“I’m not trying to give you a hard time, Ant. But look at the life you live. You make your money off pussy.”
“Not just that,” I grumble.
“Okay, fine. Pussy, guns, and drugs. Because that sounds so much better, right?”
I let out a deep sigh, scrubbing a hand down the front of my face. Sometimes I hate my brother.
“And,” Tommy continues since now he’s on a roll. “You have women swinging from your dick three at a time! Pretty much every night! Since when does deep and messy and real work for you?”
“Look, I don’t even know if it does!” I sneak a glance at the door again. It kind of looks like I hauled ass outta there while she was in the bathroom, and I really wanna see her in my jersey.
I roll my eyes at the thought. I don’t ever want to see women fully dressed.
Who the fuck am I?
“But you just want to try something new, huh? Eh, maybe introducing an instrument will be an interesting twist. Lots of possibilities.”
“Shut up,” I grumble. “Anyway, do you want the car or not?”
“Oh, you changed your mind? I’m not an asshat anymore?”
“Still an asshat. But I’m feeling generous.”
“How are you gonna get home?”
I shrug. “Don’t know. Don’t really care. Hell, maybe I’ll hop a flight with her to wherever she’s going.”
“Jesus,” Tommy moans. “Are you sure nobody slipped some shit into your scotch?”
“Look, I’m done with this conversation. You want the keys? Walk your ass over here and get them. Otherwise, I’ll see you when I see you.”
Click.
I stick the phone back in my pocket and pull open to the door to the lounge.
“Mr. Marcone, is everything okay?”
I look over to the girl behind the reception desk. Blonde, tight shirt, tits popping out of the low V-neck.
Exactly my type.
My old type.
Wait, I have a new type? Is this for fucking real?
I flash a smile. “Everything is good, thanks.” I start toward the hidden corner where I’d left Julia and the reception girl calls out to me.
“If you need anything, I’ll be here for the next couple of hours!”
I nod, not bothering to look back. If I play my cards right…and who the hell knows if that’s even a possibility right now since I’m so off my nut…I’ll be occupied for the next couple of hours.
With a certain musician who’s wearing…
I furrow my brow, not sure if my eyes are playing tricks on me or not.
An “I Love Palermo” t-shirt.
What the hell?
I walk over and collapse onto the sofa opposite her.
“Was the jersey too big?”
She looks at me, her eyebrow quirked. “Not as big as the nerve you had in leaving after cozying up to me like that with all of the…” she waves her hand around as she stammers. “You know, the eyes and the big rescue and all of the suggestive comments, and…” A loud huff escapes her lips. “You know what? Just forget it. I should have known better.” She turns to look at the receptionist who is still staring at me…not my fault, by the way. Julia then looks back to me with a roll of her eyes. “I’m sure there are plenty of other women here who are just your type who’ll be more than happy to kill some time with you before your flight.”
“Yeah, but I came back here because I want to kill it with you.”
She folds her hands in her lap and stares at the ceiling, her voice struggling to be patient. “Look, we both know I’m not exactly the kind of woman who catches your eye. What could possibly be keeping you here?”
I lean forward, my elbows on my knees. “Okay, I’ll admit I’m not a big fan of the violin. I listen to a lot of electronica. Dance music. Actually, it’s more like noise. I can’t really even classify it as music. And yeah, there’s a certain type of woman I usually…” I swallow hard. “Date.” My lips stretch into a smile. “But there’s something about you that’s damn hard to ignore. Actually, a lot of somethings. And you’re gorgeous. More so than any other woman in here. You light the place up and you don’t even see it.”
Her mouth drops open like she’s gonna speak, but then nothing comes out. It’s silence. Stunned silence? I don’t know. But I’ve never been so honest in my entire life. Shit, Tommy would have a lot to say if he were a fly on the wall right now. He’d ride my ass until the day I died if he just heard me being all earnest and shit.
And the kicker is I’m not even trying to get laid.
“You weren’t…” she clears her throat and flips her hair over her shoulder. “Ah, checking out other options?”
“No,” I say, a teasing smile on my lips. “I was actually ditching my other option.”
“So…you came here with someone?” Her eyes widen. “And you ditched her for me? Oh my God, I’m a homewrecker? I don’t know what’s worse!”
“Not her. Him,” I say with a wink.
She recoils. “Oh, um..”
This woman is just too fucking adorable.
“My brother,” I confirm. “I came here tonight to pick him up. He was flying in from St. Tropez.”
“And now you’re not?”
“No.”
“Won’t he be mad?”
I nod. “Yep.”
“I would be, too,” Julia says. “It’s a real jerk move to leave him here stranded.”
“I offered him my car. I think that’s a fair trade.”
“Wait,” Julia says. “So you came here to pick up your brother and now he’s going to leave with your car.”
“Yes.”
“But you’re not actually flying anywhere.”
“No.”
“Okay,” she murmurs, as if she’s trying to figure out the secrets of the universe. “Okay.” Then she looks at me, her eyes narrowed. “And what exactly were you hoping might happen here? Between us? Because you’re letting your brother leave with your car and you’ll be stuck here—”
“That was my goal.” I smirk. “Except I don’t look at it as me being stuck here. Do you feel that you’re stuck with me now?”
