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“M-me?” he confirms, his brows pinching in confusion. “What have I done?” he asks hesitantly, but I see the guilt beneath. And it’s all I need to see.
“Yeah. You.” Pulling my hand from his, I cross my arms over my chest and rest forward on the table. My dress is low-cut enough to give him an eyeful, but clearly, this is serious enough for his focus to remain on my face. I’m almost impressed. “Did you want to start telling me the truth, or should I just walk out now?”
His eyes flare with shock as he lifts his hand to run his fingers through his hair, bringing it to a stop on the back of his neck as disbelief covers his handsome face.
He looks hot tonight. No, beyond fucking hot. He’s wearing dark grey fitted trousers that hug his arse and thighs in the most delicious way, and a black button-down shirt that looks like it could have been made to measure, the way it sculpts his muscular arms and chest. He looks pretty on point for the man I’ve discovered him to be. Dark, mysterious, and above all else, dangerous.
“Jodie, I—”
“Lie to my face and I’ll walk right out that door and you’ll never see me again,” I warn before he continues.
I might be a naïve little girl who allowed all of this bullshit to pass me by, trusting the wrong people, but I am done with being that person.
If there is anything here, and right now that is a very big if, then I need everything. Every dark and dirty secret he’s carrying. I want to know the real him, not the act he’s put on over the past few weeks to be the perfect boyfriend, because right now, that is all this feels like.
An act. Fake. Too good to be true.
“Shit,” he hisses, dipping his head but still holding my eyes. “I’m sorry, Jodie.”
My brow quirks as I stare at him.
“Really?”
“Yes,” he assures me, leaning over the table to try to recapture my hands once more, but I sit back, needing this space between us if I’ve got any chance of keeping a clear head.
He pauses, I assume to let me fill the silence by telling him everything I’ve figured out already, but it’s not going to happen.
“I’m not the one who needs to be talking right now,” I tell him with a pointed look. “I want the truth. I want to know who I’ve really been sharing a bed with.”
“Fuck. Yeah… yeah, okay.”
He drags his hands back across the table, and I swear I actually see them trembling. Is he really that terrified of me knowing the truth? My stomach twists painfully as I continue coming up with all the awful situations I’ve been conjuring up in my head the past few days.
After a few seconds, he seems to get a hold of himself, and he holds out a now very steady hand across the table for me. “Hey,” he says with a smile, making me frown. “I’m Toby Doukas, a soldier in the Cirillo Crime Family.”
“Holy fuck,” I gasp, the reality of everything Bri told me slamming into me with the force of an articulated lorry.
Emotion clogs my throat and my eyes burn red-hot as his lies and betrayal fill the space between us.
“But I’m still me, Jodie. The person you’ve got to know, that’s who I am. That’s just a part of me. A part I don’t go around advertising to hot girls I meet in bars.”
I nod, because I understand that. I really fucking do.
“But I’m not just a girl you met in a bar anymore, am I?”
He sucks in a breath, damn near taking all the oxygen from the room with it.
“I’m sorry, excuse me.”
In a rush, I push to my feet and take off.
I have a choice right now. And only a second later as I look between the exit and the bathroom sign, I have to make it.
Walk away or have a minute to take a breath?
“Shit,” I hiss, squeezing my eyes closed as I follow through with my decision and pray it’s the right fucking one.
