Ruthless (The Calvettis of New York 2) - Page 85

Stunned, I stare at him.

“Monica,” he explains. “You think she could keep that shit to herself? She told my mom. Monica said we had to keep it hush-hush.”

“Fuck.” I rake both hands through my hair. “You knew all this time?”

“I knew you’d tell me when you were ready.” He narrows his eyes. “I was hoping it would be before you fucked off to college in California, but I’m a patient man.”

I shake my head. “Irving pushed for me to go to USC.”

“Of course he fucking did.” He laughs. “Ship the kid to the other side of the country. What the hell did that solve?”

Nothing. I would stay awake for hours each night rethinking what had happened on that

street on the Upper West Side.

I’d close my eyes and see the cars, and the people. I’d hear the sounds and there was the silence from my sister. It’s all etched in my memory.

“So he came to New York to warn you to stay away from Felicity and Bizzy?”

“Beatrice.” I smile. “She outgrew Bizzy. She goes by Beatrice now.”

“You saw her?” He inches forward on the couch. “Did you talk to her?”

I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Yesterday, for hours.”

“Things are good?” He sips from the bottle. “You’re good with her and with Felicity?”

“It’s a work-in-progress to rebuild, but we’re all committed to making it happen.”

His gaze narrows. “Not all of you. I take it that Irving isn’t on board? Monica can’t be either.”

“They keep reminding me that I can’t swipe it all under the rug. That there are consequences I’ll have to live with forever.”

“You’ve put yourself through hell.” He scrubs a hand over the back of his neck. “When I was torn up about what happened between Eden and me in high school, you’d always tell me to let the past go.”

I did say that. It was advice I doled out freely but could never live by.

“Let it go, Barrett.” He slides to his feet. “There’s not one damn thing you can do today to change yesterday. Be a better man than you were then. That’s the best you can do.”

I wish it were that damn easy.

***

After polishing off the last piece of pizza in the box, Dylan picks up his phone. “I should head out soon. Do you want me to get Eden to set you up with that woman she works with? It sounds like you’d have a good time.”

“No,” I answer succinctly.

“No?” he parrots back. “Why not? You could use the exercise.”

I let out a chuckle. “I’m getting all the exercise I need.”

His eyebrows arch. “What the fuck? With who?”

He knows Bella. Not well enough to bring this up with her, but I want to protect her. I need to protect her. I ease into the answer with a warning. “You have to keep this to yourself.”

“I miss the good old days when we would pinkie swear that we wouldn’t tell a soul who we were banging in high school.”

He wiggles his hand in the air, arcing his pinkie finger toward me. “I pinkie swear that I won’t tell a soul who Barrett is dipping his dick into.”

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