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Those words hang heavy in the air, filling me with a sense of ease that thrills me. I’m comfortable with him, although it makes no sense.
I shouldn’t be.
He’s the kind of man I avoid.
Like Santis.
Like Giannis Martin tonight. He showed up without being invited—after I turned down his offer to go on a date two days ago—as if I was there for him. He’s like all the others in my life; pushy, meddlesome, and thinks he knows what’s best for me without asking for my input on my wants or needs.
An idiot I, unfortunately, see at school while moving from class to class and sometimes when I’m forced to play the dutiful daughter at events where family presence is necessary for my father’s political career. He’s the son of a lobbyist—my father knows his family—and is as self-righteous as our fathers.
My parents approve of his interest, while I say no…
Find you a suitable husband.
A suitable husband.
Dad couldn’t be talking about him?
No. Just no. I’d rather—
“What’s wrong?” Callum’s voice cuts through my thoughts, his warm fingers now intertwined with mine. They’re warm, a little rough but soothing at the same time. “You seemed upset.”
“I’m okay,” I say, but he doesn’t buy it. It’s there in the tick of his jaw and furrow of his brows. “Just thinking about some family drama. Promise, nothing exciting.”
He wouldn’t care either way; this is a one-time thing. However, ruining the mood—these calm yet thrilling butterflies that have overtaken me since our eyes met—is unacceptable to my peace of mind.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Then I remember something else and I’m smiling, leaning a little closer as if to whisper a secret. “But your family dynamic is one I’m curious about. How do you know me?”
“My cousin.” Our fingers flex, shifting the car into another gear. He switches lanes, driving around a five-mile-below-the-speed-limit van and punches the accelerator. The action pushes me back into my seat, adrenaline spiking as the city lights become a blur. Did he hit 90? “Relax. I’ve never been in an accident.”
“Have you ever heard of cops? They’ll pull you over and—”
“You’re bloody sinful when you care.”
“I don’t.”
My response is quick, earning me a throaty chuckle that ends in a smirk. He hit me with a twofer. “Of course, but to assuage you, we won’t be pulled over.”
“Why are you so sure?”
“It’s a secret, love.” I’m trying not to get excited over the term. Brits use it all the time and so do a lot of other countries, but I can’t stop the way my heart rate picks up.
“That’s not going to work here.”
“No?” Callum asks, turning onto the expressway. “Care to elaborate?”
Slick bastard. “What does your cousin have to do with me? You’re the first Jameson I’ve met, and you’ve now mentioned him twice.”
“You know who I am.” Not a question, and I nod. From my reaction when he told me his name, he knows I knew. There are a few families that span the globe who are notorious, and being the friend of a mafia princess—no matter how much Aurora hates it—does come with perks. As does being the daughter of a state governor; you know who to avoid at all costs. “How informed are you?”
“I’m a governor’s daughter. It’s drilled into my head to stay away from criminals, and your family does business here.” It’s not meant to be an insult, just the truth, and he nods for me to continue while that dangerous smirk remains in place. “Should your name not be on that list?”
“It belongs at the top.”
“But that doesn’t explain much.”
