“A girl shouldn’t drive around alone in this city,” Mom said, coming up from behind. She embraced Toni briefly.
We all headed into the kitchen where the table was already set. Dad carried the huge pot of stew over to the table and gave Toni a smile. Only Nonna’s reaction was rather reserved. Not only did she disapprove of Toni’s dad raising her alone, Nonna also disapproved of the fact that Toni wasn’t a full-fledged Italian. Her Grandma had been from Corse, and that came close to a crime in Nonna’s eyes.
“Good evening, Mrs. Bazzoli,” Toni greeted my nonna with a bright smile as usual as she sat down beside me. Toni was good at ignoring other people’s rejection, which was probably why we got along so well. We weren’t really part of the IT-crowd in school.
After dinner, Toni and I headed up to my room and flung us on my bed with the girls’ magazines she’d smuggled into the house in her overnight bag.
“Did you bring the clothes?”
She nodded with a conspiratorial smile. “But you know that I don’t do sports outside of school, so I didn’t have many to choose from.”
“Everything is better than the old baggy clothes from my brother.”
“What was with him? He acted strange around me today.”
I distracted myself with one of the magazines and shrugged, not having the guts to tell Toni that Diego found out about her crush and her period because he was a nosy idiot. “Oh, he’s just angry because I get to train with Savio tomorrow. You know how he is. If he could, he’d put me on a leash.”
Toni nodded. “He’s a bit overbearing, but it means he cares.”
A hint of sadness rang in her voice.
“Your dad loves you, Toni. He’s just very busy trying to make the Arena a success. It’s not easy to earn the respect of the Camorrista considering…”
“Considering we’re not fully Italian.”
“Yeah,” I said, then nudged her and pointed toward the article I’d opened. “How to tell if a boy is into you.”
Toni grinned. “Are you going to use this on Savio tomorrow?”
I giggled. “Maybe.”
“You have to tell me everything in detail.”
“You know there won’t be anything that interesting to tell.”
She rolled her eyes. “You really sure you don’t want to give kissing a chance before marriage?”
I pushed her. “No!”
She giggled. “I would kiss Diego if he made a move.”
“Eeewww! Toni, please, I just ate. I don’t want to imagine you kissing my brother.”
She feigned a dreamy expression. “I’m sure he is a marvelous kisser.”
I tried shoving her off my bed, but she snatched the covers and with a screech, we both landed on the floor.
A knock sounded. “What’s going on here? Some people are trying to sleep,” Diego muttered, dressed in sweatpants and T-Shirt, but his hair was freshly styled and a hint of black jeans peeked out of his pant leg.
“I doubt you’ll get much sleep tonight,” I said, nodding toward his ankle. He followed my gaze then grimaced and quickly hid the black fabric. “You keep your nose out of my business.”
“Why? You have your nose in my business all the time.”
“Which is why I should tell on you,” he said with a nod toward the magazines.
“Goodnight, Diego and tell Savio hi.”
Toni and I exchanged a look and burst into a new wave of giggles. He shook his head slowly then left but didn’t close the door.
I almost rolled my eyes. Overbearing brother as usual. He would probably spend the night partying again. Did he really think I hadn’t noticed? Our rooms were right beside each other and the walls paper-thin.
It was midday when I pulled up in front of the church. I hadn’t been inside one of these buildings in years, and didn’t really feel any urge to change that. I’d probably go up in flames the second I passed the threshold. With a name like Falcone, my brothers and I had VIP tickets for the antlered bastard’s fiery show anyway.
A crowd had gathered in front of the church and tables with bowls were set up.
The roar of my engine drew many looks and when I got out, most of the men nodded in greeting. This commune consisted mostly of Camorra families, so I knew all the men, and none of the women, which was unusual enough. No matter where I showed up, the risk of meeting a former fuck buddy was always high, not here, however. Remo had made his point perfectly clear regarding me making a move on girls from traditional families and so I stayed away. I preferred my balls attached to my body.
Diego headed over to me at once, looking like a fucking mother-in-law’s delight with a polo-shirt and dress pants. The rest of his family was still immersed in conversation with the priest.
