"I missed you, so I messaged Jacques and asked him to let me come," Tom says, all smiles, like he's doing me a favor by showing up unannounced.
I like Tom. He makes me happy... I think. But showing up here, to my home, without even telling me? It doesn't sit right. I hug him anyway, trying to hide my unease. "I missed you too," I say as I pull away, my voice softer than I feel.
His eyes drop to the spliff in my hand. "I didn't know you smoked," he says, raising an eyebrow.
I force a small smile, hoping he won't push it. "You know smoking kills, right?" he continues, because of course, he does. He always has to say something.
"I know," I reply, my smile fading into something more strained. "But a lot of things kill... like a bullet to the chest." I point to where the scar is, hidden beneath my clothes.
That shuts him up. He doesn't push or ask any more questions, just gives me that concerned look he always does. Without saying anything, he leans in and kisses my forehead, his lips lingering for a moment longer than usual, as if trying to reassure me.
" Anyways it's just a bit of weed, Tom," I say, trying to keep it light, taking a slow drag and exhaling before handing the spliff to him. "Relax."
I turn around, walking back to my canvas, half-finished and still waiting for me. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Alessio. He's sitting there, looking somewhat pissed off, his jaw clenched in that way it does when something's bothering him, though he won't say what.
I sit back down on the stool, picking up the brush again, and Tom settles on the ground next to me. "Wow," he says, his eyes widening as he takes in the painting. "The boys said you could paint, but I didn't think you'd be this good."
I pause, raising an eyebrow as I turn to look at the lads lounging behind me. They all shrug, trying to play it off like they didn't just rat me out. Acting innocent, as usual.
"Did they now?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at them, but my gaze lingers on Alessio in particular. His arms are crossed, and I can tell something's on his mind, but he's holding it back. His usual poker face isn't as convincing right now, and I wonder what's running through his head.
"You've never painted for me," Tom says, his tone curious but with an edge that makes me roll my eyes slightly.
"Yeah, it's not really something I do anymore," I reply, brushing off the comment.
"Oh... why are you doing it now then?" he asks, and before I can answer, I hear Alessio's voice from behind me. Tom and I both glance over at him.
"I persuaded her," Alessio says, his face still unreadable, though there's something smug about his presence.
Tom looks at me for an explanation, but I just shrug, not in the mood to dive into this weird tension bubbling between the three of us.
"Oh, nice," Tom says, trying to sound casual, but I can tell he's feeling off. There's something about the way he acts around Alessio, a subtle jealousy, maybe? I don't know. As far as I'm aware, Tom doesn't know anything about mine and Alessio's past. But the tension is thick enough to cut with a knife, and it's making everything feel way too awkward.
YOU ARE READING
Revenge
RomanceBook two of 'The Vengeance Duology' Five years ago, the lads and I made the biggest mistake of our lives-a reckless decision that shattered everything. We destroyed what mattered most, but my deepest regret is how much I hurt her. Every moment of pa...