Oh no. Tension shot through Savio’s body and his hold on my waist tightened further as he slowly sat up with me still on his lap. “Try it.”
The threat in Savio’s voice stunned me. I touched his forearm, fingertips brushing the scars there, and his expression, still fixed on my brother, became even harsher.
My eyes darted between my brother and Savio, realizing this had just turned dead serious for them. This was going to turn into a testosterone-fueled shitfest. And no offense to Diego, who was a nasty piece of shit in the fighting ring, but I had seen Savio in the cage. He was a Falcone, and fighting was in his blood, and so was a talent to destroy his opponents with words and fists.
If those two ever killed each other, it wouldn’t be because of me. I jammed my heel down on Savio’s foot. He grunted and loosened his hold on my waist, giving me the chance to jump to my feet and ram my fist into Diego’s stomach, causing him to groan and jerk back.
“You are idiots.”
I whirled around and stomped upstairs. I needed to get away from Savio before I did something even stupider.
Diego was breathing hard beside me as he stared after Gemma who rushed up the stairs. My eyes, too, followed her ascent, unable to tear myself away from the outline of her ass in those sweatpants. Gemma made even those look sexy.
She was a goddamn enigma.
In all the time I’d known her, she never said ‘fuck’. With everyone else, I’d have rolled my fucking eyes hearing the word ‘fudge’ as a curse, but she made it work. That girl loved to fight and could throw a mean punch, and yet at the same time, she loved to watch those vomit-inducing chic-flicks featuring those pussies claiming to be men and the color pink. I didn’t even know there were boxing gloves in pink.
Gemma was the hottest girl in the city and didn’t even realize it. She was the girl I wanted most and couldn’t have.
Diego narrowed his eyes at me, still standing over me.
I leaned back again, cocking a brow.
“Don’t ever touch her again.”
I rose slowly, stepping up to him. “Or what?”
Diego looked like he was considering murdering me. “If you don’t honor our values, if you don’t respect that our women are off limits unless they are your woman, then you can’t come over anymore. I’ll have to protect Gemma at all costs. If you pose a risk to her, our friendship has to end.”
“Pose a risk to her?” I scoffed. “She sat on my lap. I didn’t pull her down, and I didn’t touch her inappropriately, Diego. I wrapped an arm around her waist.”
“That’s already too much,” he muttered. “Gemma doesn’t know what she’s doing. She doesn’t realize how you’ll take it if she sits on your lap.”
“How do I take it?”
“You’ll think she might be up for more or that she’s hitting on you.”
“She is hitting on me. We both know it.”
Diego tensed.
“Calm the fuck down, asshole. I know Gemma isn’t up for more. But you know as well as I do that she’s got a crush on me.”
“It doesn’t matter. You can’t have her—unless you marry her.”
I laughed and sank back down on the couch. Lifting my shirt, I clapped my hand on my bull tattoo peeking out. “This bull won’t ever be chained to one woman.”
Diego rolled his eyes but finally sat down as well. “Believe me, I know. Now only Gemma has to get it in her stubborn head. Maybe it’ll sink in once Dad’s found a husband for her.”
“He’s looking?” I asked, trying to determine why I felt the urge to crush something.
“Yeah.” Diego regarded me.
I relaxed against the headrest with a shrug. “He’d better know how to throw a punch or she’s going to bulldoze him.”
I couldn’t imagine Gemma with a guy, with another guy. Having her on my lap had felt fucking good, and her reaction had been cute, the way she’d tensed in shock when I’d wrapped my arm around her and then softened after a moment.
“Gemma won’t be allowed to keep fighting once she’s promised. Most men don’t allow their women something like that, especially Traditionalists.”
Diego shrugged, but he was looking at me in a way I didn’t like one bit.
Diego was already parked at the curb when Toni and I walked out of school on the last day before the summer holidays. I hugged her before she headed for her bike and I got into the car.
Diego drove off at once, honking when a few kids didn’t cross the street fast enough.
“Bad mood?” I asked.
“Not yet. But that’ll probably change today.”
