“It’s not your fault.” I stopped and glared at her, seething with anger. I flashed back to that night in that empty lounge, her body under mine, panting and gasping. She was a small girl, so fucking beautiful and delicate, and I wanted to take her in my arms and break her. I wanted to make her shiver and gasp and moan and give me every single inch of her gorgeous pale skin.
I stepped toward her. She stared at me but didn’t move. I loomed over her and tilted her chin up toward me. She bit her dark red lips and stared into my eyes.
“Maybe you should just leave me alone,” she whispered. “I mean, if I’m going to be a distraction. I’ll stay in your house but you don’t have to babysit me.”
“I don’t want to leave you alone,” I said, head tilted. “Is that what you want?”
She bit her lip and didn’t answer. I wanted to kiss her so badly, slip my tongue between her teeth and slide a hand up that short skirt, up the length of her impossibly long legs, bend her backward and make her gasp as I teased her soaking spot. God, I was angry with myself, and with her, and with the whole situation.
A car rolled past. She blinked at me and didn’t pull away. She wanted this as much as I did.
“I should go back,” she whispered.
That broke the spell. I released her chin. “If you want to,” I said, shrugging.
“You should spend time with your guys,” she said, glancing back toward the bar.
“You don’t have to go.”
She put a hand on my chest and smiled. “I really should. Don’t worry, I’ll get an Uber.”
I wanted to make her stay. I wanted to show her off some more and announce to the whole damn bar that she was pregnant with my baby, but of course I couldn’t do that. As soon as word spread that she was knocked up then shit would get very difficult and very complicated.
I waited with her until the car showed up then she kissed my cheek and smiled. I wanted to say something to make her stay, but she got in the back and let it take her to my place.
I stayed at the bar, only because I felt guilty as hell about Brett, but the whole time I thought of her, thought of going home to her, thought of her legs in that skirt—and what I wanted from her, which was everything.
9
Ash
My father called early the next morning while Gian was still in bed. I yawned and stretched and stared at the coffee maker. Part of me thought I should ignore it.
But I couldn’t let it go to voicemail. “Hello? Dad?”
The strain in his voice made my spine go numb. “Hello, Ashleigh,” he said. “Are you doing well?”
That was my father, all formality and distance and slushy snow in his veins. “I’m fine,” I said. “Although I’m not sure you really care.”
“Of course I care,” he practically snarled, which didn’t do much to convince me. “I’d like to meet today, if you’re available.” He paused then added, “If your new baby daddy will allow you out.”
I pushed that stupid barb aside. “I can meet,” I said.
“There’s a coffee shop in Old City. It’s got outdoor seating. We can talk there.” He cleared his throat. “Meet me in one hour. Please come alone. I don’t want to see this man you’re staying with.”
“Okay, Dad,” I said, and wanted to add more, but he hung up already. I stared at the phone, then at the coffee machine, and didn’t hear Gian come into the kitchen.
“You okay?” he asked.
I looked over and nodded once. “He wants to meet and talk.”
“Is that a good idea?” He narrowed his eyes slightly.
“I think so,” I said. “I mean, I don’t know. I doubt he’ll do anything stupid.”
“You don’t know that,” he said. “People do desperate things all the time.”
“He just wants to talk.”
Gian shrugged and stepped past me and poured some coffee. “I’ll come with you,” he said. “And I’ll bring some guys.”
“He made me promise to come alone.”
Gian laughed. “Then I’ll stay out of sight.”
I opened my mouth to argue but I knew that was pointless. Gian had a stubborn look on his face, like things were already settled. I poured what was left of the coffee into my mug and sipped it while he walked back toward the steps. I stared at his naked back and the long line of his muscles disappearing into his gym shorts and I wondered how the hell I found myself in this situation, living with a mafia guy.
I looked at the coffee and closed my eyes. I’d have to stop drinking it soon, or at least cut back a lot.
I wondered if my dad knew that when he suggested that we meet at a coffee place.