Dark Saint [Romano Brotherhood, #1]

12 | Nina

Crimson and fuchsia blink happily between sparkling white clouds of fluff that float into the air and tickle my nose. I swat at them absentmindedly, liking the way they flit through the air like they have a mind of their own.

Red wine and bubbles mix well.

Knock knock knock.

I groan, the bottle clanking as I lean over the lip of the tub to put it on the floor. It slips, nearly spilling, and I giggle.

Knock knock knock.

"Nina. Nina, what are you doing?" Santo's voice sounds particularly sharp right now, and I'm in the middle of shutting him out, so I start humming happily under my breath, already missing the wine bottle in my hands. I think I've drank a lot of it.

I love wine.

"Nina!"

"Why are you bothering me?" I whisper, arranging bubbles over my chest in the shape of a bra. These bubbles must be top of the line—they haven't dissolved, and I'm pretty sure I've been in here for at least thirty minutes.

"I'm going to break down this door in three. Two. Fucking o—"

"No! Don't you dare!"

The knob jiggles furiously. "The fuck are you doing?"

"I'm bathing. Leave me alone."

"Drunk?"

"Already am, thanks for offering though."

"No." I swear I hear his annoyed sigh through the door. "Are you bathing drunk? You shouldn't do that."

"You shouldn't be the literal manifestation of an asshole, but we all do things we shouldn't do."

Silence. Then, "I have to go. When will you be out?"

I give myself a bubble beard, wincing as some of them get into my mouth. "These bubbles taste gross. I dunno. You can just go? I don't care."

The knob jiggles again. "Why are you eating the bubbles? How drunk are you?"

"Ha! Now look who's asking the questions!"

"Nina."

"Why are you still here? Go do your murdery things." I lean back over the edge of the tub, grabbing my wine. Right as Santo comes bursting through the door.

"Hey! What the fuck?" I squeal, sinking down so only my head sits above the bubbles. My bottle lies lopsided on the bathroom floor, and I can hear the precious wine glugging out of it.

"I'm not going until you're out of there."

"How did you get in here? What the hell is wrong with you, dude? The bathroom is a place of privacy."

He holds up a bent paperclip. "Picked the lock. And yes, the bathroom is a place of privacy when you're not submerging yourself in a tub of water while inebriated. I'm not trying to come back to your corpse floating around in there."

"You make it sound like I'm trying to—Jesus, just get out!"

Santo makes himself comfortable leaning against the sink.

"You—you—God, you're so invasive!"

"Hardly. I can't even see anything," he frowns in theatrical disappointment, amusement gleaming cruelly in his eyes.

"Fine. You want me to get out? I'm not doing that with you staring at me."

"Perfectly understandable."