“Please leave. Now. You keep getting me into trouble, so please… just stop.”
Settimo’s eyes darken, and he stands up straight. The smirk is gone, and his lips are now in a straight line. “Did Paolo hurt you again?”
I shake my head. “No, but I’m certain if I keep hanging around you, your brother will. He thinks I’m pumping you for information.”
“I’m not giving you information.”
“I know. Tell that to him.”
Settimo’s face relaxes, and he puts his hands in his pockets. “Don’t worry about my brother. Or Paolo, or anyone for that matter. You seem to be underestimating the level of control I have on most people.”
Mostpeople.
Nikita pops into my mind, and I immediately shove him out. I can’t even go there.
I gesture to the turtleneck I’m using to cover my bruise today. My father doesn’t know about that either. “Control that you, thus far, have chosen not to use.”
Settimo frowns. “That won’t happen again. I’ve taken care of it.”
I figured as much. Paolo has been especially peaceful with me since Lorenzo’s engagement party.
“What did you say to Paolo?”
Settimo sighs and leans against the counter again. “We’re getting a little off topic here, don’t you think? Come on, just agree to go out with me. One night. If you don’t want to see me again after, I’ll leave you alone.”
“I’m about to be a married woman, so you’ll leave me alone anyway.”
“People have affairs all the time, Alex. Especially when their spouses are gay. You think Paolo isn’t going to pound town on some poor, unfortunate soul,right now?”
“You can be really crude, you know that?”
Settimo smiles. “Tonight. Seven o’clock, I’ll pick you up. What do you say?”
I bite my lip and look behind me again. I need Settimo to leave, and it looks like he’s serious about not doing so until I agree to thisridiculousouting with him. So I have to say yes, right?
Fuck, I so badly want to say yes.
“You can’t pick me up from my house.”
“Is that a yes?”
“If you go anywhere near my father, I promise I will never speak to you again.No onecan know if we do this. Paolo has told me to stay away from you about a hundred times, and honestly, I don’t trust you when you say you’ll protect me from the repercussions of disobeying him.”
I cringe when I say the word “disobey”. Like I’m a dog or something. But it’s the truth, whether I like it or not. The asshole can take everything from me.
Settimo nods. “Fair enough. I won’t tell anyone, and I won’t pick you up at your house. It’ll be between you and me.” He winks.
The door behind me opens, and I stiffen. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.
I stand perfectly still while Settimo steps in front of the meat case and pretends to study the steaks. Footsteps pound on the ceramic tile, heading away from us, and I turn toward them in time to see my father shut the bathroom door.
Settimo looks up at me through lashes that are unfairly long and grins. “So… where am I picking you up?”
I dart my eyes between him and the bathroom door. “I have a class until eight at the Art Institute. I park in section 8B.”
Settimo flashes me his teeth and backs up a step. “See you then.” He glances toward the closed bathroom door, then spins and walks out of the butcher shop, the bell chiming as he does.
I hold my breath when my father steps from the bathroom and walks toward me. My eyes are glued to the cash register. If I wasn’t catatonic, I would attempt to look busy.