Page 13 of Effortless

“Apparently not, but hey, it gets me out of it, too. I don’t need an excuse on Sundays, now.”

“Nice.”

“Right? So hey, text me tomorrow sometime. We can try to meet up.”

“Will do,” Camilla said. “Love you.”

“Love you, girly.”

By the time Camilla got back inside the house, and found Zeke waiting with her safe glass of wine, she caught sight of her brother coming through the front door.

Cross, and someone else.

She only figured the guy had come with her brother because Cross chatted with him as the two navigated the people together.

Camilla didn’t have a clue who he was, but the guy was gorgeous.

Tall. Lean. Blue-eyed. Dark-haired. Strong features. Sharp lines.

Physically, he wasn’t anything to scoff at. She didn’t care how bold it seemed of her to look him over while she had the chance. If the guy didn’t want to be looked at like he was something she wouldn’t mind taking a bite out of, he shouldn’t look that fucking good walking across a goddamn floor.

Who was he?

Long fingers like he played an instrument, maybe. Or maybe like his fingers were built to play something a little more sinful. Built like he could run a ten-k without losing a breath. A half-smile that spoke of an easy nature, but could probably melt panties when he turned it on a woman.

There was nothing boyish about him.

Not a damn thing.

Dressed in black slacks, black silk shirt, and black leather shoes, he looked damn good. The guy walked with a confidence she knew was probably learned. Yet, his disinterested gaze swept over the faces of the people like he didn’t give a shit who they were.

He looked like all kinds of trouble.

And a whole lot of fun.

A little cocky. A touch of arrogance. Nothing innocent about him.

Exactly Camilla’s type.

The fact the guy was Cross’s friend didn’t bother Camilla at all. That didn’t make him off-limits to her. As long as it didn’t interfere with his business, her brother didn’t give a shit. Not to mention, he never told her who she could or couldn’t sleep with, date, or otherwise.

Cross was good like that.

“Who is that?” she asked Zeke while she still had the time. Soon, her brother and his friend would be too close to ask. “With Cross, I mean.”

“Oh, that’s Tom. He’s spending some time in the city, I guess.”

“Tom?”

“Tommaso Rossi—Chicago.”

Oh.

Oh.

Camilla caught Tommaso’s gaze with her own the closer he came. His straight eyebrow cocked high as his gaze drifted over her face. He then looked over the silver, bodycon dress she had slipped on earlier.

He was a lot like her, it seemed.