The folding door that hides my shower bangs my heel. I must have dozed off after I've tossed myself across the bed with my legs sticking out too much. My neck was also twisted the wrong way. Cringing, I rub the kink off and jerk my knees to my chest, so Naz doesn't plow through them. She has her war face on, which is frankly excessive for fighting the door to let her out of the shower.
The state room has everything I need, but with the two of us occupying it we'll be cheek to jowl even before Naz drags in her wardrobe. I'm afraid to guess at the extent of it, but for now she's wearing every towel I own. Correction. There's one peeking from under the door, presumably strewn over the floor to keep her tootsies warm. So, my every towel minus one.
Steam trails after her statuesque figure, setting my thoughts on the predictable track.
Back on the beach, when the seawater washed off the make-up, she tasted like the sea. There was a woman underneath all the glitter, tasting like someone I wanted, an intoxicating mixture to drink in... and drink I did, till my head spun. But there, in the predawn darkness, I didn't see much of the real her.
She's before me now. Her cheeks are pink from the shower. Her lips are puffy after our all-nighter. She looks like cotton candy tastes.
I leer, and I can't help it—or want to. If I stretch on the bed, I could grasp the edge of the towel. Then, if she spins like a spindle, I could unwrap her to fall right into my arms on the bed. I squint, visualizing the scene. It has something Disney about it, with a decidedly not-Disney finale.
"Naz, you don't have to dress up for me."
She pulls a t-shirt out of the closet, shakes it out and smirks. "Let's be grown-up about it in the future, okay? Including the condoms."
Oh, look who wizened up now!
"I won't sleep around while we're married." I avoid mentioning Luca and my unspeakable desires. "Your family can mock my living arrangements all they want, but I won't allow them to mock you."
She gives me the look. Fuck, she's going to slap me and run away. With all my fucking towels!
Her mood plummeted on the ride home, but I had faith in the rejuvenating powers of the hot water. Alas, it failed me, because she still bristles worse than any porcupine. She'd kick me if I told her that she needs my protection. I almost kicked myself when I realized it upon seeing her walk into the night sea. If she doesn't self-destruct playing with fire, someone else will put an end to her.
"Okay, maybe my questions were a little out of line—"
"—and poorly timed—"
I blush thinking about my timing. "Okay, yes. Poorly timed. But I can't help you if I don't know the truth. I need to know this shit, dammit!"
She sinks to the edge of the bed and pats my ankle. "Ryan, simmer down. We don't have to work on our relationship. We're not even friends with benefits."
"Enemies with benefits?" I play with the end of her... my towel, tugging at it ever so slightly. I really want to unwrap this gift.
She chews her lip. "No, not enemies either."
"Then... casuals with benefits?"
She heaves a sigh. "Allies. Allies with benefits."
It's a great word. I shake her extended hand, but something twitches inside my chest. I want more.
She pulls her hand out of mine, not letting the handshake linger. "The shower is all yours.".
"Thanks for the heads up. Here I thought the other six dwarves were lining up for it with a song on their lips."
YOU ARE READING
Raised by the Mafia
Fiksi Ilmiah||L.A. Lawless Serial|| ||Season 2|| What do mafia princess and an ex-FBI agent have in common? An enemy. What should they do about it? Fake-marry, of course, and rub it into his face. What could possibly go wrong...or right? Right.
