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I look around the group to make sure no one catches me staring at him… not anyone can blame me. I shake my head to listen to what Alessia has to say.
“My dad,” Alessia explains, smiling up at the older man who pats her hand.
“And my brother,” she points at the handsome man.
My brain hits a snag. For a second, I’m devoid of thought as I look between her and the man. “What?”
Alessia looks at me in surprise, not expecting my reaction. “Um, I said I wanted you guys to meet my dad and my brother.”
My eyes narrow. I hold back my gasp when I realize who I’ve been drooling over. That’s Lorenzo? How can he be Alessia’s toxic, annoying, possessive older brother?
I mourn the loss of the fantasy I had already conjured up of our bodies entwined in sweat. Even as we turn politely to Alessia’s dad.
“Hello sir,” we greet Mr. Lombardi, who smiles warmly.
“So, these are the lovely young women my daughter befriended in France. It’s so lovely to meet you all,” he asserts.
“It’s nice to meet you as well, sir,” we respond, almost in unison.
“Mr. Lombardi?” a middle-aged man calls from behind him.
“Ah, hold on a minute,” he says to the man before turning back to us. “If you’ll excuse me, ladies, there’s someone I need to speak with. Alessia, please say hello to my guest.”
We watch as the two walk away and turn to look at Enzo, our disapproval clear as day. He stares at us with a look of confusion and discomfort, and I do a mental dance. Although it doesn’t make up for his past actions, it’s still a pleasant sight.
“Hello, ladies?” he says with an uncomfortable smile, and we glare at him.
“Hello,” Jenna says coldly. She folds her arms and glares even harder, giving him little room for conversation or friendliness on her part.
Rachel does nothing but give him a tight-lipped nod before looking away, not bothering to say hello, like Jenna. Louise, on the other hand, presses her lips together in a sarcastic smile before turning to walk away. The others follow her, not looking back.
Enzo watches as they walk out. It’s easy to read the confusion on his face. He turns to me with an incredulous look, as if wanting an explanation for the hate he’s getting, but like the others, I glare at him.
“It’s not a pleasure,” I say before walking after my friends.
I can feel his eyes on me, but I don’t turn to check.
Goddamn it! Why is this awful man so hot? I don’t know what I was expecting, but I should have known he’d be fine. Alessia’s hot as hell, so it makes sense her brother would be too. Unfortunately, he’s an asshole, so he doesn’t count.
Ugh… what a waste.
I like handsome men, and although I’d told myself I wouldn’t go hunting at Alessia’s wedding, I would break that promise and seduce him. He was too good to pass up. Too bad a face like that is wasted on him. I hate men like him the most.
“I know we aren’t supposed to hold a grudge, but I just can’t help it,” Jenna remarks, as I join my friends. She towers over the rest of us as we stand in a circle. Jenna’s 5’11 and 6’2 in heels. We have to look up when she speaks.
“Right? I know Alessia said he’s already apologized, but I just can’t accept it. Surely, an apology can’t be enough. Not when he’s a young person,” Louisa chimes in. “I can understand her father. He’s an older man and probably grouchy because of his age and how he grew up, but Enzo is too young to be stuck with such an outdated mentality.”
Her hazel eyes are dark with rage, and she squints in his direction like she’s plotting against him. I chuckle to myself. Louisa’s cute even when she’s upset.
“Alessia said she’s mentioned therapy to him so many times, but he’s refused to go because he thinks he’s ‘above therapy’,” I chip in.
“Of course, he would. That’s exactly what you’d expect from someone like him,” Jenna accepts. The rest of us nod our acknowledgment.
Anyone who doesn’t know would think it means we all don’t like him. It’s with good reason, though: the misguided, misogynistic protection had almost ruined Alessia’s life. Enzo and his dad had forced Alessia to run from Italy to France to find freedom. She was way too naïve for her age when we found her, tentatively trying things out.
She nearly got herself drugged. Jenna and I had been on opposite sides of the bar, but we made a beeline for her at the same time, catching the guy after he had spiked her drink. It was how we became friends. She was way too self-conscious and blamed herself for the incident. Spending time with us helped her come out of her shell and learn how to navigate the dating scene safely.
She had told us her family was overbearing, and we understood. We didn’t know just how crazy they were. I’d been so sad when she finally told us. We’d been thinking she was just a shy girl, but she had suffered too much trauma from them.
