Tito is handsome and brilliant and, in another life, probably perfect for me. I might even be perfect for him. I don’t know what his type is physically, but I know our minds are certainly a match for one another. We get along better than I ever have with anyone. But in this life, I don’t see how.
Vince hinted that this could be more than a one-off job. I’d just wanted to gauge his seriousness when I’d asked, but now that I’m actually here, I want to stay. I want a career like this, and the money now just feels like a perk. A side benefit of the fact that I’m doing work that really challenges and drives me for the first time in my life.
I always promised myself I wouldn’t compromise anything about myself or my dreams for a man. I’ve never let a man seduce me into changing my mind about their value in my life, and I’m not about to start now. And even if I were willing to entertain the idea….
A man like Tito, powerful, brilliant, good-looking, would have expectations in the bedroom that I can’t imagine I could ever satisfy. A man like him, nerdy as he is, doesn’t want a nervous virgin who’s only ever been kissed a handful of times. I’d disappoint him and embarrass myself if we went there, and then where would I be?
I’d lose both my friendly relationship with Titoandmy job, and for what?
“We should both go to dinner.” I break the silence when he hasn’t spoken since pulling away from me. The confusion on his face makes me realize how I phrased it, and I shake my head, waving my hands like I’m erasing a whiteboard. “No, no, no. I meant, alone, separately.”
A smirk tugs at the corners of his lips, making me shut up, my cheeks flaming pink all over again.
“Now, who’s word-fumbling?” He grins and stands up, stretching. “Let’s catch up with the others.” He tilts his chin towards the doors, and I nod.
I stand up without thinking about how close I am to him, and the second I realize my body is nearly brushing his as I stand, I take a step back. My sleeve catches on the arm of the chair behind me, and as we turn to go, I lose my balance. I feel myself falling past Tito before I can grab anything to stop it. Just before my face is about to smack onto the cement floors, Tito’s arm goes around my waist, pulling me back upright and steadying me.
“Thank you.” I swallow, not because my head was about to burst open on the ground, but because we’re now an inch apart, and I can feel the heat of his body. It’s like sunbathing on a perfectly breezy summer day. Moving away from him seems impossible, and I don’t want it to be an option. His leg, running alongside mine, his hip pressing to my stomach, his hand clings to my waist as if I’d fall again without him to hold me. Honestly, I might try that if he lets me go now.
“Are you alright?” His soft concern makes my knees weak, sono, Tito. I’m not alright.I nod instead of being honest, brushing stray curls from my forehead that probably fall right back into position after I move my hand.
“Okay.” He inspects my eyes for any hint of injury, but he won’t find anything except nerves if he dives deep enough.My heart is fluttering like a trapped bird, and I don’t think it’s from the near-fall. It’s from Tito’s touch, his closeness, and how badly I want to turn in his grasp and plaster my body against his broad, hard frame.
His long brown hair was pulled back into a bun before my fall, and in the quick maneuver to catch me, it must have fallen out. It’s down to his shoulders in waves, and he narrows his eyes for a moment when he sees me inspecting the shine.
“You have nice hair,” I whisper stupidly.
“Not as nice as yours,” he murmurs, his voice just as quiet and husky like smoke.
I look back into his green eyes that remind me of borosilicate glass. Theydolook like glass, his eyes, glistening like the edges of clear water washing over early morning beaches. There’s a sharp intelligence behind those eyes, a mind always in motion. I want to understand his mind, let him talk to me in his kind voice, and watch his face light up the way it does when he speaks about something he loves.
In two weeks, I’ve come to feel things for this man that I didn’t think were possible for me to find space to feel for anyone. I’d thought I’d kept those feelings decently locked up, but it feels like Tito just broke the emergency glass and took a hatchet to the lock.
“Should we go?” I ask quickly, trying to cover up why I’ve just stared at him for so damn long. He doesn’t seem to mind the staring. Nor do I. At least, not until I realize it’s not normal to gawk at someone for minutes.
“Yeah.” He nods, slightly biting his lip. I let out a breath when he’s moved far enough ahead of me because I don’t think enough oxygen is in my body. My head's a little woozy, and my stomach’s feeling like I swallowed a boulder.
As we head out into the humid evening air, I check my phone to see a text from McLaren.
“Ghost Pizza Parlor, Culver Ave.” I read it aloud again, so Tito can hear from wherever he’s parked, and then I realize he’s right beside me.
“Gotcha.” He rubs his ear that I just yelled in.
“Sorry.” I laugh, and he shakes his head.
“No, all good. You’ve got great projection.” We laugh for a second as we approach my car. I unlock the door, and he grabs the handle before I can, opening it for me.
“Woah.” I choke out accidentally.
“Oh.” He steps back when he realizes what he’s done, going out of his way to open a door for me that I was already unlocking. “Sorry.” He grimaces and backs away a step, and that’s when I notice the car on the other side of him, shiny, black, and strongly resembling the Bat-Mobile, although this one has a driver sitting in it, waiting on Tito, I’d guess. Suddenly my Subaru makes me feel a little embarrassed, although that isn’t really fair to her. She’s been a good car.
“I like yours better.” Tito’s voice brings my eyes back to his.
“My car?” I raise my brows, glancing back at his.
“Yeah. It’s got…carattere.”
“I believe that would’ve just been easier to say in English.”