“I’m sure I can take a weekend off and accompany Gabriella to her exhibition as her bodyguard, if it’s that important to her.”
A hush falls over the room, and I follow Matteo’s glance toward my father, who nods. “Well then, I don’t see why not,” he finally says, turning to me. “What do you think, Gabby?”
Oh, so now they care what I think? I can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of me but it’s empty of any mirth. My opinion in this home has never mattered—always brushed aside under the guise of “It’s for your own good”—because, well, I am just a sheltered little girl with no self-preservation. How else would I know what was good for me without my big, strong don of a brother or the all-powerful Leonardo Rossi to tell me. This was my one chance to escape Nico and start a life away from my overbearing family, and they took that from me.
Some trace of what I’m thinking must show on my face because Matteo rushes to assure me. “I know you and Nico have your moments, and he likes to tease you, but I promise he’ll be on his best behavior,” he says.
I don’t respond. I don’t have words and those I do have would only further damage our relationship. So I push back my chair and, without a word, walk out of the dining room. I don’t respond to the calls of my name or the words that follow my exit.
Somehow, I make it to my bedroom without breaking down or screaming the roof off this house. I fall face-first on my bed and scream into the pillow until my throat is raw, before flopping onto my back and staring up at the ceiling. Aside from Silvia, everyone else believes that Nico and I can’t stand eachother—that we simply think of each other as siblings. Sure, Nico is always teasing me, and we bicker constantly, but that never stopped me from falling for the man. I snap at him to keep anyone—especially him—from learning the truth.Maybe if I told them that and confessed my feelings to all of them, then it would make things awkward enough for them to send me off alone.
That would never work.
Christ, they’re probably planning on holding on to me until I’m thirty and married to someone who will never let me make my own decisions because “it’s for my own good.” I calculate the balance of my savings account before letting out a groan when I realize it’s not enough to cover a weekend trip to Las Vegas, let alone finance a new life out there.
A knock on my door pulls me from my thoughts, and I assume it’s Silvia, so I tell her to come in. I turn to the door, expecting to see her, but the person who steps into my room is the last person I need to see right now. My body immediately goes on alert, heat rising in my cheeks as I watch Nico slowly close the door behind him—locking us both in my bedroom.
My bedroom. A room with a bed in it, and it just so happens to be in the furthest corner of the house. Far enough that no one would hear us if we… I clear my throat and sit up, brushing my hair from my face just so I have something to do with my hands. “W-what are you doing here?”
“I never got the chance to congratulate you on your senior project and winning the contest.”
“Not much good that winning will do me now, but thanks.”
I wait for him to leave, but he doesn’t. He stays with his back against the door, watching me through those mesmerizing green eyes that always leave me aching and wanting.
“You’re angry,” he finally says after a long beat of silence. “Will my promise to stay out of your way in Vegas make things better? I promise you’ll barely notice I’m there.”
I scoff at that. Even in a crowded room, I’m always hyperaware of where Nico is, and I doubt Vegas is going to change anything.
“Gabby.”
“Just leave me alone, Nico.”
“Why do you want to go to Vegas alone so badly?” he asks, pushing away from the door and approaching me. I suck in a sharp breath when he sits on my bed, close enough that our hips nearly touch. “Does it have anything to do with the paintings? Are you planning to meet up withhimin Vegas?”
It takes a moment for my overwhelmed brain to make sense of what he’s talking about, and when I realize that he’s referring to the final painting from my senior project where I fly into the arms of a man, I find myself strangely impressed that he caught that. Well…at least part of it. How could he look at those paintings and not see my affection for him in every stroke, and understand that the last painting was wishful thinking? That the Gabriella in the painting was saying goodbye to the dream of being with Nico and imagining a happily ever after with someone else instead? Even if the dream is bleak in reality, I can dream in my own art, can’t I?
Christ, I want him.
Even now, filled with resentment for not being the woman in Nico’s heart, I want him still. I can’t help it.
“Please leave,” I whisper, hoping he has the sense to walk away. “I want to be alone.”
“You haven’t answered my question.”
“Because it’s none of your business,” I snap. I start to turn away when he takes my chin between his fingers and turns my face back to his. Heat licks through my body when he leans close—so close I can see the green of his eyes, feel his breath against my face. It’s intimate, and it’s messing with my head. “Nico.”
“If you’re going to Vegas to meet up with someone, I need to know so I can run a background check on them. I have to make sure it’s safe to meet them.”
I try to pull my chin from his hand, but his hold is firm even as rage blooms fresh in me. How dare he? How dare he tease me with something he cannot give me? Asshole.
“Who I date is none of your business! Contrary to what all of you think, I am not a child who needs permission to live my life. I can go where I want and date whoever I like without—”
Nico makes a low, frustrated sound in his throat seconds before he leans forward and crashes his lips to mine. For a moment—two heartbeats—I’m taken aback, and my mind is slow to process what’s happening.
Nico is…kissing me?
He’s kissing me.