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“And you won’t let me judge your past for myself? What if I’m okay with whatever you’re keeping from me?” I could hear the panic rising in my voice.
“You won’t be,” he said without looking at me.
“My sister knows, right? She’d never let you near me if she thought you were dangerous, though.”
“Natalia doesn’t know everything, trust me.” He stole a look at the cake, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was remembering Bianca and her love of reading. Some of my books back home had once belonged to her, and I planned to give those childhood favorites to Chiara one day.
“I hoped one day we’d ...” Why waste my words? “If you truly think there’s no chance for us, I don’t see how I can live next door to you anymore. I should move out when the lease is up in November.”
“No.” Enzo abruptly reached for my hand and threaded our fingers together, tugging me his way, and I nearly crashed into his chest. “You can’t leave.”
“How am I supposed to move on with my life? Date again when what I want is on the other side of the apartment wall?”
That look of chaos returned to his eyes, and now I recognized it as something other than anger. An internal battle of restraint.
Tipping my head toward the rolling cart, I whispered, “Enzo ... you can’t have your cake and eat it, too.” His silence only emboldened me, had me feeling the need to stand up for myself. “Promise me you won’t give any man I date the third degree, then. Look me in the eyes and tell me you won’t stare them down when they show up on my doorstep.”
His gaze flicked to the floor between us for a few agonizing seconds. “I can only promise I won’t kill any of them.” His eyes returned to my face, and the dark expression there had me swallowing as he added, “Unless, of course, it’s to keep you safe.”
TWO
Enzo
Three Weeks Later
“I came here to work out, not to get my ass whooped.” Ryan bent over, holding his abdomen. “I turned forty this year. I’m too old for this shit.”
“Yeah, yeah, and I’m thirty-seven, so what?” I slapped a hand over his shoulder, urging him to stand tall, knowing he wasn’t too old for anything. He’d still be running ops for DEVGRU, more commonly known as SEAL Team Six, if he hadn’t been medically forced into retirement.
“You think I’d let one of my best friends marry a guy who wasn’t tough enough to go up against me?” That had him upright fast.
“Oh, you let Talia marry me, huh? Is that right?”
“That’s right.” A sly grin slid across my lips, one I hoped would lure my friend into raising his gloves again. I needed to relieve some tension, and since I couldn’t do the one thing I wanted to do, I needed to hit something.
Ryan let go of his side, still a little breathless, since we’d been sparring for nearly an hour. “I know what you’re trying to do, and it’s not going to work.” He pointed to the punching bag to our left. “Beat the bag up instead of me. My wife will have both of our heads if we keep at it and I come home with bruises.”
I looked around the mostly empty boxing gym. It was Monday evening, and one of the nights the restaurant was closed during the week. I always went a little stir-crazy when I wasn’t working. I needed to be doing something with my hands, or I’d wind up ...
I let go of those thoughts and surrendered, heading for the heavyweight bag. “Fine.”
“Does your stress have anything to do with the fact Maria is going on a date tonight?” he asked once opposite the black bag.
I went still at Ryan’s words, and he closed one eye as if preparing for a swing to the face. “She’s what?”
“Maybe I wasn’t supposed to tell you that?” He snatched the sides of the bag and tipped his head, a request to pound it and not him.
I made a come-hither motion, shaking my head. “Too late. Details. Now.”
Maria had told me three weeks ago on her birthday that she had planned to date again, but she hadn’t brought up that she was dating again. I’d hoped a lot more time would pass before the dreaded day came.
Ryan’s shoulders fell, and he let go of the bag. “Talia’s gonna have my head anyway, I see.” He dragged his gloved hand over his bearded jawline, his eyes on the mat beneath his bare feet. “Tonight is Thomas’s night with Chiara, and Maria was asked out, so she said yes. I’m sorry, man. You can’t expect her to wait around forever.”
I let go of a gruff breath and struck the bag so hard, it nearly slammed into Ryan. He caught it between his palms and looked around it with narrowed eyes.
“I can’t be with her.” I flicked my wrist, a demand to release the bag so I could hit it again, but he held it hostage between his gloved palms.
“You really think you can watch her date? And what happens when she brings a guy home? You’re not going to break down the door and kill the guy?”
