
She nods, and I stand, taking her hand and guiding her back through the sliding door and into her room. She reaches back to close the glass behind us.
Then I hear it.
Footsteps. Faint, but unmistakable.
My mind jumps straight to the worst-case scenario—someone’s here, and they’re not here for a friendly visit. Every instinct in me snaps into place as I start assessing angles, entry points, intent.
I lean in close to her. “Stay in here,” I whisper. “Hide.”
Terror flashes across her face.
“It’s going to be okay,” I murmur, pressing another kiss to her forehead before pulling back, already preparing for whatever comes next.
I step out of her room and move into the living room, keeping to the shadows. The TV is the only light source, flickering across the space. At first, I don’t see anyone.
Then I catch it—a shadow near the back nook.
They’re wearing a dark button down and slacks
I move slowly, intently, closing the distance. When I’m close enough, I loop my right arm around their neck and lock them into a chokehold. They react instantly, slamming their left elbow straight into my stomach with full force.
Fuck, that hurt.
My grip loosens just enough for them to twist around and throw a punch at my face. I barely dodge it and counter with my left fist, catching them hard in the jaw. They manage to roll with most of it, but it still lands.
They retaliate fast, smashing a fist into my nose. Pain explodes through my face. I’m pretty sure it’s broken now, and I feel my lip split.
I don’t give them time to recover. I drive two solid punches into their stomach, then snap one into the side of their head, right at the ear.
As the moonlight spills farther into the apartment, recognition hits me.
Oh shit.
I’m dead. He’s going to kill me.
I have to put a stop to this.
I back up a few steps, putting distance between us before I can even get his name out.
“Gino, what the hell!” Vanessa screams from behind me.
Never mind. She beats me to it.
“Vanessa. Are you okay?” he calls back instantly.
Fuck.
“Vanessa, are you okay?” he asks again.
“Yes, I’m fine,” she answers.
“I’m good too,” I cut in. “Figured you were wondering, man.”
“I figured,” Gino says dryly. “You really need to work on your jabs. I’ll barely have a bruise.”
“Shut up, asshole.”
“Neither of you were answering your phones or responding to texts. So, Kevin let me borrow his key to this place,” he says, irritation lacing his voice now.
Vanessa crosses the room and flips on the living room light. The sudden brightness makes my head throb harder, the punch Gino landed catching up with me.
“That’s going to swell pretty badly,” she says, studying my nose.
She disappears into the bathroom and comes back with the first-aid kit. Stopping in front of us, she looks between the two of us and points at the table.
“Sit.”
We both comply. I take the chair directly across from her, while Gino drops into the seat beside her. She turns her attention to the cut on Gino’s eyebrow, gently dabbing it with gauze.
Once she is done with Gino, she drags her chair over and settles right in front of me.
She grabs fresh gauze and presses it gently to my lip, then shifts it to my nose to catch the blood that’s still wet.
She disappears into the kitchen and comes back with a damp cloth, carefully wiping away the dried blood from my face.
Her fingers are warm and gentle as she moves them over my skin.
She straightens and pulls a bag of frozen carrots from the freezer, handing it to me. “Put this on your nose and lean back.”
I do as she says. She leaves the room, closing the bathroom door behind her.
“What the hell were you two doing that neither of you answered your phones?” Gino demands. “And then when I get here, neither of you opened the door.”
I don’t answer.
“You asshole! Did you fuck her?” he snaps.
“No,” I say flatly. “Jesus, man. I didn’t fuck her. And wouldn’t you want us together, considering what you’re planning?”
That gets him to shut up for a second.
“Good,” he finally says. “Then why didn’t either of you open the door?”
“Is this a fucking interrogation?”
“Yes.”
I groan. Great. “We were sitting on the balcony.”
“Doing what?”
“Seriously, she’s been your sister for a few days and you’re acting like you’ve known her your whole life.”
“Answer the fucking question, Mateo,” he grits through his teeth.
I’m a fucking dead man if I tell him the truth. “We were sitting out there talking.” Not a total lie.
“Is that why she was crying?”
“What?” I snap, caught off guard. Shit. He saw her red and irritated eyes.
“Why was she crying?” he yells.
Great. At this rate, the neighbors are definitely calling the cops—if they haven’t already.
I don’t answer, and the silence is all it takes.
Gino’s expression darkens. He stands abruptly and, in one swift stride, crosses the room. Before I can react, he grabs me and slams me against the wall.
“What the fuck!” I shout.
The look in his eyes is pure fury—I’m going to fucking kill you—and I don’t doubt it for a second.
Then the interruption comes, sharp and perfect.
“Stop!” Vanessa yells.
Gino releases me instantly.
“Both of you,” she says, voice steady but furious, “sit the fuck down.”