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I narrowed my eyes. “What about fake-dating don’t you understand?”
“Fake-dating?” Cristo chimed in like the fucking annoying little brother he was.
Matteo sighed. “I know she’s not the obvious choice, and I know you’re a little on edge right now, but why don’t you just relax a little and enjoy the view?”
I raised a single eyebrow at him, which made him chuckle.
Fee used that exact moment to place the frothy drink in front of me. “Yes, why don’t you relax a little and enjoy the view?” she said.
Cristo stared at her, then me, then grabbed the cocktail. “And drink this while you do so because you’re sure as shit not a sugary cocktail kind of guy.” She placed an espresso right in front of me, then crossed her arms—which pushed her glorious tits up—and glared at me.
My little defiant princess—was right. I’d learned early on not to drink on the job. And even if, I sure as shit wouldn’t drink any of what I’d ordered.
I took the espresso cup, held her gaze, and downed the piping-hot liquid in one throat-searing gulp.
“Damn, I didn’t mean you’d actually drink it like that—it’s crazy hot,” Fee said, her eyes wide as I swallowed.
The heat of the espresso burned down my throat, but I refused to show any discomfort.
She handed me a glass of water.
“Never doubt me, Fee,” I replied and placed the empty cup on the saucer with a soft clink and pushed it towards her over the counter.
“Hmmm,” she responded, her green eyes narrowing playfully. “There are a million reasons to doubt you,” she said, leaning forward.
I held her gaze.
The tension between us was palpable, and if it weren’t for the crowded situation, I might have lifted her over the bar, stepped between her spread legs, and demanded a kiss to make my throbbing mouth better.
Fuck.
Maybe I should just do that anyway.
“But in a completely irrational way, on a borderline self-destructive level”—she shook her head as if she couldn’t quite grasp it herself, then leaned even closer—“I don’t doubt you. Somehow, despite being cocky AF. You’re genuine.
“And most disturbingly…” She leaned even closer. “…You wormed your way in. And I trust you, Alessandro Falcone.” She seemed floored by the revelation.
Astonished.
As if saying it out loud made her realize her feelings for the first time.
And fuck me, if I didn’t feel the same. I shouldn’t like her as much as I did. Shouldn’t obsess about her as much as I did.
And yet. I’d thought of little else these last couple of days.
Had had her in my lap more often than not. And right now, I wanted nothing more than to feel her lips soften under mine—to kiss her until she gasped for air.
I straightened and cleared my throat, painfully aware of Matteo and Cristo’s eyes on me, following our conversation. I had to keep my composure, at least for now.
She handed me the glass of water, and I downed it. The cool liquid doused the burning sensation.
I handed it back to her, and for a moment, we both held onto it.
I leaned forward again. “Good girl,” I murmured, my voice low enough not to reach the ears of anyone else.
Her cheeks flushed a light pink, and I could see the fire ignite in her eyes.
Fiona Donnelly might not like it, but she liked being called a good girl.