“N-no,” she stammers. “I don’t feel stuck. A little confused, maybe. But definitely not stuck.”
“Can we please get this confusion thing out of the way?” I ask, leaning closer. “You’re a stunning woman who clearly doesn’t grasp the impact of her beauty, which makes you even more attractive. But it’s more than the way you look. You’re like two different people whom I want to get to know better. I Googled you when you went to change before and I watched a couple of your videos. You’ve got an aura about you. It’s captivating. But off the stage, you’re so unassuming. It’s like you don’t even know that person. You’re down to Earth and reserved. Sophisticated.” I smile. “Sexy.”
That gets her attention. She lets out a hearty chuckle. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Antonio, so if that’s your plan—”
“I know.” I shrug. “But I don’t care. It’s all true, and I’m pretty shocked that I’m the first one to tell you any of this.”
Her face flushed a deep shade of pink. “Well, I have a pretty tight inner circle. And my schedule is hectic. It doesn’t leave a lot of time for…um…socializing. Or friends. Like I said, my life is my music.”
“I can tell. You’re crazy talented.”
Her eyes lighten and her spine straightens. “Thank you.”
“Has it all been worth it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you said before how the violin has literally been your whole life. Has it been worth it? The work, the achievements, the life?”
“Sometimes, I think it has.” Julia looks down at the hem of her jeans and toys with one of the frayed edges. “But other times? I don’t know. I think I’d liked to have had a normal life, at least for a little while. I’ve never had that. I’m an only child and music is my entire existence. It became a family effort to make me into what I am today,”
she says with a snicker.
“And your parents must be really supportive.”
“Yeah,” she says. “They’re amazing. They gave up a lot early on because they didn’t have much money and it was a struggle to get me into the best schools with the best instructors. Really expensive. I know it was a burden for them.”
“That was pretty selfless of them.” I watch as she talks about her parents, how animated she becomes, how her voice becomes laced with emotion.
“It was. They’re the most important people in the world to me.” Her clear green eyes regard me and my breath hitches. Her honesty and willingness to open up about something so important…I’m not used to it. Hell, I don’t do it myself, and for good reason.
It’s always just been easier to lock shit up. Keep it buried down deep. My parents were great, but I lost them both in the worst ways imaginable. And sometimes, it just hurts too damn much to remember, to even think about sharing my feelings with anyone else.
And Christ knows, there’s a lot bottled up and it needs to stay that way.
That’s one of the reasons why I’ve avoided deep, messy, and complicated.
Easy, simple, and superficial never ask questions.
“So what’s next for you, Julia?” I ask.
She gives me a blank stare in response. “Next?”
I nod. “Yeah. Where are you going?”
“You mean like, in life?”
“No.” I snicker. “I mean literally. You’re getting on a plane to go somewhere, right?”
She giggles and the sound alone makes me smile. “You’re pretty perceptive.”
“Am I?” I ask, waving my hand around. “We are in an airport lounge. I’m not the brightest bulb in the chandelier, but even I could figure that one out.”
“I was being ironic.”
“Touché.” I wink at her. “Where are you headed?”
“Rome.” She grins. “Where my parents and I live. I haven’t been back in months. I really miss it.”
“Do you have a favorite spot?”
Julia nods. “Yes, the Colosseum. It’s my absolute favorite part of the city. I love how you can be driving along Via Nazionale and boom! There it is, right on the side of the road, beyond the trees.”
“Sounds like something a tourist would say.”
“Sometimes I feel that way since I travel so much,” she muses. “I never used to pay attention to it until I’d been gone for a while. Then, when I came home for a short break, I took a tour of the city and I realized how things really look to visitors. How much I’d missed because I grew up there and took it all for granted.” She pauses. “Have you ever been to Rome?”
“Is that an invitation?” I smirk.
Spots of pink appear on her cheeks, and she bites down on her lower lip.
The sudden urge to kiss her grabs hold of me. I want to taste those deep pink lips…and so much more. I want to drink in her innocence, her enthusiasm, her zeal for life and for the people she loves. She’s got this glow about her that I’ve never seen. Maybe it was there and I didn’t notice it earlier. Maybe I just missed it. I don’t know. The only thing I’m sure of is that I’ve never experienced anything like this before…the whole talking thing. I never just strike up a conversation with a woman I’m trying to fuck. I limit the exchange of words as much as possible for two reasons…
One, I really don’t care what she has to say, and more often than not, stringing together a coherent sentence is a challenge for the women I target.
Two, it keeps me focused on things that don’t require any thought, like fucking them senseless over a couch. Or a bed. Or where the hell ever.
Easy.
Simple.
Superficial.
I never think about kissing any of those women, about wrapping my arms around them and breathing in the sweet scent of their perfume, about how it would feel to have them nestled tight into my chest, their breath fluttering against my skin.
Fuck, if I even said I wanted any of that, I’d lose my guy card for sure.
Tommy, for one, would be happy to yank it away and incinerate it.
But this guy, the one who is currently all talk and no action…I don’t know who the hell he is or how he invaded my body and mind.
