by Bethany-Kris
“More than usual, yeah.”
“Suppose there’s a reason for that?”
Naz stiffened as he started to move out of the bed. He took a brief moment to consider his father’s words, and then went ahead with getting out of bed, and grabbing the clean slacks and dress shirt he’d left sitting in a garment bag after snatching it from the dry cleaners before he came home the night before.
His father said nothing as Naz shrugged on the shirt, and pulled up the pants. He let his son get dressed in peace, thankfully.
“I hadn’t considered there was a reason he sent me running, no,” Naz said. “He’s your right-hand man, Dad. He’s made—I’m trying to get the button. He can send me wherever he likes, at whatever time of day or night he likes. That is how this goes, right?”
Cross chuckled. “It is, yes.”
“But now that you mention it …”
“He was in the next room when you called Roz yesterday morning. He also has cameras on his house … like every other made man in this state, Naz. And nobody missed how close you and she were at Cece’s engagement party, son.”
“So, my Godfather is trying to keep me away from his daughter. Is that what you’re telling me?”
Cross grinned when Naz looked to him. “I think … well, I think he’s trying to figure out what you’re doing with his daughter. Or rather, what you plan on doing. Look at it like that, son.”
Naz sucked air through his teeth. It was better than telling his father to let Zeke know he could go fuck himself straight up the closest wall he could find.
Damn.
That urge was strong, though. It kind of fucking shocked Naz how much he wanted to say it, too. Like the very idea of someone keeping Rosalynn away from him was going to make him do some kind of brilliant violence just because he could.
His father didn’t miss it, either.
Cross knew him too well.
I was you once, his father liked to say every time he stepped in on one of Naz’s plans to thwart them. His father always knew what he was going to do before he ever even did it. Most of the time, anyhow.
“Ah,” his father murmured. “So, that’s how it is, then.”
“How what is?” Naz asked.
He focused his attention on buttoning up his shirt, and not looking at his father. It was easier, really.
“Roz,” Cross said. “That’s how it is with her, hmm?”
“Again, like—”
“You think you love her.”
Naz’s cheek twitched. An involuntary reaction at the word think coming out of his father’s mouth in conjunction with his feelings for Roz. Like Naz didn’t know what in the hell was going on inside his own mind.
“Not think,” Naz muttered under his breath.
He didn’t miss the way his father’s brow lifted out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t turn to face him fully. Cross didn’t seem to mind.
“You’re sure?”
“Don’t ask that,” Naz countered, strolling into his walk-in closer to grab a pair of socks and shoes. “Don’t question my mind. Don’t ask me to explain what happens in my brain. I don’t do that. I know what it knows, and this is what it knows.”
That’s just how his brain worked.
Fucking genius thing again.
And it knew from the second he looked at Roz who she was, and what he wanted with her. He wasn’t going to apologize for that, or try to explain it.
“Must be confusing, that,” Cross said, leaning against the door jamb with his arms crossed over his chest. “To just … turn around, and bam, there it is.”
Naz slipped on the socks and shoes, before standing straight, facing his father, and giving him a smirk. Walking past Cross in the doorway, Naz said, “Must fucking be, huh?”
“Sometimes, you make me want to bust your mouth with that attitude.”
Yet, his father never did. Never once even raised a hand to him. If anything, his father encouraged Naz to have a loud and opinionated voice. Demanded it of him, really. He made sure his son knew to never allow someone else’s voice to overpower his just because he was younger, or anything of the sort.
Cross made a noise under his breath. “Just … be the man I raised, Naz.”
“I don’t know how to be anything different, Dad.”
“I know. Zeke, on the other hand … well, he no longer has to figure you out as his godson, and this brilliant boy he watched grow up, Naz. He’s got to figure you out as the young man who has suddenly found himself very interested in his seventeen-year-old daughter.”
Naz hesitated in the hallway, even though his father was following close enough behind him to see the action. “Is that what it is—her age?”
Seventeen was legal in New York. He wasn’t robbing a fucking cradle. The woman was old enough to make choices, according to the law. And hadn’t she practically been living as a young adult for a while now?
“I don’t think it’s the age, really,” Cross said, “more … everything else.”
“Everything else,” Naz echoed.
His father walked past him in the hallway, and clapped him on the shoulder. “She’s still his daughter. I know you don’t understand, but I sure as hell do. Keep that in mind while he figures things out, too.”
“Things like what?”
“Oh, Naz.”
That time, his father patted him on the head like a puppy.
“For being so damn brilliant,” his father said, smirking, “you’re terribly fucking dense at times, son.”
“Rude,” Naz grunted.
“Yeah, well … enjoy your breakfast with Roz,” Cross said. “And don’t ask how I know that, either.”
Jesus Christ.
NINE
Roz barely noticed her brother sitting at the kitchen table talking with her mother and father as she entered the room. Although, it really wasn’t that unusual for her brother to show up at their parents’ place at all hours of the day and night. Well, according to what her mother said when they talked on the phone.
