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Rude. But then my eyes stray to his face again. His hard expression, the way the muscles in his jaw tick. And how the obvious fury does nothing to dull his beautiful face. I blink once, twice.
“Watch where you’re going,” he snaps.
“A collision like that takes two people, genius,” I snap back instinctively.
His eyes narrow. I take in his face again, wondering why he seems so familiar. Granted, I can’t know everyone in attendance at the party, but there’s something about him.
“Astoria!” my mom calls again and I whirl around to face her.
I laugh nervously, wobbling on my feet a little.Sheesh, that tequila really got to me.
“Hey, Mom,” I greet, a little relieved my dad didn’t follow her outside.
My mom’s eyes study my face for a minute before moving to the man who’s standing behind me. I can feel his presence like a vise around my heart.
“Mrs. Bianchi,” he says coolly.
My eyes widen and I turn slightly to shoot him a confused look.How the hell does he know my mom?
“Carlo,” my mom mutters.
She knows him too?
She’s looking at me now and there’s a strange expression on her face. One I decipher much too late.
“Astoria, is Carlo the man you wanted us to meet?” she asks.
Her expression is equal parts worry, equal parts excitement, and equal parts shock. Several milliseconds pass as I continue to stare at her, uncomprehending. The man behind me isn’t saying a single word. Then, realization hits me like a bolt to my stomach as I finally understand what she’s asking. My mouth falls open as I try to conjure an answer to her question.
Mom waits patiently while my brain threatens to self-combust. “Astoria?”
Again, I blame the alcohol in my system for the answer that’s blurted out of my lips.
“Yes!”
I angle back toward the man and blink rapidly, trying to wordlessly confer a plea for him to go along with it. His expression is both curious and annoyed. It quickly turns to confusion when I place my hand around his arm.
“Mom, this is my boyfriend. Carlo,” I announce with all the bravado I can muster.
Internally, I’m cringing and cursing myself. Of all the dumb things I’ve ever done, this might take the cake. The man, for his part, doesn’t immediately wrench his arm away. But he does tense, and out of the corner of my eye, I see the sharp look he throws my way. I don’t meet his gaze, I just continue to stare at my mother whose expression is one of complete surprise.
“You’re dating Carlo D’Angelo?” she asks, her voice containing a note of wonder.
My eyes widen and I finally look up at him. That’s why he was so familiar. He’s a D’Angelo?
Fuck my life.
I don’t know much about the family, but what I do know is that they’re dangerous and very familiar with a life of crime. Now I’m battling with the urge to drop my hand from his arm. My heart rate quickens as my mind finally catches up to the reality of my situation.
I remember Carlo now. He’s not the most popular person in his family but certainly the most infamous. I’ve heard a lot of rumors. Of all the people I could have chosen to be my fake boyfriend.
“Yes, Mother,” I reply, despite wanting nothing more than to swiftly deny and run far, far away. “I’m dating Carlo. Surprise?” I offer weakly.
She doesn’t smile. She simply looks at Carlo.
“How did you two even meet? Why didn’t you mention it when you were speaking to Salvador earlier? Why all the secrets?” she asks, seemingly affronted.
I open my mouth to reply but he beats me to it.
