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God. Fucking. Damnit.
Someone tell me why my man looks like a studmuffin everywhere we go.
"Damn, Daddy." I run my right hand over his sweaty bicep. "Do you model for an outdoors-wear company?"
"Why?" Medici gasps for breath. "Do I look like I’m hiking in Patagonia?"
"Mount Etna," I correct with a smirk. "More specifically—theNorth Faceof the mountain."
Faro issues us a glare. "Funny."
"Yeah," Giosuè snaps. "And we’re on the Southern side. The North Face is at risk of exploding due to volcanic activity."
Romeo tugs at his shirt collar. "Maybe we shouldn’t be hiking Mount Etna during a volcano warning."
"Nonsense." Tommaso cuffs his father’s back. "Danger is the spice of life."
I snort as I shake my head in amusement. The Lucianos, their partners, and I are on a trek up Mount Etna. After thereleaseMedici and I had in the swimming hole, he decided we needed another release—an athletic one.
When Medici was in the joint, he told me he used to enjoy a cigarette after lovemaking. Nothing crazy—not an entire pack. Only one. However, he started to develop a bad habit, so he turned to exercise.
That’s why he suggested we all pack up and head up the mountain. Now that we’re here, he’s out of breath.
I smack Medici’s back. "Come on.Push."
"I’m more of a strength-training guy." Medici lets out a growl. "This cardio is kicking my ass."
Enzo spins in a circle. "I’m doing fine."
We all stare at Enzo. He’s one of the fluffiest in the group—big and beautiful. He’s also the only one not out of breath.
"I guess this proves that weight isn’t related to one’s level of fitness," Faro opines.
"You can say that again," Enzo says with a smile. "In high school, I was the fastest mile runner in my grade. People thought I was on crack—I didn’t look like a jogger. However, I wiped the confused expressions off their faces with my mad skills. Six-minute miles—I was a cardio king. I couldn’t lift weights for shit, but my feet and legs never let me down."
Medici pauses to catch his breath. "I need a minute."
"Y’all go ahead," I say, threading my fingers through his. "I’ll help Daddy rest."
"No." The voices that spit this out stop us dead in our tracks. Santino, Lazaro, and Marcello march to our sides.
Lazaro rams Medici’s chin up. "We never leave family behind."
"Damn straight," Santino snarls. "We’ll stick with you, bro."
Medici coughs as he rolls his eyes. "No need to be so dramatic."
Marcello squirts water in Medici’s face. "You stuck with us during our times of strife. We’ll do the same."
Medici roars as he bats the water out of his eyes. "Come on. Are you kidding me?"
"What?" Marcello growls.
"Quit getting me wet!" Medici snaps.
I squeeze Medici protectively. "I’m the only one who gets Medici wet around here."
Lazaro snatches the water bottle out of Marcello’s hand. "We need to save our water, bro."
