Sugar Sweet Sin

Forgetting

"Ashlyn," Dante says, and something about his voice makes me feel like a mouse who's been cornered by a snake. "What a surprise to see you here."

"Well, they tell me I have to leave the bakery sometimes," I say with a strained laugh.

"Mm." His eyes drift over to Dean. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

He's not going to let me wrangle my way out of this easily. I force a smile.

"This is Dean," I say. "Dean, this is—"

"Dante," our unexpected company cuts in. "Dante Fontaine." Even if he intended to keep his identity quiet tonight, he's willing to give it up now. He holds his hand out to Dean, who looks a little stunned as he takes it. It's the first emotion I've seen on his face all night.

"And what brings you two out here tonight?" Dante asks. His eyes are on me again, burning into me, but his expression is perfectly controlled.

He's not an idiot. I'm with a guy who's not my "boyfriend" on what is very obviously a date. If my clothes and makeup don't give it away, the empty bottle of wine between us certainly does. Now he's just trying to get me to admit it out loud.

Which I won't, of course.

"We were just enjoying a bottle of wine," I say.

That obviously doesn't satisfy him. "How do you two know each other?"

"A mutual friend." I'm more annoyed by the second. "Not that it's any of your business."

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Dean glancing between the two of us, obviously trying to figure out what's going on.

"And how's Jack?" Dante asks.

"That's none of your business, either." I can't keep the bite from my tone. "Now if you'll excuse us, we were in the middle of a conversation."

"And now we are in the middle of a conversation. Is this really how you treat an old friend?"

Dean stands up, and relief rushes through me. The two of us working together might actually manage to chase Dante away.

But instead, my perfectly pleasant date looks between us once more before saying, "It sounds like you two have something to discuss. I'm going to hit the restroom."

No! Don't leave me alone with him! I want to shout. But doing so would only be admitting weakness.

The moment Dean steps away, Dante moves to slide into his vacated seat.

"Don't you dare sit down," I say.

He ignores me. Instead, he props his forearms on the table and laces his fingers, looking across at me with an expression I'm having trouble reading. There's a wrinkle in his brow and the slightest hint of a frown on his lips, but his eyes have taken on that carefully blank look that makes him feel like a stranger.

"What happened to Jack?" he asks after a moment.

"As I said, that's none of your business." I'm in a pickle now—do I pretend we broke up? Or do I insist that everything is fine and that Dean is just a friend? Neither option is likely to win me points in this battle. And both just continue a web of lies that is getting stickier and more complicated by the second.

Easier to just avoid this conversation altogether.

"Isn't your brother waiting for you?" I say, gesturing toward the bar.

"Luca's a big boy. He can take care of himself."

"Have you told him about you and Emilia yet?"

An exasperated expression flickers across his face, but he regains control of himself quickly. "It wouldn't matter to him if he knew. As I've told you, it meant nothing."