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“The night of your engagement party, something happened…something that shouldn’t have happened.” He swallowed, his gaze becoming hooded. He took a deep breath. “The blonde chick from the masquerade was there. You just shut me down after I had this whole speech in my head about how the evening was going to play out. I fucked up and couldn’t find my words, and you kept looking for your fiancé. I felt like my world was collapsing, one wall at a time.” He rubbed his cheek now as though he’d been slapped with the truth. “I made a mistake. A huge one. I slept with the reporter. Actually, that was only a small error. Not the terrible one. The terrible one occurred afterward when I met your husband on the stairs.”
I looked up, searching his face. To my shock, I found Angelo blinking back tears. Actual tears. Tears I absolutely hated seeing there even though I knew what he was about to tell me was nothing short of awful. That it ruined me in a lot of ways. Whatever Wolfe and I were today, he could never erase the night he took my innocence by force.
“You told him we slept together?” My voice trembled.
He shook his head. “No. No. I wouldn’t do that. I just…I didn’t exactly tell him it didn’t happen, either. I was busy trying to get back at him instead of clearing up what looked like a misunderstanding. I was so mad, Frankie. And a part of me still hoped that you guys were going to break up over it. I wanted to give fate a little push. I wasn’t planning on ruining it for both of you. I mean, I was, but only because I thought you were on board. I thought you wanted to try giving him a chance because your parents pressured you. Not because, well…”
“Because I love him?” I finished, my voice hoarse. I squeezed his shoulder. He looked down at my hand and sniffed.
“Yeah.”
“I do,” I said, letting out an exasperated sigh. “God, Angelo, I’m so sorry, but I do. I never planned on falling for him. It just happened. But that’s the thing about love, isn’t it? It’s like death. You know it will happen one day. You just don’t know how or why or when.”
“That’s a rather dark view on life.” He offered me a grim smile.
I couldn’t be mad at Angelo. Not really. And especially when Wolfe and I had overcome what he and Kristen threw at us. Some would even call it the pivotal moment of our entire relationship.
“Still.” Angelo grinned, his boyish dimples on full display. The same smile that broke my heart every time I saw it on his face, peeking under his dark lashes. “If you ever change your mind, I’m here.”
“I’m compromised,” I answered him with an arched brow, blushing. He sighed theatrically.
“Believe it or not, goddess, so am I.”
“Get out.” I slapped his chest, feeling the tension evaporating from my bones. “When was your first time? With who?” The question sat on the tip of my tongue for years, but up until now, I never had the chance to ask. We were trying the whole friendship thing now. Well, sort of.
Angelo let out a sharp exhale.
“Junior year. Cheryl Evans, after calc class.”
“Was she little Miss Popular?” I grinned.
“Guess you could say that. She was the teacher,” he deadpanned.
“What?” I choked on my laughter. “You lost your virginity to your teacher?”
“She was, like, twenty-three. No other girl that age would put out without a serious relationship, and I was getting antsy. I was also saving the whole real thing for you,” he admitted. It made me sad and happy at the same time. That life took us in a different direction, but that Angelo whom I loved not too long ago was on the same wavelength as I was.
“Welp.” He gave me two thumbs down. “Maybe in the next lifetime.”
Last time he said it would happen in this one. I grinned.
“Almost definitely.”
We hugged, and I hurried across the lawn toward the line of double-parked vehicles full of college students bumming rides from one another, scanning the landscape for Smithy’s shielded, brand-new Cadillac. This time, Wolfe went above and beyond with all the accessories to make sure it was bulletproof. I spotted Smithy in the car, messing with his phone, and smiled to myself. Everything was going to be okay. Wolfe might not respond to the news with enthusiasm, but I hoped he wouldn’t be crushed, either. I was almost at the car when Kristen, the journalist, appeared out of thin air, jumping in front of me, looking haggard. Her hair was frizzy and the bags under her eyes purplish from what I assumed was lack of sleep.
My two executive protection agents got out of the car simultaneously, hurrying toward us. I raised my arm and waved them away.
