She laughs. “Women are too easy.”

  “That they are.”

  “And about us?”

  “I’m thirty-one now and getting older. At first, it was a game to placate my cousin, but now…”

  “Now what?”

  I shrug. “I’m so fucking drawn to you, I think I’m going crazy.”

  “I’m just the new girl and unconquered.”

  “That’s not true. It’s something else. Something I can’t explain.”

  “It’ll wear off.”

  “A woman like you doesn’t wear off, Arlo.”

  “We do…very easily, I can assure you.” She sighs, but there’s a pain behind the harshness of her exhale.

  “If that were true, I wouldn’t have left the bar tonight alone. In my entire life, that has never happened to me. Never. Not even when I was seeing Carrie—we had an open relationship, before you think I was cheating on her. I never cheated because I was never exclusive.”

  She blinks, her lips parted. “You’ve never been exclusive? Never?”

  “Never.”

  “You’re so weird,” she tells me, her fingers wandering aimlessly across the ink on my upper arm.

  “I always thought people who were monogamous were the weird ones.”

  She laughs, and it’s a glorious sound. “And now?”

  “Still fucking weird.” I shrug. “I can’t change who I was. There’s no taking back my past, Arlo, but I can change my future.”

  “We’re the masters of our own destiny,” she says softly.

  “That we are, sweetheart. I should go,” I tell her.

  “I don’t want you to go,” she says softly, not moving her eyes away from mine.

  “What do you want, Arlo?”

  “You,” she whispers.

  I reach up, placing my hand on her cheek. “Then kiss me,” I challenge her, sweeping my thumb across her lower lip.

  She doesn’t hesitate in putting her mouth on mine. Her lips are soft, full, and absolute perfection as she leans into me and slides her arms over my shoulders. I snake my arm around her middle, pulling her closer until our bodies are pressed together and our mouths are completely fused.

  Everything about this moment feels right. The weight of her in my arms, the warmth of her skin pressed against me, the taste of her lips on mine. I could lose myself in her and do it easily.

  I tear my mouth away from hers, knowing how hard it’ll be for me to stop if I kiss her too long.

  “Do you know how crazy you sound?”

  “I do,” I mutter, tilting my face upward. “God how I do.”

  “You spent a few hours talking with me, and you saw the light?”

  “Tell me you don’t feel the same or tell me that this is only a friend helping a friend fix someone, and I’ll leave you alone before you have the chance to…”

  She pulls me back down onto the couch, holding my hand. “To what?”

  “To destroy me.”

  She leans forward, crawling across the couch, closing the space between us. My breath hitches, and there’s an ache deep in my chest as I keep my eyes locked on hers. Arlo’s in my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck before I can process what’s happening.

  I stare into her green eyes, too scared to move. “What are you doing?” I ask, my voice deep with need.

  Her face is so close, I can feel the warmth of her breath. “Showing you how I feel.”

  She settles her weight in my lap, pressing against my dick, which is already pissed at me. “Arlo,” I whisper, moving my hands to her back to hold her. “Maybe we…”

  She puts her finger to my lips. “Shh, Mello. Stop talking,” she whispers.

  I can’t take my eyes off her as she moves forward, pressing her lips to mine. The soft warmth of her mouth feels right against mine, and I flatten my hands, pulling her closer.

  The kiss is light at first, me testing the waters and her seemingly unsure. But within seconds, her lips part and her tongue sweeps across my lip, letting me know she’s not wavering at all. I open to her, letting her take the lead, not wanting her to regret this moment.

  Her fingers twist in my hair as she shifts her bottom against my dick before a moan escapes her lips. I’m panting, inhaling everything she’s giving me, feeling light-headed from the contact.

  I press her back into the couch and cover her with my body, careful not to touch her ribs. “I could do this all night,” I murmur against her lips.

  “Me too,” she breathes.

  And I do.

