Worth the Chance(14)

Chapter 11



Liv

I get to the restaurant and find Vinny at the bar. Ignoring all her other customers, the bartender stands and talks to him, leaning suggestively over the bar so he has a clear view of her ridiculously large, obviously fake breasts. Her stance clearly intentional. Unexpectedly, I feel a pang of jealousy, but I push it down and force myself to ignore my innate reaction.

“Hey.” I walk over to the bar and greet Vinny. He stands and kisses me on the cheek, one hand on my hip, quickly forgetting the conversation he was in the midst of. His strong grip on me sends goosebumps racing and a tingle washes over my skin. I almost jump back at the power with which it hits me. Damn, I need to keep some physical distance from this man. I smile politely at the waiting bartender, but she shoots me a nasty look when Vinny leads us away without so much as a glance back at her.

We’re seated in a booth off to the back of the restaurant. It’s quiet, perfect for an interview. Although not an easy task, I force my thoughts back to business. But instead of sitting on the other side of the booth, Vinny settles in beside me, his arm casually draped around the back of the wide seat.

I’ve sometimes seen couples sitting beside each other in a booth and thought it looked odd. It just seems more natural to have a conversation sitting across from someone. Only now do I see what the appeal is. It’s intimate, allowing low spoken conversations and innocent brushes from the close proximity. But sitting this close to Vinny makes me flustered. I’m also seated on the inside, against the wall. It makes me feel cornered somehow, and it pisses me off that my body seems to like it, regardless of what my brain is telling me.

“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable over there?” I point to the other side of the table.

“No. I like it here. Does it bother you?” he says, a knowing smirk on his face.

“Not at all, it’s fine,” I lie.

Vinny twists at the waist and pulls one knee up on the seat so he’s facing me. He’s dressed in low hanging jeans and a black V-neck sweater, making him look casual and understated. With the way the clothes hang on his body, he looks more like a model than a fighter. A model who doesn’t really care about his appearance, yet he looks perfect without effort.

I take a deep breath and try to delve into my work. “So tell me, are you nervous about the upcoming fight?”

“No.”

“Your opponent has slung some mud at you, claiming you’re a drug addict. Do you want to respond to his accusations?”

“No.”

“Are all of your answers going to be this short? Because it’s going to be difficult to make an article out of the word no.”

“Ask better questions then.”

Offended, I take a defensive attitude. “There’s nothing wrong with my questions.”

“How about we take turns. I’ll give you longer answers, but we go question for question.” He scooches an inch closer to me.

“I’m not the one being interviewed.”

“Apparently, then neither am I.” Leisurely grabbing a breadstick from the table, Vinny casually bites off a piece. A twinkle in his eye tells me he’s quite enjoying himself.

“You’re really going to make this difficult, aren’t you?”

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” he says.

I get the urge to smack the smug smile off his face. He knows I need this interview and he’s arrogant enough to hold it over me to have his fun.

“Fine. But I go first.”

“Always.” The flirtatious smile is back.

“Do you have a drug problem?”

Vinny shoots me a hard glance. “No. But I did. I started doing some stupid stuff after I broke my arm last year and couldn’t fight. In the beginning, I told myself it was to stop the pain. But it got out of control. Quickly. I’ve been clean for six months. Nico, my trainer, wouldn’t train me unless I was. He does random testing to make sure I stay on track.”

His honesty makes me feel less guarded. Studying his face while he speaks, I can’t help but take in every masculine feature. The way his mouth moves, the five o’clock shadow that brushes onto his chin and frames the squareness of his jaw. I find it difficult to stop staring.

Vinny’s gaze slides over mine and a wry half grin graces his sinfully beautiful face as he speaks. “My turn.”

I smile hesitantly. The playfulness in his voice, coupled with the dimples peeking out of his smile, makes me think he is enjoying himself, even though he just revealed something difficult.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

A pretty waitress comes to take our order and Vinny orders for both of us without asking. Lasagna. For lunch. It’s not something I would ever order at this time of the day, but I find it sweet he remembers what I’d always ordered for dinner when we studied late back in high school.