I would lick sweat off of the man's stomach.
"Sorry," I said, shaking my head, trying to knock the attraction loose. It was pointless, of course. Because if I was being honest with myself, it had been growing since that first night.
Superficially, of course. And likely only because I was in a particularly long drought.
And, let's face it, Santi was a good-looking man.
No, scratch that.
He was fucking gorgeous, actually.
I mean, that whole Family was now that Art was dead and all his buddies were gone too.
But Lorenzo and Emilio and Brio and Santi?
They could be models.
And maybe I only got so thirsty for Santi because I was closest to him. I saw him the most.
That was all it was.
Proximity to a hot guy.
"I wasn't expecting you," Santi said, eyes drifting over me.
No, not over me.
I never caught him doing once-overs.
He was probably just looking at the dinosaur costume in my hand. That made much more sense.
"Sorry. I just wanted to show Avi that I fixed his costume. The little butthead told me I couldn't do it," I added, smiling. "I want to rub it in his face a little bit," I admitted, getting a chuckle out of Santi.
"He likes being right," Santi said.
"I think that is a Costa Family trait," I told him.
"Probably," he admitted. "Avi passed out. I think he might be coming down with something. He never crashes this early."
"He was stuffy earlier," I agreed. "Ugh. I picked up a couple of his snot rags," I added, grimacing, wondering if I'd remembered to wash my hands after or not.
"Hopefully it was just allergies," Santi said, shrugging.
"Yeah," I agreed, moving across the open space to put the costume on the couch. "Well, I guess I'll get going."
"Don't," Santi said. Quick. Maybe even a little too quick. Or maybe I was just overanalyzing him too much because he was close and halfway naked and stupid hot. Yeah, the latter seemed more likely. "Stay. It's late. Why bother going back to your place?" he asked. "You practically live here now anyway," he added, laying on the persuasion.
And, honestly, he didn't need to.
Sure, I was somewhat fond of my apartment. It was mine. I'd spent a lot of time there.
But if I was being offered the choice between my tight shoebox and his palatial apartment? Well, I was going to pick the apartment every time.
He had the fancy sheets and the fluffy towels and the high-end coffee that didn't burn a hole in my stomach.
"Okay. That sounds good," I agreed. "Just in case Avi is sick, and needs to go to the doctor in the morning," I added, as if I needed an excuse even after he'd basically told me to stay over.
"Let's just hope he's not sick. He's a terrible patient."
As it turned out, Avi was just a little under the weather for a day or two. Lots of soup and sleep.
But the little petri dish went ahead and spread it to me.
I got big sick.
And I was a much worse patient than Avi.
"Bud, go," I grumbled, yanking my blanket tighter around my freezing body.
"I already got sick," he said, shrugging.
"I don't want you to get re-sick."
"You don't look so good."
"Thanks, bud," I said as the shivers started.
"I'm gonna call Dad."
"No, don't call Dad," I objected. "I'm fine. Really. I just need a little nap, okay? Don't burn the place down while I just get a little sleep."
"Okay," he agreed, rocking back on his heels.
If I were feeling even one-one-hundredth myself, I would have heard the lie. Avi, for all his many skills, was a pretty awful liar. Which worked in the favor of his caregivers.
"Avi," I whimpered when I felt a hand on my head. "I said to stay away. I don't want you sick again."
"It's not Avi, Alessa," Santi's voice said, low, soft, soothing.
"He didn't burn the place down, did he?" I grumbled.
"Not yet," Santi said as his hand slid from my forehead to the back of my neck. "You're burning up, babe," he said. I was sure he was just being nice, but the pet name was doing things to me that I knew were dangerous. "Have you taken anything?"
"No."
I'd woken up feeling like absolute crap. I'd barely managed to drag myself out of bed to check on Avi before I'd fallen right back into it, every muscle feeling like it was aching.
"Have you had anything to drink?"
"No."
"Okay. Alright. One minute," he said, giving my shoulder a squeeze through my blanket.
I'd somehow managed to pass out before he got back, needing him to nudge me awake again.
"Come on, Less. I need you to sit up to take this," he demanded when I tried to burrow deeper into my blanket cocoon. "Alright," he said, and I heard the clink of the glass getting put on the nightstand before his hands were reaching under the blankets, and grabbing me at my sides.