  I kiss her until I can’t keep my eyes open anymore. Pulling her against my side, I easily drift off to sleep for only the second time in the last eleven years.

  14

  The next morning, Arlo’s body is plastered against mine with her arm slung over my chest, and I’m surprisingly okay with it.

  “Morning,” I whisper, sliding my hand down the soft skin of her arm, seeing her eyes open too.

  “Hey,” she says, tipping her head back. “You’re still here.”

  “I am.” I smile.

  “We slept so late. I don’t remember the last time I slept this long.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Ten.”

  “Ten?” I ask, shocked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Fuck,” I groan, wishing I could stay like this all day. But it’s Sunday, and that means family.

  If I didn’t show up at my grandparents’ house, I’d be in trouble with my grandmother first and be barraged with questions from everyone else.

  Sundays are sacred, and unless you have a good excuse, your ass always shows, and you are on time too. Nonna doesn’t play around with tardiness, and neither do my parents.

  “I can’t stay long. I have family shit today.”

  She lifts up on her elbow, stroking my chest with her other hand. “It’s okay. I have work to do.”

  “Lily said you’re a writer. What do you write?”

  “Articles mostly, but I’m working on a novel.”

  “I have a cousin in Chicago who’s a writer. You’re from Chicago, right?”

  “Yeah, and I know all about Bianca. I love her work.”

  I blink. “You know who she is?”

  Arlo slaps my chest playfully. “Carmello, she’s super popular. I don’t know anyone who reads romance and doesn’t know who Bianca is. She’s that big, and Lily told me about her too.”

  “Well, damn. I didn’t know. To me, she’s just another cousin.”

  Arlo snuggles back into my side. “I’ve spoken with Bianca, actually. She’s the one who gave me the courage to chase my dream of publishing a novel.”

  I move my hand to her lower back, tracing her spine with my fingertips. “Always chase your dreams, babe. Always.”

  “Is Inked your dream?” she asks from my chest.

  “It always was. I could’ve gone to work with my dad, but my idea of a good time doesn’t involve sitting for twelve hours on a stakeout or getting my ass shot at by a cheating husband.”

  Her hand stops moving on my chest. “What?”

  “My dad and uncle own a security slash private investigation company. They’ve had a wild ride at times, but it’s more boring than exciting most days. I had two paths to choose from…Inked or ALFA. I chose Inked and haven’t regretted that decision a single day.”

  “I can see that. Everyone seems to love one another there.”

  “We do. My family is insane and all up in one another’s business, but I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. You know?”

  “Yeah,” she whispers. “It must be nice to be surrounded by people who want to be around you.”

  “And your people?” I ask her.

  She tenses in my arms. “I don’t want to bring this conversation down, Mello.” She sighs. “What time do you have to leave?”

  I shift my body, moving myself upward until my back is flush against the pillows, and I bring her with me. “I know we barely know each other, and you can totally tell me to fuck off, but don’t worry about bringing me down. I want to know who you are, where you come from, and who made you this strong, kick-ass chick next to me.”

  Arlo sits up, laying her legs across mine, and twists her fingers together. “I don’t have people, Mello. It’s just me.”

  I place my hands on her legs, giving her thigh a squeeze. “No one?”

  “No one,” she repeats, gazing down at her hands. “I was adopted at birth, and then my parents died when I was eight. After that, I went into foster care, bouncing around from house to house, until I was eighteen and was turned out.”

  I furrow my brows, my fingers tightening. “Turned out?”

  “When you’re eighteen, you get emancipated and basically kicked to the curb to fend for yourself. I got lucky, though, when an agent saw me on the beach, offering me a career in modeling, which gave me the ability to support myself with a roof over my head and food in my belly. Otherwise, I don’t know where I’d be.”

  “Jesus,” I mutter, hating to think of her at a young age with no one and nothing. “That’s awful, Arlo.”

