Page 18 of Naz & Roz

There was even a little set of glass French doors that led out to a small, fenced private section where Naz could chill outside.

That was the part his father hated.

Someone could break in.

Someone could get at Naz.

Right.

Fuckers could try.

Naz invited anyone who thought they were quick enough and smart enough to attack him to make the attempt, and see how that fucking worked out for them. He didn’t come from regular men—he didn’t think or act like one, either.

Luca was still going on even as Naz pulled a bottle of water from the fridge, cracked it open, and took a long swig of the cool liquid. He hadn’t been listening to anything his friend was saying because none of it mattered. Who gave a shit if Luca was stuck in his feelings about Naz taking an interest in Roz?

It didn’t make a difference. Frankly, Luca and Naz had been friends long enough that Luca should already know that Naz was going to do whatever the fuck he wanted to do. Nothing anyone said ever made a difference to what Naz wanted. And right now, he really wanted Roz.

It was only a passing comment from Luca that finally made Naz start listening a little closer to his friend’s rant.

“And she’s not even supposed to be dating right now, for fuck’s sake,” Luca bitched, grabbing his own bottle from the fridge. “And, because there’s more, I know how you are with females, Naz. You jump from one to the next, and you don’t stay with any for very goddamn long. My sister isn’t like some chick you pick up at the club—you can’t be messing with her like those women.”

“Go back a second,” Naz said.

Luca shot him a look. “What? Are you going to fucking deny you don’t even actually date when it comes to women, you just bust a nut, and move the hell on? Try to deny it.”

Nah, he wasn’t going to deny that at all.

“First of all,” Naz said, giving his friend a raised brow, “you know my life is chaotic, and busy. I don’t have time to be giving a shit about making sure the same woman wakes up in my bed every day, or that a woman even wakes up in my bed, for that matter. I don’t bring them here. Second, I don’t fill those females’ heads full of bullshit, either. They know exactly what they’re getting when it comes to me. I don’t pretend it’s something else, Luca. So, fuck off with the judgment, huh? Let’s not act like you’re a fucking saint, asshole.”

“I didn’t say I was, but there you go.” Luca waved at him with a dismissive gesture. “You said it, man. That is what you like to do—you’re not looking for more. Roz can’t be like that for you. Don’t use my sister, got it?”

“Just …” Naz shook his head. “Fucking relax, Luca. I like her. It’s not about the rest. I walked her home, and kissed her goodnight. By far the most innocent shit I have ever done with a girl, all right? Chill the hell out.”

Luca cleared his throat, and eyed Naz in that way again that made him feel like a bug under a microscope. Too many people in his life did that shit. Like they didn’t know what to make of him, and they were trying to figure him out.

“What?” Naz snapped.

Luca shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Really, nothing? Because you just ranted and bitched for ten minutes, and now it’s nothing, Luca?”

“Swear you’re not fucking around with her just to fuck around?”

Naz sighed, and glanced up at the ceiling. He had a good mind to tell his friend to mind his fucking business like he would any other time, but Naz understood why Luca was being a sensitive little ass right then. It wasn’t any other girl. It was his sister.

Naz wasn’t fucking with Roz, though.

Not like that, anyway.

“Swear it,” Naz said, “it’s not like that.”

“All right,” his friend murmured.

“Now go back—why the fuck can’t she date?”

“Because her whole life is basically controlled and dictated by furthering herself as a pianist, Naz?”

He simply stared at his friend and waited for Luca to explain more. Because that shit right there made no sense. He didn’t see why Roz couldn’t further her career, but also have a goddamn life. He did exactly that as a man trying to get his button for the mafia, running guns on the weekend, and a genius that constantly needed to feed his need for knowledge.