I wasn’t the man she kissed.
The man who made her waffles.
That was all fucking bullshit.
Or was it?
I leaned back in the executive chair, taking a break from work when my cell phone dinged with a new text conversation between Ava and Bella Parisi.
This weekend, they had plans.
Bella:I bought a few new dresses.
Bella:The red one will look smoking on you.
Bella:Red is your color, babe.
Ava:I’d rather wear jeans.
Bella:Fuck, no. We’re going to Spazio.
One of the five nightclubs and bars inside the Portofino Hotel and Casino. Of course, I would be there. Who else would keep her safe from the monsters in those places? She needed me to watch her back.
Bella:Let your hair down and have fun with me.
Ava:Fine. I’ll wear a dress.
Ava:I have plenty in my new apartment.
Bella:Will Nico be at Spazio?
Ava:I doubt it. He hasn’t spoken to me since he taught me how to give a BJ and ran out of the apartment.
Bella:Bitch. I hate you.
Bella:You were with Nico? OMG.
Ava:And Stefan.
Ava:And Angelo.
Ava:Oh, and Dante, too.
Bella:NO WAY!!!
Bella:So… How was it?
Bella:I want details about all of them.
I shook my head, laughing.
One day, Bella would be a Mafia wife. And her husband would be in for a real surprise because she was nothing like the typically shy and reserved princess.
Ava:Nico kisses me like he wants to steal my breath. No one has ever kissed me like that.
Bella:Like what? Spill, woman.
Ava:I don’t know how to explain it.