He was referring to his training with Savio. Diego wanted me to stay away from him and in the last four months, he’d succeeded.
“Mick told me to say hi to you.”
My brows snapped together. “Okay. Tell him hi back, I guess?”
Diego shook his head, muttering something under his breath. I decided to ignore him.
The moment we stepped into the restaurant and I saw Dad’s face, I knew I wouldn’t like what he’d have to say.
I sank down beside him and he pressed a kiss to my temple. Diego slid into the booth next to me. The door to the kitchen swung open and Nonna walked out, carrying a casserole.
Dad cleared his throat. “Gemma, I can’t wait any longer. We need to find a good man for you. Someone who’ll take care of you. We can’t focus on only one possible suitor. You’re not getting younger.”
Dad made it sound as if I was an old spinster and not only sixteen.
Nonna set down the casserole and gave me a knowing smile.
“But, Dad, you know I want…”
“You want Savio Falcone, we all know it,” Diego muttered. “As if he was the second coming of Christ.”
Nonna hit him over the head and muttered a quick prayer under her breath.
Diego rubbed the spot, ducking his head in case Nonna decided he needed a second round. “It’s the truth, and it’s a disgrace how she acts around him.”
Dad’s expression hardened and he leveled his disapproving eyes on me. “How are you acting?”
“I’m not doing anything,” I said, ducking my head too so I could send Diego a scowl. What was his problem? He usually didn’t rat me out.
“I hope you aren’t doing anything that’ll disgrace our family, angelo mio.”
I flushed, realizing what he was thinking.
“That’s not what I meant, Dad,” Diego said at once. “Gemma would never do that. But she’s been telling him about your search for suitors every time she saw him and giving him those embarrassing puppy dog eyes as if that would make him ask for her hand.”
Nonna touched my shoulder. “Young love is so precious.”
“It’s one-sided. Savio doesn’t do love. He only—”
Dad cleared his throat and Diego shrugged. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“I do,” Dad agreed. He stroked my head as if I was still a little girl. “Men like him, Gemma, don’t marry, and you are far too precious to settle for what he wants.”
I cast my eyes down. “I know.”
“Good.”
We ate in silence until Diego and I left for our training with Savio. Dad sent me another meaningful look. He and Diego wanted to protect me, but I needed to give it another try. I wanted Savio and no one else.
I wasn’t allowed to fight Savio, only watch him and Diego spar with each other. But considering that I hadn’t even been allowed to do that the last few months, I was more than happy to work out at the boxing sack.
Diego always hovered close by, not giving me a second alone with Savio. After their fight training, he finally headed for the bathroom. I quickly knotted my baggy shirt so my abs showed while Savio wiped his face with a towel. My eyes were drawn to the sliver of skin that peeked out where his shirt rode up. The hint of black peeked out of his waistband. A tattoo? I hadn’t seen him without a shirt for years.
“You got a new tattoo?” I asked curiously, unable to stop myself. I walked closer like a moth is drawn to the light.
Savio lowered the towel, his dark eyes taking in my exposed stomach, and something in his expression filled my insides with butterflies. “Got it a few years ago.” The way his mouth twitched increased my curiosity. The tattoos on his forearms were always on display—the Camorra knife and eye on one wrist, and a mechanical watch speared by a knife surrounded by glass shards covering the scars on his other, but I wondered where exactly this third tattoo was.
“How big is it?” I asked without thinking. Mortification heated up my face when I realized how that sounded.
Savio chuckled. “Big.”
I had to bite my tongue not to ask what he was talking about and I knew that had been his intention in the first place. “What is it?”
“Telling you would ruin the effect. You have to see it,” he said, his voice lower than usual. Was he flirting? Or was I imagining things driven by despair?
Diego sauntered out of the bathroom, his eyes zooming in on my exposed stomach.
“Looks like you’re in trouble,” Savio said.
“I don’t care. He’s being unreasonable.”
“What’s going on here?”
“We’re talking about my tattoo,” Savio said, pointing toward his crotch.