  She shrugs and finally looks at me with those striking green eyes. “I didn’t know any different. I mean, I know it’s not how it is for every kid, but I was surrounded by other foster kids, and it’s the reality for a lot of us. No one wants to adopt an older child when there are cute babies in need of a home without all the emotional baggage.”

  I seriously can’t imagine. I’ve been blessed with two loving parents and a giant family my entire life. Then there’s Rocco, my twin. Not a day has passed when I don’t have someone to turn to or lean on when shit gets rough.

  “And your birth parents…did you ever look for them?”

  “I never have. I didn’t see the point. They didn’t want me then, and the last thing I wanted to do was make them feel guilty about giving me up only to have a shit life.”

  “But you have a good life now,” I tell her, looking around her fancy place. “A pretty impressive life.”

  She looks around too, seeing what I see, and smiles. “I have the life I created, and I don’t think letting someone else into that life would be wise, especially if I wasn’t wanted in the first place.”

  I grab her hands, wrapping my fingers around hers. “Maybe you were wanted, but they weren’t able to take care of you or were too young.”

  She gives me a sorrowful smile. “Maybe, but I’m perfectly content leaving the past in the past. It’s easier for me that way.”

  “I can understand, sugar. I don’t know what I would do in your circumstances.”

  “You’re kind of sweet.”

  “Only kind of?” I tease her, trying to lighten the mood.

  “You’re mostly an asshole with a little sweet mixed in.”

  “You nailed me. Can’t argue with the truth, babe.” There’s silence for a few seconds before I say, “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

  She snuggles into my side, placing her hand back against my chest, right over my heart. “You opened up to me last night, so it was only fair that I opened up to you.”

  “I needed you to understand why I do fucked-up shit. It’s different. You didn’t need to open up to me.”

  “I need you to understand why I’m fucked up too,” she whispers against my bare chest.

  “I don’t think you’re fucked up.”

  She tips her head back again, staring up at me. “How many people do you know my age who are single and not sleeping around, Mello?”

  I grimace, getting her point. “Just you, babe.”

  “See. That’s fucked up.”

  “That’s sweet,” I correct her. “Nothing fucked up about it.”

  She moves her eyes away from me, pointing them down the length of my body. “I clearly have trust and intimacy issues, or else I’d be different.”

  “I don’t want different.”

  “Sure,” she mutters.

  “I’ve had different, Arlo, and it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

  “I’m sure every thirty-one-year-old man dreams of dating a woman who doesn’t want to have sex with him.”

  “You don’t want to have sex with me?”

  She stares up at me, blinking. “I mean…”

  “And every thirty-one-year-old man wants a woman just like you…at least for their wife. Trust me on that one.”

  “That’s me. Every man’s fantasy.”

  “You really are, sugar. You don’t know the preciousness of what you hold.”

  “It’s typically about conquest for them. They think they’re going to be the one to get the golden ticket, and when they don’t…they’re pissed. So, just so we’re clear, you’re not getting my V-card.”

  “Got it,” I tell her.

  “Not unless we’re married,” she adds.

  “Got that too. One thing I will never do is pressure you. If I wanted easy, empty pussy, I wouldn’t be here.”

  “You could have good pussy that isn’t me. There are women out there who are more suited to your tastes and needs.”

  “Arlo,” I say when she turns her head back down. “Look at me, babe.” A second later, she does, giving me her green eyes. “If I wanted easy, I’d have easy. But I want Arlo and whatever comes with her. We’ve spent two nights on the couch together, and you know what?”

  “What?” she whispers, her eyes locked with mine and not blinking.

  I slide my hand against her cheek, cradling her face in my palm. “They were the two best nights I’ve had in a long time.”

  She smiles, curling into my grip. “Thank you for that, even if it was a lie.”

  “No lie, Arlo. I’m being one hundred percent honest with you.”

  “Okay,” she mumbles. “Whatever you say.”

  “Listen, I don’t lie. It’s not me. I’ll always be honest with you. It’s the most important thing I have with those closest to me. We love one another deeply, but we’re also honest. And sometimes it’s brutal.”

