I bark out a laugh. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you.”
“See you,” he says, and with that we both go our separate ways.
ALESSIO
I hear the front door open and close and my heart beats just a little faster. Damn, I don’t think I could be more corny, but it’s true. Just knowing Spettro is home, in the same apartment as me, makes my whole body feel lighter.
“Perfect timing, I’m working on dinner,” I call out, stirring the simmering tomato sauce and checking on the pasta to make sure I don’t overcook it.
The soft clomp of his footsteps coming down the hallway sounds cautious, and I turn to look over my shoulder as soon as they stop. He stands right in the entrance to the kitchen with a slightly wary look on his face as he glances at the dirty dishes and various foods on the counter, then at me.
“Everything okay? Did you have a good time with Sparrow?”
“We killed a Reaper,” he says casually, and I chuckle.
“That sounds about right.” I jerk my head to beckon him closer. “Come here and tell me if there’s enough garlic in the sauce.”
I know damn well there’s the perfect amount of garlic in my sauce, just like my Nonna taught me, but I want my Spettro closer to me. I want him in the kitchen, taking up space, looking like he belongs instead of like he’s still wondering whether he should bolt. He doesn’t move.
“Sorry, this is just…” He swallows hard, rakes his fingers through his hair, and gives me an apologetic smile. “I don’t know how to do this, Alessio. I feel like an alley cat you brought in from outside and I don’t know the first damn thing about being domesticated.”
“Why do you think I’m cooking for you?” I joke, holding up the sauce spoon and jerking my head again. “Everyone knows that the best way to stop a stray cat from climbing out the window at the first opportunity is to keep them well fed.”
Spettro chuckles and finally takes a step into the kitchen, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on the back of one of the chairs. It might even be the chair I sat him down in at gunpoint the night he broke in. His gloves come off next, and he hesitates for a second before tossing them onto the table. Then he takes another slow step forward.
“You really want to waste your time teaching me how to be a normal fucking person?” he asks, taking one shuffling step afteranother until he reaches the stove, leaving only a few inches of space between us.
“Abso-fucking-lutely not,” I say without hesitation, bringing the sauce spoon up to his lips. He opens his mouth and takes a small taste, humming with approval and nodding. I put the spoon back into the sauce and grab just the hem of his shirt, careful not to touch him directly. “I don’t wantnormal, Spettro. I want you.”
He stares at me for a long second, searching my eyes like he’s looking for any evidence that I’m lying.
“I could love you, Alessio.”
My heart jumps and my lips twitch with a restrained smile. “I could love you, Spettro.”
He cups my jaw and our lips meet in a surprisingly soft kiss. I think I prefer the rough, biting, demanding way he usually kisses me, but I have to admit that there’s something kind of nice about slow and tender every once in a while. As long as it’s Spettro’s lips on mine, I don’t think I’ll ever have a complaint.
He breaks the kiss and smiles, the nerves melting out of his eyes little by little.
“I probably already lost my apartment,” he says.
“Good. I wasn’t going to let you move out anyway.”
“Okay.” He grins a little wider and dips a finger into the saucepan for another taste.
“Okay,” I echo. It’s not a big enough word, but it will do.
Chapter
Twenty-One
SPETTRO
It takes morethan a month for a buzz to start in the Reapers’ group chat and a date to be set for the next big party. A month I spend imagining a world without the motorcycle club occupying my every thought and trying to picture a future after it’s all over. A month of getting to know my brother and reluctantly being pulled into the fold of what they’ve dubbed the “Mafia wives’ club.” It turns out it’s mostly all of us going to Dante’s apartment once a week to gossip and drink martinis. Well, they drink martinis, I drink whatever over-the-top mocktail Dante found on TikTok and decided to make for me that week. A month of learning how to live with Alessio, getting used to someone being in bed next to me when I bolt awake from a nightmare, and falling a little more in love with him every time he says my name or looks at me in that way that makes me feel seen.
The worst heat of the summer has died off and there’s a mild breeze that ruffles my hair as we step out onto the roof. The city lights twinkle all around us, but the sky is dark, with only a fewstars visible and no moon in sight. A new moon on the night we’re finally going to end the Sleepless Reapers feels symbolic. It’s a fresh start, a new beginning for Wildcliff and all the Pass Arounds who didn’t know what they were saying yes to when a Reaper offered them their first taste.
The gravel crunches under my boots and I casually slip my hand underneath Alessio’s black T-shirt to hook my fingers around the leather harness hidden under his clothes. I can’t quite feel the heat of his skin or the thump of his heartbeat through my gloves, but I imagine that I can. There’s no need for me to guide him considering there’s only so far we can go up here on the roof, but he lets me anyway, his eyes on me in the dark and a smile on his lips.