She partly blamed it on the fact Luca was a momma’s boy like nobody knew, but also on the fact her brother had just recently moved out. He wasn’t used to not having his parents around, and he couldn’t cook to save his life. He’d starve if it wasn’t for their mother and drive-thrus.
None of that really mattered, though. Her mind was on someone else entirely as she prepped a tea, and scrolled through the last couple of messages on her phone from Naz.
Be there by nine, his last text said.
“Roz, are you going to eat breakfast with us, or keep staring at your phone?” Katya asked.
She glanced up from her phone, and gave her mother an apologetic smile. “I’m heading out for breakfast, actually.”
Roz didn’t miss the way her mother and father passed a look between one another. Katya only smiled in her soft way, while Zeke’s gaze narrowed in on his daughter.
“Is that so?”
She shrugged. “Naz asked. I said yes.”
She didn’t miss the tic in her father’s jaw at that statement. “You didn’t think to ask me if that would be okay, or …?”
Roz laughed, and even Luca passed their father a look for that one. “Since when have you ever cared if I went out with someone for a date?”
“So, that is what it is, then.”
“What?”
“A date,” her father clarified.
“Zeke,” Katya murmured. “Relax. It’s breakfast.”
“Today, Katya. Today, it is breakfast. Tomorrow it could be—”
“Whatever he asks me to do, if I want to do it,” Roz interjected. “That’s kind of how dating works, Daddy.”
Zeke made a noise under his breath, but it was only the look his wife gave him that made her father turn to stare out the window in silence. Still, it kind of irked Roz a bit that her father was choosing to be difficult about something like dating now. That was new. Maybe because it was Naz?
She didn’t know.
“Aren’t you supposed to be practicing?” her brother asked. “Pretty sure I heard you on the phone this morning with … what’s his face.”
Roz rolled her eyes. “Kyle.”
“That guy—yeah.” Luca turned in his seat to look at her. “Isn’t that what you told him you were doing all morning? Practicing.”
“Why don’t you mind your own business, Luca? God knows you don’t need to be in mine.”
Ouch.
She couldn’t even try to hide the sharpness in her tone. No one at the table missed it, either, if the way they all turned to look at her was any indication.
“I told him what he wanted to hear,” Roz said, refusing to meet any of their gazes, “because he won’t leave me alone otherwise. I will practice when I get home. What difference does it make?”
Her brother shrugged. “Didn’t say it made a difference. I just asked a question.”
Mmhmm.
She believed that about as much as she believed the sky was fucking purple. She had no desire to call her brother out on his bullshit, and get in a verbal sparring match first thing in the morning, though, so she dropped it instead.
“You do need to get your focus on track,” her mother said.
“Agreed,” her father grumbled.
Roz shook her head. “I am on track.”
That was a lie.
She wasn’t able to focus at all when she sat down at the piano. Her mind was elsewhere. On the last text he sent. On the next one that might come through. The sound of his voice first thing in the morning. The way it still felt like his hand was holding hers, or that his kiss was on her lips days later.
Yeah, her focus was somewhere. But it certainly was not on the piano, or properly finishing the piece for the audition.
No doubt, it hadn’t escaped her parents’ notice. How could it when up until this point, nearly all of Roz’s life had been dedicated to being the world’s best pianist. She hadn’t even bothered with making friends because friends meant time away from music, and practice, and everything.
“Sure,” her mother said softly. “Just do what you need to do, yes? Whatever is best for you, sweetheart. We’re going to support you no matter what. That’s what we’re here for. Isn’t that right, Zeke?”
Katya passed her husband a look, and then Roz’s father sighed with a nod.
“That’s always been the case,” her father said. “Whatever you need, Roz. You know that.”
“Okay, so this morning … I need to go to breakfast without being made to feel guilty that I am having a life that doesn’t involve me sitting on a piano bench.”
There, she said it.
Let them make of it what they wanted.
Zeke grunted under his breath as something outside the window caught his attention. At the same time her phone buzzed, and a horn beeped outside, her father said, “Have a good breakfast, Roz.”
Her phone said the same thing the beep of the horn essentially did, too. Naz was there, and waiting.
“Thank you, Daddy.”
Zeke smiled. “Looks like Naz is here.”
“And for once,” Luca muttered, digging into his plate again, “he’s not here for me.”
“Okay,” Roz drawled, giving her brother a glare that he couldn’t even see, “that’s enough of this. I’ll see you all later.”
“Be safe,” her father called at her back.
“Zeke!”
“What, Katya?”
“Knock it off.”
Her father’s resounding grumble echoed behind Roz, but she just grinned and kept on walking. Grabbing her bag, a light jacket, and slipping on a pair of ballet flats at the door, she quickly exited the house.
And there he was.
Dark slacks.
White dress shirt.
Leather jacket.
And leaning against a BMW F 800 like the sportsbike was a fucking accessory on his arm or something. The black bike was all sleek lines, and hard curves. A lot like the man resting next to it with a lazy smile, and holding a helmet in both hands.
“Good, you wore jeans,” he said. “I didn’t want to tell you to change.”
