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“It is normal. To me.”
“And that’s disturbing as hell. ‘Hi, I’m Dom, I kill people for a living.’”
“That’s not what I do for a living.” Dom pursed his lips. “It’s a side effect.”
“Well…what if you just…stopped?”
“I don’t follow.”
“You know, stopped. Stopped moving, stopped running all over the streets, stopped all the fighting. You’re just go, go, go, all the time; it’s fucking exhausting.”
“Then stop watching so close.”
“What else am I supposed to do here?”
“Oh, I don’t know, stay in your room? Out of my way. Haven’t you heard that saying, ‘out of sight, out of mind’?”
“So what you’re saying is if I stay in my room you’ll just forget about me?”
Dom wasn’t saying that. But it sure couldn’t hurt. Maybe if Luca wasn’t asking a million and one questions, this persistent niggling inside of Dom that was making him relax his guard would finally vanish.
“You talk too much, anyone ever told you that?”
Luca held up his glass. “I told you. When I’m drunk, I’m chatty.”
“When you’re sober, too.”
“Is it so wrong to ask questions? To talk?”
“In my world? Definitely. You say the wrong thing in my world and you lose your tongue.”
“Yeah, I seem to remember you mentioning that.”
Dom arched a brow. “I’m surprised you can remember anything right now.”
Luca lounged back on the couch and kicked his legs out in front of him. “I’m relaxed. In fact, if you’re going to kill me, could you do it now? I hardly think I’d even panic.”
“I’m not going to kill you.”
Luca perked up. “Ever?”
“Right now.”
He sagged back in his seat and let out a long sigh. “You know, maybe if you relaxed and kicked off your shoes for five minutes, you’d feel less antsy.”
“Do I look like the kind of guy who relaxes?”
Luca slowly ran his eyes down over him, and Dom’s dick throbbed at the lazy perusal.
“You look like the kind of guy who will sleep when he’s dead.”
“Sounds about right.”
Luca’s eyes softened a fraction as he shook his head. “And that doesn’t scare you?”
“Dying? No.”
“Wow.”
