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“Stop talking,” I command. “Don’t apologize for something someone else did. I absolutely needed to hear that, and now that I have, I’m going to make absolutely sure nothing like that ever happens to you again.”
“But I—this isn’t—” She stops, unable to properly articulate her words.
I move closer and grip her hand softly. Her head tilts back so she can look me in the eye.
“Don’t apologize for it ever again. You did nothing wrong, okay?”
She nods once. My eyes narrow when she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth again. The urge to kiss her overrides every other thought. I realize how close we’re standing and I want nothing more than to bridge the slight gap and press my lips to hers.
I don’t know if it’s something in my expression but Astoria’s breath hitches and she shifts closer, open, inviting.
Fuck it. What’s one more taste?
I lean in to capture her mouth in mine. But then the doorbell rings, forestalling our actions and wrenching us apart.
“Fuck,” I say softly, glaring at my front door.
It rings again and I walk toward it, pausing to confirm who’s there. I curse under my breath when the cameras reveal who’s standing on the other side. I swing it open to Khalil’s completely unwelcome face. He raises a hand in salute.
“What’s up, D’Angelo?”
“It’s seven a.m. What are you doing here?” I question rudely.
He arches a dark eyebrow, seemingly amused. “I came to see my friend. What? Are you busy?”
I don’t reply, my head filling up with scenarios where I strangle or choke him to death. Then his gaze travels behind me and his mouth curls up in a grin.
“Well, this is interesting.”
Fucker.
CHAPTER11
Astoria
Iblink slowly as I take in the man who walks into the apartment. I don’t miss the noise of protest Carlo makes or the resigned way with which he shuts the door. He frowns as the man makes his way over to me.
“Hi. Astoria, right?” he asks. “I’m Khalil. Carlo’s friend.”
Khalil’s not as tall as Carlo. I estimate he’s about six feet. His mouth is pulled into a charming, mischievous smile, and he has dark skin and clear black eyes. Objectively, I realize he’s pretty attractive, with his squared jawline and broad shoulders. But my eyes stray to the man behind him and I’m more interested in why Carlo’s jaw is clenched so tight.
I’m a little surprised but I find myself saying, “Funny, I didn’t think Carlo was capable of making friends.”
Khalil laughs. “Yeah, I definitely wasn’t wrong about you.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Khalil, shut up,” Carlo says, stepping forward. He surreptitiously puts himself between me and his friend.
Said friend is visibly amused and seems to be enjoying every moment of this situation. I’m even more curious about the dynamic between the two of them.
“Oh, stop being such a possessive twat. I was just talking to her.” Khalil moves until he’s standing beside me. “I’ve been meaning to meet you, actually. I’m very curious about Carlo’s girlfriend.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” I say, glancing at Carlo and wondering just how much Khalil knows and if we’re supposed to be acting like a loving couple right now.
“He knows,” Carlo snarls, reading the look on my face accurately. “He knows the relationship is fake.”
I look to Khalil, who shrugs innocently.