Roz was stuck between eyeing the beautiful bike, or the equally sexy man. Maybe this was why her father had looked out the window like he wanted to kill someone. It was very possible.
“Ever been on a bike?” Naz asked.
Roz shook her head. “Not even once.”
“That’s a fucking shame, girl.”
“If I fell, my hands …”
Naz’s easy smile slipped. “You could hurt your hands if you tripped over your own two feet getting out of bed in the morning, Roz.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“I can grab Luca’s car, and trade my bike with him for the day, if you want.” He gestured at her brother’s Camaro parked beside their father’s Lexus. “He’s dying to try this baby out, so he won’t mind.”
Roz didn’t even have to think about it. “No way.”
Naz’s brilliant, sinful smirk was back in an instant. “Yeah?”
Why not?
“No stunts,” she warned.
With a wink, Naz saluted her with two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
“You’re far from a boy scout, Naz.”
“But I’m really good at pretending to be one.”
Roz laughed as she crossed the driveway, and took the helmet he offered in her own hands. “That’s what counts, isn’t it?”
Instead of answering, Naz leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the side of her mouth. Quick, and gentle, it was over before it even began. And yet, that simple, fast kiss lit up a whole fire inside her body.
It made her breath quicken, and her heart race like nothing else.
“Morning,” he said, still staying close enough that the dark brown of his eyes was the only thing she could see. “Since, you know, I didn’t get to tell you that when you first came out.”
Roz wet her lips, and grinned. “Morning to you, too.”
“Don’t be scared of the bike, yeah?” He shrugged in that way of his that spoke of easy confidence and a laid-back demeanor. All things Naz radiated, she thought. “Never be scared of the bike, Roz. Not while I’m driving it, anyway.”
“I’m not scared of the bike.”
“Good.”
He kissed her again, then, but it wasn’t fast, gentle, or anything like the first. It was hard, deep, and lingering. His hand came up to grab the back of her neck to pull her closer, and all she could do was take him in. She could only give in to the sweep of his tongue demanding she open up for him, and lose herself in the way he practically handed over his soul when he kissed her.
He was like Novocain to her senses. Numbing, and wonderful. He lit her up like fireworks, and everything else was nothing more than background noise. A buzz—numbing.
She wasn’t scared of the bike.
The man on it, though …
Well, he terrified her.
But in a really good way.
TEN
Naz might have kept driving past the small roadside breakfast truck despite how hungry he was simply because he was loving the way Roz had wrapped her arms around his body, and was squeezing for all she was worth. He didn’t think it was from fear, either. He had comms set up in the helmets, but he’d kept them shut off. So, the drive had been quiet between the two of them. He didn’t really need words when he could feel her, though.
At the sight of the brightly colored food truck parked where it did every morning—never failed—, Naz pulled the sportsbike off the road smoothly. Even as he found a spot to park the bike, shut off the engine, and dropped down the kickstand, Roz still didn’t let him go.
It was only once he tugged off his helmet did her arms finally unravel from around his middle. He stepped off the bike, and turned to help her with her own helmet. Her mess of wavy hair spilled around her shoulders, and a bright smile lit up her face.
Naz laughed. “Fun, right?”
Roz made a noise. “I mean
… scary might be a better word. At first, anyway.”
“I thought you weren’t scared of the—”
“I wasn’t.” She poked him right in the middle of his chest, making Naz laugh when she mock glared. “And then you had to go and pop up on one tire twice.”
“I had to hit the fuel! You know, to get the fuck out of the way of people trying to cut in front of us.”
She gave him another one of those looks. Naz only shrugged. He actually wasn’t lying. That was the thing about driving a bike on the highway. Fucking nobody looked for a bike. They just merged without looking, and a bike rider had to be careful.
Dress for the fall, not the ride.
There was a reason that whole saying had come about, after all.
“They don’t look for us, is all,” Naz said. “So, defensive driving it is.”
Roz sighed, and smiled but still looked away from him like she didn’t know what she wanted to do with him in that moment. Naz didn’t blame her. Half the time, he didn’t know what in the hell he wanted to do with himself.
So was his life.
Reaching out, he caught one of her stray waves of hair between his forefinger, and thumb. He curled the strand around his finger just because he could. Damn. He hadn’t realized how soft and silky her hair was. He had the strongest urge to just thrust both of his hands into those waves, grab tight, and fucking kiss her.
He didn’t know what she would think of that.
He settled for tucking the strand behind her ear, and then he pulled away. But not before letting his fingertips drift over the shell of her ear, and then across her cheek, too. It pulled a sweet, soft smile from her lips as her sky-blue eyes turned back on him again. Her teeth cut into those pink lips as she watched him for a moment.
“It was fun, though,” she murmured.
Naz smirked. “I know. Anytime you want a ride, baby, you let me know.”
He hadn’t realized how the words could be taken in different ways until they left his mouth, but hey, it was out there now. There was no fucking taking it back. Besides … it wasn’t a goddamn lie, either.
Roz’s cheeks pinked with just a touch of color. “Will do. So, are we taking a break for a minute before we get back on the road, or …?”