Page 71 of Naz & Roz

Her cheeks pinked. “Nazio!”

“Never gonna forgive you for that,” he muttered. “Ever.”

“Oh, my God,” his mother huffed, “go see your sister.”

“That was the plan, yep.”

Naz barely dodged the playful slap his mother aimed at the back of his head before he slipped inside his sister’s dressing room. It seemed like, for the moment, it was only Cece and her makeup artist in the room. He doubted his sister was getting very much quiet time today. He’d already made the trip across the church to see—and possibly threaten—her husband-to-be, but this was the first time he actually got to see his sister today.

“Hey, you look great, Naz,” Cece said, finally noticing him. She gave him a smile, but quickly went back to doing what the makeup artist told her. “Where’s Ma?”

“Pestering Dad. And aren’t I supposed to be the one telling you how beautiful you look today? It’s your day, Cece.”

His sister—who looked entirely too much like their mother, but with a mind like their father—grinned over at him. “I know how I look, thank you.”

Yeah, just like their mom and dad.

For a moment, the two siblings stared at one another. Naz thought, in those seconds, their entire childhood passed before his eyes. Compliments of that brain of his, there wasn’t one moment of his life growing up with Cece as his big sister that he couldn’t remember.

She taught him how to walk.

He took his first steps for her.

It was going to be some kind of fucked up situation for him when he woke up next week, and realized his sister wasn’t in the same city as him. Sure, they didn’t hang out or talk as much as they used to … life kept them busy like that … but damn, she was always there. A drive or phone call away when he needed her.

Always.

Cece smiled a bit, as though she could read his mind. “California isn’t that far away, Naz.”

“Yeah, I keep trying to tell myself that about Australia, too … but fuck it if I don’t still feel like shit over it, huh? Except I know I shouldn’t feel like that about it at all. Same with this. It’s good—you going to Cali with Juan, that’s good. And I still feel like … well, fuck what I feel. It’s about you, right? You’re happy.”

His sister didn’t need for him to explain. She already knew.

He told Cece everything.

“You’ll figure out a way to make it work, Naz,” Cece said. “You’re too brilliant not to.”

Naz slipped down another back hallway in the church in search of Roz. Someone had said they thought they had seen her come this way, and he felt like he was on a wild fucking goose chase because—

“Jesus Christ!”

He almost fell face first into the floor of an unknown room when Roz suddenly appeared in the doorway, and yanked him inside. It took him far too long to realize it wasn’t just any unknown room.

No, it was the goddamn confessional.

But it was way too late to think about that because she had shut the door, and backed him up against it with a kiss that silenced his chaotic mind. He couldn’t even ask what in the hell she was doing because her hands were already undoing his pants, and slipping beneath his boxer-briefs. Add the tightening of her palm around his hard dick, and the fast strokes of her hand that woke him up in an instant, and Naz was a goner.

He was already trying to get his hands under the many layers of chiffon keeping her hidden from him.

“Why do these dresses have so many fucking layers?” he growled against her mouth.

“Because I don’t think this is what you’re supposed to be doing when you wear them, Naz.”

Her laughter quickly melted into the sweetest moan when he yanked her across the room, and she fell into his lap as he found a chair that was not meant for this. He knew the chair wasn’t meant for fucking because he’d sat on it at least once a year from the time he turned thirteen to confess his sins to his priest.

Yeah.

“This is not going in my next confession,” he said in a long groan as Roz fit him between her thighs, and then lowered down fast. Too fast, maybe. It took the fucking air right out of his lungs, and all he could do was grab onto her hips for some kind of stability. “No damn way.”