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If I sit here a second longer, my gaze is going to fall on his crotch—a place I have avoided looking at for so long. But a girl can only resist for so long. I unzip my hoodie and plop it over the armrest of my seat. Is it hot in here, or is it me? Or is it this connection between us that’s pulling so tightly, my entire body feels itchy? Best to go to the restroom and cool off. I jump up and stomp off in the direction of the restroom in the rear of the aircraft. I push the door open and step inside, turn to close it, when he plants his foot in the space between the door and the frame of the cubicle.
"What are you doing?" I whisper-scream.
"What do you think?" He steps forward and I slide back. Instantly, he steps inside the cubicle—which, by the way, is at least thrice the size of the bathrooms on commercial aircraft. It’s still a small area, and he’s so large he seems to take up most of the space.
"There’s a bedroom through the door at the back of the aircraft, if you’d prefer?" He smirks.
"No, I would not," I snap.
"Suit yourself." He unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt sleeves and begins to roll them up.
"If you think you’re going to join the mile-high club, you’re sadly mistaken," I inform him.
His eyes gleam. "We’ll see." He moves toward me, and I shuffle back until my back hits the wall.
I put up my hands. "Stop," I say, a tinge of desperation in my tone.
To my surprise, he does. "I’m not going to hurt you."
I swallow.
"You do know that, right?"
I stay quiet.
"Do you, Via?"
"Yes, of course, I know you won’t hurt me," I admit.
"Do you want me to leave?"
I glance away.
"If you do, just say so, and I will. And I won’t look at you again."
I squeeze my eyes shut. Why, oh, why did he have to be so handsome, so charismatic, so… tender? It came through in the way he touched me in that room. And in how he kissed me earlier and seduced me into opening my mouth to him. The soft and the hard. Chemistry and biology, and every damn thing in between, are at play when we’re together.
"Via?" he asks softly.
I put up my hand. "Stop, please, don’t say anything else." I flutter my eyes open. "I really don’t want to be with you."
His eyes shutter. The gray in them leaches away until, once more, they’re colorless, like the surface of a diamond. They definitely look as hard.
"Why not?"
"Because…" I tip up my chin. "Because of what you are."
"What I am?"
"You’re in the Mafia."
"So?"
"So?" I throw up my hands. "How can you ask that with a straight face? You kill people. You do illegal stuff for a living.”
His forehead crinkles. "Is it me you have an issue with, or is it what I do for a living?"
"Both?"
