“I like your suit. Reminds me of someone I know.” I look at Santiago. He wears a ball cap, hiding his eyes beneath the bill. His T-shirt and jeans mold to his firm torso. Sigh.
He smirks when my eyes connect with his. “Hey.”
Busted. How does one word out of his mouth make all the nerves in my body fire off in unison?
My cheeks heat. “Hi.”
His lip twitches. He sets Marko up at an empty table with his iPad before walking back toward me. “I didn’t get a chance to say thank you again before you snuck off this morning.”
He came all the way over here to say thanks? My heart betrays me, racing in my chest. “Yeah. I didn’t want to be late for my shift.”
“I see.” Santiago looks around the empty shop. Matteo is working in the back office, counting supplies since it’s a slow day.
“So...” I rock back on my heels.
“Well, I actually need to tell you something. You fell asleep last night and...” His voice trails off. His eyes slide down my body, and I feel every second of it.
“Well, to be fair, you didn’t say anything for a while and I kind of knocked out.”
He smiles, small and hesitant. “Yeah. About that... I don’t want to have more lies between us. It was fun—and a bit messed up—pretending in front of Maya and Noah about us, but that’s not how I usually am. I swear you’ve seen the worst parts of me.”
“Are you sure there’s a good part?”
He laughs. “Maybe. But really, my sister was excited about the idea of you so I just went along with it. She’s going through a rough time, and I did the first thing I thought would take her mind off things. And to be fair, a fake girlfriend was the first idea I could come up with to explain why there was a stranger in my house. But either way, it’s not right, and I plan on confessing the truth to her once—”
“You don’t have to do that. It’s fine. We can make something up instead. But it should be your last lie.”
“Okay.” Santiago clears his throat, bringing my attention to his thick neck and the muscles bulging out of the back of his shirt. He removes his cap and runs his han
d through his roguish hair. The muscles in his arms twitch, attempting to say hello.
Seriously. Can he please be less appealing?
My eyes slide from his body to his face. “Was that all you needed to tell me?”
“No. I don’t want you to be mad, but there’s something else you need to know about me. I’m hoping my honesty about the situation makes up for the dishonesty in the first place because I like hanging out with you. For real. So, please don’t be too angry, okay?” His voice carries a hopeful note, but his words make me apprehensive.
“It’s not fair to ask someone not to be mad before you—”
“Oh, mio dio, sei Santiago Alatorre!”
Santiago’s eyes widen. “I thought you were alone.” He curses under his breath.
I look over my shoulder to find Matteo’s mouth opening before closing again.
Matteo catches himself. He walks up to Santiago and offers his trembling hand. “You’re here! In my shop! Wow! My family has always been a huge fan of racing, and when we heard you were living here, we couldn’t believe it. Especially since no one has seen you in person. But here you are in my shop of all places!” Matteo’s cheeks turn bright red.
I turn toward Santiago. I look so damn hard at him that I wonder if my eyes will turn into lasers. Who is he and why does Matteo recognize him? And what does Matteo mean about racing?
“A fan?” My voice croaks.
“Let me explain.” Santiago’s eyes snap from me to Matteo and back to me again.
My stomach churns at the look on his face.
Matteo pushes through, clearly not reading the room. “Of course. We’ve been Bandini loyalists for decades.” His face looks like a kid on Christmas morning. This is the most excitement I’ve seen from my father, and it happens to be toward the one person I clearly don’t know much about.
The only thing I do know is Santiago Alatorre is a liar. A big, fat, impossibly handsome liar.