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I want her too much.
I’m about to lose everything to this woman.
And the sacrifice will be worth it.
15
KAI
ENZO BLACK IS BROKEN.
How did I not realize it before?
Yes, I thought he was a little fucked up like all of us are. His father did a number on him. I understand the feeling now that I know my father did the same or worse.
But how did I not realize he’s as broken, if not more so than I am? He doesn’t even think he is capable of love.
Of being loved.
Of loving others.
Of falling in love.
I know Enzo can never love me. We are enemies. We’ve both betrayed each other and will continue to betray each other in different ways, but he needs to heal enough to love again. He helped me heal so I could love him. The only way I will be able to truly walk away from him is if I know he can love another—even if that person isn’t me.
I lie in Enzo’s arms on the couch in his bar area. My head pounds from the amount of alcohol we drank last night, but not once did I truly feel drunk. I always feel sober around Enzo. I feel alive.
He snores gently beneath me, naked and adorable. Why don’t you think you are capable of being loved? Why, why, why won’t you let me love you?
I run my hand through his hair, outgrown and in need of a trim. But I like it a little too long, a little too messy. It fits him better. Enzo isn’t perfect. He’s far from it. When he fucks up, he does it in a huge fashion. But that’s what attracts me to him. He may fuck up, but he makes up for it just as effortlessly. Life with Enzo is never boring.
I reluctantly climb off him, knowing I need a gallon of coffee to have a chance of ridding myself of this headache.
Enzo grabs my hand before I fully leave him. “Where are you going?”
“To get coffee to try to stop this pounding in my head.”
He frowns and pulls me to him, touching my head as if he can feel the pain there.
“I’m sorry, baby. I knew we shouldn’t have drunk that disgusting liquor.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You seemed to drink it just fine after you got a couple of tastes of it.”
He sits up, grabbing his own pounding head. “Ugh, I haven’t had a hangover since I was fifteen and just getting used to the stuff.”
“You really shouldn’t drink that much. It’s not good for you.”
He smirks. “You aren’t good for me. Should I stop you too?”
Oh, God, please no.
“No,” I kiss him hungrily on the lips. “I think we both just need a taste of our poison.”
He kisses me back, his tongue sweeping into my mouth and tasting every last drop of the alcohol in my mouth.
A buzzing sound stops both of us.
We look over at Enzo’s cell phone lying on the floor next to us.