Dark shadows spread under Diego’s eyes. “You look like shit. Long night?” I flashed him a grin. We’d partied until six in the morning, so he couldn’t have gotten more than one hour of sleep before he had to get up for church.
“I need to talk to you.”
I leaned against my Bugatti and cocked one eyebrow. “Am I in trouble?” I asked mockingly.
“I’m not in the mood for jokes. I need to have a word with you before I allow you to spend time with my sister.”
I straightened, narrowing my eyes. “Allow me?” In this city, I didn’t need anyone’s permission to do anything—except for Remo’s.
“I expect you to honor our values and not act inappropriately toward Gemma in any way.”
Was he fucking serious? “All right, Diego, why don’t you go fuck yourself? You really think I’d hit on your thirteen-year-old sister?”
I was going to punch his fucking jaw. He sighed. “No. But it’s my job to protect her and make sure she’s safe. You make fun of our values all the time.”
“Mainly because you are very selective when choosing to live up to your values, or do I have to remind you of last night’s encounter with Dakota? Was she reciting her fucking Hail Mary or why was she kneeling in front of you with your dick in her mouth?”
Diego glanced around with a worried look. “Shhh. I don’t want Nonna or my mother to find out.”
“That you enjoy a nice BJ now and then?” Diego looked around again. I scoffed. “Whatever. Rest assured, I’ll keep my hands to myself around Gemma. Fuck, she’s like a kid sister for me.”
Diego shoved his hands into his pockets and nodded. His hypocrisy sometimes drove me up the walls. His father strode over to me, followed by Gemma, who was mostly hidden behind his bulky and tall frame—one Diego had inherited.
Daniele held out his hand and I shook it. He definitely squeezed my hand harder than usual. “I hear you’re going to take Gemma fighting today.”
“I’ll show her a few moves as promised,” I said, trying to keep my sarcasm to a minimum.
Diego tossed me a warning look.
Daniele gave me a tight smile. It was the first time he was anything but friendly to me. Gemma still hovered behind him in her knee-length polka-dotted dress with a fucking bow around the waist and a white collar. There was even a bow in her ponytail.
Fuck, just the thought of hitting on her made my balls shrivel to the size of raisins.
“I trust you keep her safe as Diego would. We appreciate that you and your brothers show respect for our traditions,” Daniele said. The hint of warning rang in his voice, raising my hackles. It took all my meager self-control not to give him a piece of my mind. Nobody threatened my brothers or me.
“Don’t worry, Daniele. Gemma will be the safest girl in Vegas when she’s with me. I’ll protect her like a little sister.”
Gemma’s lips pinched.
Daniele nodded, satisfied. Then he led Gemma toward my car with a protective hand on her back. Her eyes grew wide when she spotted my copper Bugatti. It was a favorite with the ladies. I took her gym bag from Daniele, dropped it in my small trunk, and walked toward the driver’s side.
Daniele sent me another meaningful look before he closed the door. I resisted the urge to floor the gas and take off with spinning tires. Instead I pulled away from the curb slowly. Gemma waved at her family, beaming like the kid that she was.
Diego was a fucking idiot.
Gemma folded her hands in her lap, then darted her eyes to me. Slowly she turned red. She squirmed in her seat, looking like she was about to have a difficult math test.
“You okay?”
She jumped. “Oh yes, sorry. It’s just…”
“Just?” I twisted toward her when we stopped at a red light.
“This is the first time I’m alone with a boy who isn’t family.”
The light turned green and I hit the gas, making Gemma’s eyes widen. “You’ve known me for years. I’m practically family.”
She didn’t look happy about that. “I’m not your sister, you know?”
I chuckled. “I’m aware of that, yes.”
Silence descended on us. I turned the music on, my favorite playlist. The pounding bass of “Candy Shop” by 50 Cent filled the car. I drummed my fingers in rhythm to the sound.
Gemma frowned. “This song doesn’t make sense. Why does a rapper sing about lollipops and rodeos?”
“That’s a euphemism for a BJ.” I closed my mouth. Fuck, that’s probably not something I should have said.