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“Suit yourself,” he says before bringing it back to his lips.
And he doesn’t say anything else.
I’m surprised by how nice the companionable silence is. I’ve never hung out with him when Maximo wasn’t with us, but the silence isn’t awkward or pressing, it just is.
I watch the party while he watches Daria.
The two Costa cousins who I had no idea existed are interesting. They both seem to have that same fire as the rest of the family, especially Primo. Yet there’s this calmness and easy going vibe to them that draws you in.
Earlier today I’d run into Primo and he’d looked me over from head to toe before saying “My cousin could have done worse,” a wicked grin on his face as he’d winked at me before leaving.
It’d thrown me right off.
And since Maximo and I aren’t talking I haven’t been able to get him to give me a run down on the two or what their beef is with Lucia. Something that has never come up in the many years that I’ve been with the family.
I turn my head to look at Polo, “Do you know the backstory on Ettore and Primo?” I ask him.
His eyes are half lidded now but he looks at me, nodding his head. “Lets make a long story short: Vincenzo killed their daddy, they left, started a gang in New York. They have a good partnership with the family still.” He snaps his fingers, “Most importantly, Lucia hates them.”
“Are you gossiping?” Daria’s soft voice catches me off guard.
She’s standing in front of us, her hands on her hips as she stares at Polo with a frown on her face. He sits up a little straighter, his eyes roaming over her exposed skin before stopping on her face. He gives her a slow smile.
She doesn’t seem impressed. She snatches the joint from his hand, dropping it to the ground. She stomps it out with her flip flop.
“Bellissima!”He shrieks in disbelief, looking at the crumbled joint.
“We talked about this, Polo. All that smoking isn’t good for you,” she says in disapproval.
It’s all I can do to keep my laugh inside.
“It’s one joint,” he defends himself.
“You had a cigar on the way in and I know you had your morning cigarette as well earlier, along with one at lunch.”
Shit, when she puts it that way it does sound like he smokes like a goddamn choo choo train.
“And how do you know all of this?” he asks her, raising a brow.
She smirks at him, “I have my ways.”
He sends me a look of disbelief, gesturing at her.
I hold my hands up in surrender, “Leave me out of it,” I tell him.
“You’re no good, Enzo,” he says in disgust before looking back at Daria. “You owe me a joint.”
She scoffs, turning on her heels and walking away. I think that’s enough answer as to whether or not she’s going to be replacing his joint.
“Unbelievable,” he says but I don’t miss the little smile on his lips as he follows her, his eyes on her ass.
Poor fucker. He’s a complete goner.
And maybe I’m one too, because when Winter smiles at me from a distance, my heart starts beating quicker in my chest. And when she starts walking my way, I have to steel myself, putting a freeze on the excitement moving through me.
She leans her shoulder against the poolhouse so she’s facing me. “Are you going to stay tucked over here all day?” she asks.
There’s something freer to her these days, an ease and softness that makes me regret every vile thing I’ve allowed to happen to her, and all the other things that I’vepersonallydone to her.