“I, um…” She gives me a half-smile. “To be honest, I wouldn’t have thought you’d have accepted even if it was.”
“Why? Is it so hard to believe that I want to get to know you better?” Does she really not know how intoxicating she is? Has nobody every spoken those words to her and made her believe them?
That would be a fucking travesty, if you ask me.
She leans forward, studying me. “You say those things and you sound so sincere.”
“And you think I’m playing you.”
“I just think we’re different. Really different. You need variety, I can tell.”
She’s right. I do. Plenty of women, all hair colors and cup sizes, parade their tight, naked asses in front of me on a daily basis.
Maybe this is a wake-up call for me.
A glimpse into a life I’ve been avoiding because it’s potentially complicated and messy and involves…emotions.
Fuck. Who’d have thought I’d ever become that guy?
Maybe someone really did slip something into my drink.
“You’re interested in me now because I’m not throwing myself at you.”
“If you throw yourself at me, trust me, I’d be even more interested.”
A peal of laughter escapes her lips. “Why is that not surprising to me?”
“Speaking of surprises,” I say, pointing at her t-shirt. “What happened to my jersey? Was it too big? Or did you sell it on me?”
She gasps, slapping a hand over her mouth. “Oh my God! I forgot!”
“Forgot what?” If the t-shirt didn’t confuse me, this reaction sure the hell does.
“I threw it away,” she whispers.
“You threw it away,” I repeat, trying to make sense of the big why surrounding that admission.
“When I came out of the bathroom and you were gone, I assumed…” She twists a strand of her hair, staring in every direction but mine. “I told you. I thought you blew me off. I figured it was going to happen as soon as you got a chance to escape and I was mad that I let myself even care in the first place, and so I got a replacement shirt and…and…” She jumps up from the couch and darts into the bathroom. In seconds, she’s back, the rumpled jersey clutched in her hand. She hesitates for a second, then holds it out to me. “I’m sorry. My mistake.”
But I don’t take it. I stare at the jersey and then her. She shifts, twisting it in her hands.
“Are you mad?” she asks.
I shake my head and collapse against the back of the couch, my shoulders quaking with laughter. “You only threw it away? I’m surprised you didn’t shred it first.”
She snickers. “I wanted to burn it but you know, it’s an airport.”
“Smart. Probably not the best headline for you. Your publicist would be pissed. “Famous Violinist Turns To Arson When Jilted.”
Julia sinks back onto the couch, her laughter echoing in the air. “Pissed is an understatement. She likes me to fly under the radar.”
“I can’t imagine that’s easy for you.”
She cocks her head to the side. “Do those lines really work for you?”
“They’re not lines, Julia. For the first time in my life, I’ve meant every word I said to you tonight.”
She nods. “That’s what I’m afraid of, Antonio. And I think it scares you, too. Am I right?”
“I don’t scare easily. But yeah,” I say, tracing a path over her hand. “You’re right. This does.”
“That’s why I can’t invite you with me,” she says in a low voice laced with disappointment. “Because I don’t want to be left holding the pieces when you decide you want to go back to what you know, what you understand, instead of something that has you guessing constantly and turned completely insid
e out.” She pauses, staring at my fingers. “At least, that’s how I feel about you.”
I swallow hard past the lump in my throat. “Okay. I get it.”
“I’d always be wondering,” she murmurs. “And since I don’t have a lot of experience with this kind of thing, I’m afraid I’d just mess it all up.”
“You wouldn’t—”
“I would. I’m an overthinker,” she says with a sad smile on her face. “When you asked me before if my career was worth everything I’ve given up, the answer is yes. I can’t afford to lose my focus now, worrying about my decisions, no matter how good or right they may have felt at the time.”
“So something that feels good and right…” I rake a hand through my hair, slowly getting to my feet. “Is wrong? Bad?”
“For me, for us?” She nods. “Right now? Yes.”
I suck in a breath and she holds out the jersey to me again. I reach for it, my fingers grazing hers. A jolt rocks me to my core as we connect for that last, brief moment.
Jesus Christ, whoever the hell has taken over for me needs to stand the fuck down!
“You made me realize something tonight, Antonio. I do want this,” she says, pointing back and forth between us. “All of it. But now just isn’t the right time for me. Or for us.”
I force a smile. “I meant everything I told you, Julia.” I try with all of my might to stop myself from moving closer to her, to stop my fingertips from dragging down the side of her smooth cheek, to stop my hand from cupping her chin and tilting her head upward so I can gaze into those expressive green eyes one last time. “I hope you believe it. And I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
I drop my hand and turn away from her, heading toward the exit. The blonde at the reception desk gives me a long look as I stride past her and back into the terminal.
“What? Are you waiting out here for me?” Tommy asks, walking up to the doorway to the lounge. “You’re afraid if I come inside and have a drink with your sexy violinist that I’ll charm the thong off of her and she might pick me instead, right?” Tommy snickers, giving me a punch in the shoulder.
I snort. “Hardly. Come on, let’s go.”
“I thought you were staying. I was looking forward to taking a crack at your new Testarosa, Ant! You can’t fuck around on me like that!”
Coveted: Men of Mayhem: Book Two Page 3