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The silence is surprisingly not as awkward as I would expect and if I wasn’t so hungry, I might be worried about them watching me eat, but any concerns about that have gone straight out the window. When I’m satisfied, I sip the remainder of my coffee and offer a tight smile.
“Thanks. I’ll take myself to—”
“You look truly fucked, Wren.” Enzo’s words shouldn’t catch me off guard like they do, but they take me by surprise whether I like it or not, and I find myself choking and spluttering on thin air.
Motherfucker.
Plastering a wide smile on my face, I lean back in my seat, lacing my fingers on top of the table. “Trulyseems like too strong of a word.”
I expect my reply to make him falter, but his grin only spreads wider.
He inches forward, elbows braced on the table as he looks deep into my eyes with a raised brow. “You’re telling me that you’re not sore this morning? Because I can definitely rectify that.”
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
This is actually happening.
I fuck and run. Fuck. And. Run. Until them. Until Vito. Until now.
And the way Enzo tilts his head slightly to the side tells me he’s enjoying watching me squirm far too much. This situation is unlike any I’ve faced before.
“Wait,” Matteo interrupts, waving his hand between Enzo and me. “Did you two—”
“Truly fuck? Yes. Yes we did.” My sass shines through with every word, and it gives me the confidence to embrace it and push back, refusing to give Enzo the response he was enjoying so much moments earlier.
Matteo’s hands clench on the table, knuckles white as his nostrils flare. Rolling my eyes at him, I look at Vito, but he’s assessing me just as intently as he did when I first stepped into the room.
“She’s the fucking enemy, Enzo,” Matteo bites, fists slamming down on the table and making the plates clatter from the force.
“She’s notmyenemy.” Enzo shrugs as he says the words so casually yet so confidently, and my heart skips a goddamn beat.
What is he doing to me?
Between them, they evoke feelings in my chest that I can’t decipher or make sense of and it’s far more unsettling than having a gun aimed at my head.
Despite enjoying seeing Matteo so wound up, I know getting between the three of them is not going to help me out in this situation, so I clear my throat and look intently at the eldest brother of the De Luca family.
“It’s not like we were declaring marriage to one another, Matteo, we were fucking. Get over yourself.” I roll my eyes dramatically at him, not wanting to lose the harsh and confident front that I always feel so comfortable behind, even when I’m doing something to help them.
Enzo’s eyes are burning into the side of my head, and I turn and face him. The second my eyes latch on to his, the crazy idiot climbs up onto the table.
“What—”
My attempt to understand what the fuck he’s doing is cut short when he jumps down beside me, before sweeping me up off my seat and taking it for himself with me firmly in his lap.
Gaping at him like a fool, I can’t deny that my heart is galloping like crazy in my chest because of him.
“It definitely could be marriage, especially if you two are over it,” Enzo states, looking over my shoulder at his brothers as my eyes bug out of my head.
This man can’t be for real. Can he?
Before I can even understand what he truly means, Vito responds without missing a beat, “I’m not over it.”
I look over my shoulder at the man in question, my eyebrows pinching in confusion as his gaze remains fixed on me.
“You both need to stop saying shit like that,” I grumble, weakly attempting to move out of Enzo’s lap, but when he pulls me into his chest, I’m a goner.
“You know you like it,Bella,” he breathes against my ear, lips dancing over my skin as I shiver. I can’t find a response when his hand creeps up my thigh, goosebumps lying in its wake as he inches higher and higher. The entire time, I can sense both Matteo and Vito watching us, and I’m desperate to know what their faces look like, but I can’t bring myself to turn around and face them.
