AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Well, by the looks of your knuckles, I doubt he’ll do it again,” I smile and look up at him.
“If I needed anyone to tend to my wounds, it would be you. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. You’re all set.”
He finishes his drink, and we head back to the kitchen. It’s completely dark out, and he takes a moment to look out of my living room window to enjoy the city lights.
“Just had to get another look at this view. It’s incredible.”
“Do you want another drink?” I offer.
“No, I’m good. Thank you.”
“Sure.” I pour myself another because I hate the silence between us, and wonder what he’s thinking.
But it seems like he turns around quickly. “I should go. Thanks for wrapping my hands.”
“Thank you for everything tonight.”
I start to walk him to the door, and I open it for him. He moves to go through but suddenly stops and turns to me. It’s happening before I can process what he’s about to do. He plants his lips on mine, and cups my face with his hands. I’m on my tip toes kissing him back. I let his tongue tangle with mine and we stand there kissing like no one has ever kissed us like the other. His lips are soft, but he takes mine greedily. His calloused hands rest on the sides of my face.
And just as quick as it started, he pulls away. “I’m sorry. I…”
I hold my hand up. “Don’t apologize.” I don’t need to hear him say this was a mistake.
Chapter Eight
DOMINICK
I’m not quite sure why I kissed Geneva. And I’m not sure why I turned away and walked out after she said not to apologize. Does that mean she liked the kiss? I loved the way her lips felt against mine. I remember seeing the bowlike shape of them just as I was about to kiss her; they were soft and tasted like cherry flavored Chapstick.
“Just head home, and then we can head to the drop point,” I tell Ramos.
I make a few calls on the way home and try to take my mind off Geneva. But the reminder of her lips on mine are at the forefront of my thoughts. But I have to think about my business first and foremost. I can’t let a woman distract me from that.
Once I’m home, I go in search of Art, who I find eating in the kitchen. “Eating Belva’s famous spaghetti and meatballs,” I say, entering the kitchen.
“It’s too good to pass up. Thought I could get a few bites before we make the drop tonight.”
“You got time.” I swear it’s like he lives here and doesn’t have a home of his own. But there is no one there waiting on him except the empty house, which I think is why he is here most of the time. He likes to have people around.
“Why are your hands wrapped like that?” Art points with his fork. His real name is Arturo, but everyone calls him Art.
“Oh. I beat the shit out of a guy because he stole Geneva’s purse when she was about to enter her apartment building.”
“He still alive?”
I smirk. “Barely.”
“So you like this Geneva girl or something?”
“It’s complicated. I like her. But she says we should just be friends.”
“Burn.” He takes a moment to laugh. “She might be right.”
“Well, I don’t recall asking for your opinion.”
He nods. “You’re right. My bad.”
