“By the way, don’t think I didn’t notice the way you mangled my toothpaste.”
“Huh?” My eyes popped open, and I looked at him. “Mangled your toothpaste. What the hell are you talking about?”
He poked the side of my ribs with our interlaced hands. “You squeezed the middle instead of rolling up the end.”
I blinked. “So?”
“Who does that?”
I raised my eyebrows. “Apparently, me.”
“Yeah, well, that needs to stop.” He clucked at me. “That’s the kind of stuff that will ruin our fake engagement.”
“Thanks for the tip. I’ll lodge a complaint about your dictatorial ways with Carmela to lay the groundwork for our impending breakup.”
He snorted. “Carmela has to take my side. She’s my twin. Twins trump friends.”
I grinned. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Evangeline
My eyes blinked open, and I felt nearly as tired as I did when I finally fell asleep last night. With a heavy sigh, I rolled onto my side. Big red numbers on the alarm clock screamed at me.
9:18.
Crap.
Double crap.
I had booked time in the dance studio at ten. I’d be late even if I managed to get ready and out the door in the next fifteen minutes. I jumped out of bed, and cold air hit my naked form like a brick wall. A rush of uncomfortable memories taunted me. Jeered at me.
My stomach bottomed out. Flames licked at my cheeks. My knees wobbled, and even supposing I wanted to pretend like last night didn’t happen, my first step shattered the illusion. I was deliciously sore in all the wrong…or right places. I couldn’t decide which. My sleepy brain scrambled for a way to rationalize what had happened between us.
Don’t think about it. Don’t think about him. It doesn’t matter.
The clock ticking, I yanked a t-shirt over my head and ran out of the room. Ten minutes later, I was dressed with my dance bag slung over my shoulder and rushing toward the front door. I skidded to a halt when I noticed Gian sitting at the long walnut kitchen table, scrolling through his phone.
My heart stopped for a second then lurched into gear, beating double time, fueled by my already frazzled nerves. I’d counted on not seeing him for a day or two, or at worst until tonight. He was normally long gone by this time of day. Now that I thought about it, though, I’d seen him more in the last three days than the entire previous week.
“Where’s Tony?” I kept my voice monotone all while silently begging my face not to blush.
It wasn’t like I’d never hooked up with a guy and had to face him the next day, but it happened infrequently enough that I felt decidedly awkward. I didn’t know where to put my hands. I didn’t know where to look, so my gaze bounced everywhere other than on him. I licked my lips. I fidgeted from one leg to the other. More than a little annoyed with myself, I froze like a deer caught in headlights. Was there anything more pathetic than the way I was acting? Because right then, I felt like an enormous loser who couldn’t handle a simple hookup with sophisticated indifference.
Gian looked at me over the rim of his blue coffee mug, one brow cocked, his ever-smirking lips mocking my discomfort. “He had some personal business today, so I gave him the day off.”
“Well, then…” I tugged on the cornflower blue infinity scarf that felt more like a noose around my neck the longer he looked at me. “I guess I’ll catch a cab. See you later.”
He stood, the metal legs of his chair scraping across the ebony-stained hardwood floors. “Where are you going?”
“Dancing.” At his blank look, I continued. “I booked some private time in a dance studio to practice and get in shape. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
“Ah, right. I don’t know how I forgot.” He snagged his phone from the table and stuffed it in the back pocket of his dark jeans. “I’ll give you a ride.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’m fine taking a cab.” I flipped my hand toward him. “I’m sure you have better stuff to do. Don’t you have to work or something like that?”
“Nope. It’s Monday. The club isn’t open.” He edged closer to me, his heavy footfalls ringing in my ears. “Besides, I don’t want you wandering around by yourself. It’s not a good idea after what happened last night.”
My brows scrunched together, and my heart did this weird fluttery thing inside my chest. For a fleeting second, I thought he meant what happened between us. Then I remembered the drive home, and my shoulders uncoiled with relief. I didn’t want to jump right into a conversation about the meaning of last night. It’d muddle my thoughts and tear my attention away from dancing, and I needed to remain focused on my career regardless of what happened in my personal life.