  “So, you’re going to be mean?” she asks.

  “No, Arlo. I’ll never be mean to you. I don’t think I could be, but just like I told you about the chick at the bar…that was brutal and not so pretty, but it was honest as fuck.”

  “I don’t know if I want that much honesty,” she says with a small laugh. “There is such a thing as too much.”

  “Got it,” I tell her. “Now, do you have to work today, or do you want to come to my grandma’s?”

  Her eyes widen. “You’d want me to go with you?”

  I nod. “Why not? Everybody has to eat, and she makes the best sauce in the world.”

  “That’s kind of a big deal. Your cousins have told me about the famous Sunday dinners.”

  “It’s not that big of a deal, babe. Lily, Gigi, Tamara, and my other cousins will be there. We can hang by the pool and have some great food. Why should you sit here all day by yourself, slaving away at the keyboard, when you could be with me, laughing and eating the best pasta in town?”

  She doesn’t speak for a second as her eyes move across my face, and I can see the wheels inside her pretty head spinning around. “I don’t know.”

  “Just come. Please. I can’t walk out your door after an amazing night like that and know you’re here alone.”

  “Oh, goody. I’m suddenly a charity case,” she says and sighs. “This is why I don’t tell people about my past.”

  “You’re not a charity case, silly woman, you’re my girl, and I refuse to leave you here. So, get your fine ass up, shower, put on a shirt that covers your stomach, and get ready to eat more than you’ve eaten in your entire life.”

  “You sure?” she asks.

  “Wouldn’t ask if I weren’t.”

  “What time do you have to be there?”

  “One.”

  “Shit!” she screeches, jumping up off me and away from the couch. “That’s not much time.”

  “It’s casual, Ar. Just throw on whatever.”

  “Casual?” She looks horrified. “A dinner with an entire family is never casual.”

  “Mine is,” I tell her, moving to sit up and swinging my legs off the couch. “Totally casual and, anyway, you’re beautiful.”

  “Are you sure they wouldn’t feel weird with me there?”

  “Hold on. Lemme ask.” I’m only placating her, making sure she’s comfortable. “I’ll send out a text.”

  “Okay.” She shifts her weight back and forth between her feet. “Do that.”

  Me: Everyone okay with Arlo coming to dinner at Gram’s today?

  I hand her the phone as I stalk into the kitchen, needing a bottle of water.

  “Why did you give this to me?” she asks, following right behind with the phone in her hand.

  “Just watch,” I tell her, opening the fridge.

  The phone starts to ping a few seconds later, and I walk back to her, looking over her shoulder.

  Lily: OMG. For real?

  Gigi: Fuck yeah.

  Pike: Oh boy.

  Mammoth: The first step is accepting the inevitable.

  “What’s that mean?” she asks me as soon as she sees Mammoth’s text.

  “He’s a little out there,” I lie, not wanting her to know he thinks we’re destined to be together.

  Tamara: We could use another woman around the table.

  Rocco: Mom’s going to love this.

  Arlo’s eyes come to mine. “Should I worry about your mom?”

  I shake my head and laugh. “No, sugar. My mother is going to love you.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  “She’s different and totally badass in her own way. Just go along with whatever she says, and you’ll be fine.”

  “Um,” she mumbles, pulling the corner of her lip in between her teeth.

  I place my hand over hers before taking the phone back. “It’ll be fine. Go get ready because nothing makes my grandma madder than being late.”

  Arlo pops up on her toes, planting a big kiss on my lips. “Thanks, Mello.”

  “For what?” I ask, resisting the urge to pull her into my arms for more.

  “For including me.”

  “Always,” I reply, hoping I can keep the promise. “Now, go.”

  She scurries away, those tight yoga pants doing nothing to help the morning wood I’ve been sporting since my eyes opened.

  My hand and I are about to be best friends again, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.