Page 47

But the other option was to tell Dante that he wasn’t nearly as unaffected by his best friend as he had pretended to be, and there was a strange current of tension and desire tugging him in two directions, and he wasn’t nearly as terrified about that as he should be.

“I’m bisexual.” Well. He certainly hadn’t intended for that to come out. He huffed out a laugh. “Fuck. I mean… Whatever, yeah. I am.”

He could picture Dante shrugging on the other side of the phone. “Fuck yeah, man. Mom got two for two.”

That got his attention. “Really?”

Dante’s tone was his usual—amusing, teasing, a little too aware for his own good. “You know Bastion, right? Well…”

Everyone who was anyone knew Bastion Kane, a man who had no qualms about proudly displaying his sexuality. He had been one of the seven boys who had worked the ranch that year, when Nicco had begged Beau Sinclair to take his brother in. Apparently, Dante had had one hell of an education.

“Do you have to beat me at everything?” Nicco muttered. “I give you my come to Jesus and you have to one up with a fucking rockstar.”

Dante laughed. “He wasn’t a rockstar at the time… Well, actually—”

“Nope,” Nicco cut him off. “That’s enough.”

“You’re right.” Dante’s grin was in his voice. “Back to you. Do you have a boyfriend, is that why you’re suddenly sharing secrets?”

There were so, so many more secrets Nicco wanted to tell, but every single one of them had the power to destroy everything.

“No boyfriend,” Nicco replied. His tone was annoyed, but he could feel his heartrate returning to normal. Dante added levity and familiarity to his life, a tether to their culture and homeland and family. No one ever talked about that feeling of coming from a culture that prided themselves on family and food and connection, only to find yourself totally alone. “And don’t be nosy. I just… Since we’re going on a mission tonight, I thought a little honesty would be good.”

“It is,” Dante assured him, his tone growing just a little more serious. “Honored you told me.”

“Love you, Dante,” Nicco whispered, the words a bloom, hopeful and soft to the touch. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed his brother’s voice.

Hadn’t realized how much I was pulling away from everyone.

Okay, that part he most definitely had realized. He just hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it.

“Anche ti voglio bene, fratello,” Dante said. “Be safe tonight and let me know when you’re home, okay?”

Let me know when you’re home safe.

Niccolo only wished he could promise it.

Chapter Eighteen

The cold air was welcome on Hanna’s warm skin, but even a walk around the block hadn’t been able to calm her racing thoughts. She needed to be focused on saving Grace, hopefully from Iverson’s compound that very night, but all she could think about was Ash, about the secret anger she had been carrying around all these years, anger that he had left her, that he’d taken her father’s bribe money…

In her angry seventeen-year-old mind, Hanna had thought she had been enough for her sister to stick around. And then Ash had gone too, and she’d been left wondering if anyone would truly care enough about her not to leave.

But the revelations from the afternoon still bounced around in her head. There was no reason he would lie, not now, all these years later, when it was so clear he had become the better version of himself he’d had to fight so damned hard for.

And his words rang true, in the way they always did when she didn’t want to admit that she had been wrong—that he had been afraid of what it would do to her if he had brought her along, that he hadn’t wanted to put Wil through heartache all over again.

Certainly, she couldn’t have become a cop if she had a record. And Ash had known that was all she’d wanted, to follow in her father’s footsteps.

More than a decade later, she could hardly blame him.

Hell, she could almost be grateful. He had done it in the worst way possible, but maybe that truly had been the only option, the only way to make her see that he hadn’t been the boy for her.

What about the man for me?

That was an entirely different question, and one a great deal more dangerous than anything that might have happened when they’d just been starting out in the world. Because as much as she wanted to, as much as she needed to be able to say goodbye to Ash the moment they rescued Grace Iverson, she could admit, if only to herself, that she liked having him around again.

Okay, maybe liked wasn’t a strong enough way to put it. Maybe craved, needed, ached, wanted with a desperation she didn’t entirely understand was more accurate. Her life had been a whirlwind, and she’d put her head down to achieve her goals and follow her father’s legacy, which hadn’t left much time for the kind of relationships most people got into by her age.