“For someone who doesn’t say much, you sure do talk a lot.”
I do, in fact, stop talking. But only so I can turn around and convey with the dead look on my face how impressed I am with the new Morelli’s question. “A woman is to be seen and not heard, is that it?”
He doesn’t answer me. He puts his hand back on my lower back and guides me into an alley. A dark, abandoned alley.
My steps slow, but he keeps urging me forward. “Um… so, Mateo is going to be really pissed if you murder me. He’s worked really hard at getting a son, and I’m finally having one. Did I read this wrong? Are you this mad about the college girlfriend? That seems like a long time for a Morelli to hold a grudge. That’s not supposed to be a Morelli thing. Well, Vince. Vince clearly holds grudges. But you—just trust me on this. Killing me is a terrible idea.”
“I’m not going to kill you,” Rafe remarks, casually, as he messes with his phone. “I might put a ball-gag in your mouth to shut you up, but I’m not going to kill you.”
“Says the man who just led me into a dark alley, away from all the people. I have Adrian on speed-dial, you know. He’ll just show up, you won’t even know how, and he’ll just… He was hiding behind a garbage can and you didn’t even know. He’ll douse you in gasoline and set you on fire right here in this alleyway and we’ll stop for milkshakes on the way home. I know we seem pretty civilized with the dresses and the dinner and Mateo all courteous, but we’re actually savages when we need to be. You don’t want to fuck with us. And you know what? Adrian is probably trailing us tonight anyway.” I shift my weight, glancing back at the well-lit sidewalk.
“I’m not afraid of Adrian,” he states calmly, placing his phone down on top of a metal bin stacked outside the back door of this random building.
“Then I don’t trust your—” I hesitate as music starts to play on his phone. Not just music, but Sinatra. The Best is Yet to Come, just like in the bar a minute ago. “—Judgment,” I finish, lamely. I barely miss a beat. “What are you doing?”
He doesn’t answer my inane, uncomfortable question. He just steps forward, taking my hand and drawing me near.
He’s dancing with me.
This is unexpectedly sweet. My stomach twists up in knots; my heart leaps into my throat. Heartburn consumes my chest. I’m tempted to rub my chest to try to ease the anxiety out of it, but he’s holding me in his strong arms, so I can’t.
Actually, I might’ve preferred he try to murder me. Adrian could’ve saved me from that. Adrian can’t save me from whatever this is.
Gross.
I keep my eyes on his chest—his broad, muscular chest. It’s not helpful. Mid-pregnancy makes me horny. Now I’m just admiring his chest. I’d be cool with that, but this whole dancing in the alley thing is a little too slick. With every second that he gazes at me and draws me in, I desire a little more desperately to get the hell away from him.
I can’t let him think it’s working. I don’t know why he had to go and ruin a perfectly good set-up to a one-night-stand. My desire to fuck him has completely evaporated, regardless of how hot he is, regardless of how nice it feels to be in his arms. If he tries to get me to open up with my clothes on, it stands to reason he only gets worse once they come off.
Letting him know I’m immune to his tricks, I ignore his pull and ask brightly, “So, do you pretend you’re going to murder all your dates, or just me?”
“I didn’t pretend I was going to kill you, you’re just excessively suspicious of men who lure you into dark alleys. You should really work on that,” he remarks, lightly.
I have to look up at him as I roll my eyes. “No wonder you liked Mia. I bet she followed you into dark corners without a care in the world.”
“She did.” He smirks, watching me. “You talk about Mia a lot.”
“It’s what all the cool kids do,” I inform him.
“Does that hurt your feelings?”
I shoot him a dirty look, wrinkling up my nose. “No. Mia’s my friend. Why would I care if people are obsessed with her? I don’t get jealous. More power to her.”
He doesn’t seem to buy what I’m selling. “You shared a lover. It’s not unreasonable that you would feel a sense of competition with her.”
“Okay, I don’t feel competitive with Mia. There’s no competition. We didn’t…” I stop just short of telling him we didn’t reach Mateo on the same level. I stop short of telling him that while Mateo loved me, it wasn’t like what he felt for her. That while I loved him, I realized watching them together there was something to their relationship that we never got close to. They got there immediately. Like they were meant to be. Nothing and no one could keep them apart—not even me.