Wrong (A Bad Boy Romance)(87)

“You’re going to want this again,” he mutters in my ear. “Again and again. You’re going to come to me after my next fight, Jess. And if you don’t, I’ll come find you.”

The gentleness of his hand on my hair is a strange contrast to the forcefulness of his words. It makes me want to nod, to accept everything he’s telling me. Yes, I’ll be there. Yes, I’ll fall down at your feet and let you do whatever you want to me.

I just hold his gaze. He kisses me carefully.

“I promise, Jess. I’ll come after you.”

“Fine.” I jerk a little, wanting him to let me go, but I can’t put too much force into it. My body’s betraying me at every turn. But he lets go, and I go to find a towel. I turn my back to him. If I look at him right now, I’ll just run back into his arms and impale myself on him.

You are in some kind of trouble, girl.

I close my eyes, scrub my face dry, and try to ignore that stupid voice in my head.

#

In the car, dry and back in my clothes, I stare out the window for a few minutes before I turn on the ignition. Cain’s still inside the gym. I left him there to finish his shower—he hadn’t gotten all the sweat out of his hair, he said. Maybe it was his way to grant me a graceful retreat. Who knows?

I turn on the car. The rhythm of the motor running helps my thoughts settle into a more dignified order. I can think now, past the throbbing aftershocks in my body, past the vague smell of Cain’s sweat that still lingers on my blouse.

This is such a bad idea. This is like playing with a tiger at the zoo and hoping he won’t tear your head off when he gets hungry. No, it’s more than that, because my father’s involved. I’m not just playing with Cain’s fire. It’s Pop’s fire, too. If he knew what was going on here…

I can’t even finish the thought, the consequences are so dire. I wonder briefly if Pop would just kill me. I don’t think it’s beyond his ability. I don’t think it’s outside his moral compass, if you can call it that.

But there’s another side to this. I put the car into gear and pull out onto the street, letting some of the stray thoughts I’d had in the shower drift back into my head.

Cain’s not Carmine. He’s not my father’s approved life partner. And there’s something between the two of us that neither of us can ignore or deny. What if…

Don’t think it. But I have to. What if I married Cain instead of Carmine? What would Pop do about that? Cain is still under Pop’s control, but not the same way Carmine is. With Cain… With Cain I can almost see a route out of the mob-made jungle that is my life. Because Cain wants out, too.

And maybe…just maybe…we could find a way to get out together.

It’s a stupid idea, but it won’t go away.

#

Most people would probably be ecstatic to get the chance to go to a big Hollywood premiere. I’ve been to them before; I get to see celebrities and sometimes hang out at an after party or two. But I’m not most people, and the company I have to keep more than offsets the fun of bumping elbows with the local elite. Add to that the knowledge that I’m only here because Pop likes to be sure he’s got some kind of a presence at these things—undoubtedly somebody here (or several somebodies) is deep into Pop’s pocket—and I wish I were about anywhere else.

And maybe one place in particular. Somewhere Cain is.

Carmine’s dressed to the nines, of course, black tie and shiny shoes, his dark hair slicked back and a smile on his face. Objectively he’s not an unattractive man, but I can’t help but flinch when he loops his arm through mine, helping me out of the limo.

“What’s wrong, hon?” he asks.

“Nothing.” I avoid eye contact. I don’t want him to know I’m anything but pleased to be here. There’s no point starting a scene. It might make me feel better in the moment, but in the long run it’d only make things harder.

He drops it right away, not concerned enough to follow up. Instead he looks around, scoping out the crowd. He’s probably got orders from Pop as far as exactly where he’s supposed to be seen and with whom. Probably even when.

Apparently deciding where he wants to be, he starts toward the red carpet area where all the celebrities are arriving. I follow without protest, his arm still tucked through mine.

“So…” I venture. “Why are we here?”

He gives me a look like maybe I’ve grown an extra eyeball. “For the party. Why else?”

“C’mon. There has to be a reason. Has Pop got a hand in the financing or something?”

Carmine frowns. “That’s nothing you need to worry about, sweetheart. You’re just here to look pretty.” He pats my hand absently.