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I didn’t have to look at him to know he was staring. As much as I hated him, I was aware of his every move, and a part of me thought that sentiment was reciprocated.
“Mommy says I can’t drink the ‘manufactured sugary crap’ here either.”
She sighed, dragging the sound out in a way which emphasized her disappointment and tugged at my heartstrings.
I felt for the girl even as I stumbled a little in shock at her use of the word “crap.” She was her brother’s sister, through and through, manipulating my every emotion in her favor.
Glancing at her doe eyes, the same mysterious, dusky shade as her brother’s, I couldn’t help but cave.
“I think I see some lemons back here. I can make you some homemade lemonade if you’d like.”
I grabbed a few lemons, sliced them in half, and began juicing them.
She furrowed her brows, and her eyes darted from side to side. When she spoke, I could barely hear her despite the silence in the air.
“But lemonade has sugar in it.”
I wiggled my brows. A wide grin spread over my face.
“So?”
Her responding smile whipped the breath from me, a smile so wide and gorgeous, it was a tragedy she wasn’t gracing the cover of a Gap Kids ad.
“Now I know why my brother likes you so much!”
I froze, my hand halting on top of the sugar container. “What did you say?”
“Bastian. He likes you.”
She was wrong.
So wrong.
But I entertained her regardless.
“Why would you say that?”
“Duh! He keeps staring at you.” She scrunched her nose up. “It’s weird. And creepy.”
And then she leaned forward, took the spoon from my fingers, added double the sugar I would have, and drank her lemonade like she hadn’t just left me reeling.
Chapter
Ten
In happiness or unhappiness, living is a duty, and must be done thoroughly.
ELLIS PETERS
BASTIANO ROMANO
My eyes drifted to Ariana De Luca, and I hated myself for it.
I had always been unflinching. Resolute.
It was ingrained in my DNA, passed on from generation to generation by persistent Romano elders, used to either being handed what they wanted or taking it with unrelenting force.
But what I wanted right now was to look away and gain back the sliver of control I had somehow lost when she’d walked in on me stroking myself to the image of her lips around a forkful of food, pretending it was my cock on her tongue and not the overpriced rosemary-glazed porchetta.
