Flow Page 9

“I’m not a good liar,” she tells me like I don’t already know this. “I’ll buy you some time, but you better get your ass back here because I can only entertain him for so long.”

  “Find a way,” I say. “Flirt with him or something.”

  There’s a pause from the other end. “I’ll do my best.”

  I jam my phone back into my purse as I stand. “I have to leave now. Things are getting too complicated, and someone’s bound to find out.”

  Leo follows me to the door. “This is it, then?” he asks, and the look in his eyes tugs at my heart.

  “We’re both in danger. This has to be the end.” My voice wavers on the last few words.

  Leo moves closer. “I want things to be different.”

  I resist the urge to say the same thing. It won’t make this easier or change anything. We can wish all we want, but that won’t do a damn thing. I’ll still be a Gallo, and he’ll be a Conti, making any type of relationship between us impossible.

  He snakes his arm around my back and pulls my body flush against his. He’s staring into my eyes, intense as always, and he leans forward. I love being in his arms, surrounded by his scent and caught in his intense gaze. I slide my hands up his arms, gripping his delicious biceps and tethering myself to him.

  “Goodbye, Daphne,” he says softly with his lips only a few centimeters away from mine.

  My gaze dips to his mouth, hoping he’ll kiss me. “Goodbye, Leo,” I whisper before locking eyes with him again.

  His eyes search mine, and all the air inside his penthouse evaporates. My breathing’s shallow as I wait for the moment his lips touch mine, praying he’ll kiss me one last time. The wait isn’t long before he leans forward, bringing me closer, and crashes his mouth down on top of mine.

  Any breath I have left is instantly stolen. His kiss is demanding, rough, and makes my toes curl. There’s no goodbye in the way his tongue slides against mine. Only a promise of something more, something better.

  I pull away, breaking the kiss before I become too consumed and lose the willpower to walk out the door. My grip on his arms increases as I hold him at a distance and gasp for air.

  He stares at me, breathing just as heavily as I am, but he doesn’t say a word. I can’t bring myself to say goodbye again, but I know I have to leave. Without speaking, I back up, waiting until the last moment to pull my hands away from his body and open the door. Leo stands in the hall, watching as I walk backward into the hallway, eyes locked on his for only a few seconds before turning my back and heading toward the elevator.

  Why is it so damn hard to say goodbye to him? I don’t love the man, but the lust is there and totally undeniable.

  A week ago, I barely knew the name Leo Conti, but now… Now, I can’t seem to get him out of my system.

  11

  Daphne

  One month later

  “Daphne!” Vinnie yells from the other room as he slams the front door, making me jump. “I’m home.”

  It’s been four weeks since Vinnie went back to college and I said goodbye to Leo. They’ve also been the longest thirty days of my entire life. Every few days, Leo has two dozen red roses delivered to my place with nothing but the letter L on the card. They’re constant reminders of what could’ve been if I’d only said yes, but I know I made the right decision, even if my heart doesn’t agree.

  I drop the pillow I’ve been holding and run into the living room. “Vinnie!” Flinging my arms around him, I pepper his face with kisses, happy he’s here and hoping he’ll get my mind off Leo for a few days.

  “Hey!” Vinnie wraps his massive arms around me, lifts me off the floor, and spins us in a circle. “I knew you missed me.”

  “You’re an asshole.” I laugh.

  His head jerks back, and he looks hurt. “What did I do now?”

  “It’s been a month since you’ve been home. We’ve all missed you.” I squeeze him one more time before finding my footing.

  He laughs and shakes his head, showing off his cute dimples. “You know where to find me, sis.”

  Even though he’s in his junior year, I still haven’t gotten used to Vinnie being gone so much. During football season, he barely made it home because of the grueling travel schedule and never-ending workouts and practices.

  “You look bigger.” I take a step back and stare at him. “Soon you’re going to be so big you’re going to look like one of those guys with a shrunken head from Beetlejuice.”

  He’s almost as tall as Angelo and Lucio, with the same thick mocha eyebrows, but his hair matches mine, filled with warm caramel browns and streaks of chocolate. His arms have grown, becoming thicker and more defined, looking more like a man than a kid these days.

  “Beetle-what?”

  “Never mind.” I shake my head, wishing the kid would expand his horizons and taste in movies just a little bit beyond The Fast and the Furious.

  “Shut up,” he teases and shows off his way-too-big muscles, flexing them repeatedly. “I’ve been bulking for football.”

  “Uh, yeah. I can see that.” I wave my hands in his direction and mock him by hunching my shoulders and raising them near my head like the Hulk. “How do I look?” I say in a deep, macho voice, stalking around my apartment like an idiot.

  The perfect V in the center of his top lip flattens as he crosses his arms in front of his chest and glares at me with his striking green eyes. “Like an idiot.”

  “It’s like lookin’ in the mirror, huh?” I giggle as I continue to act a fool, and Vinnie can’t help but laugh too.

  “Are you going to be a pain in my ass all weekend?”

  “I’m sure you’re the big man on campus. Someone has to give you a reality check, little brother.” I head toward the bedroom I made up for him. “Come on. Get settled. I’ve got to go to work.”

  He leans against the doorframe, studying me as I finish making up the guest bed for him. “You look thinner,” he says softly as he studies me.

  “Is that how you compliment all the ladies? Because you’re going to be single forever with lines like that.” I punch the pillow and toss it near the headboard.

  “No. You look good, sis. I’m just wondering why you look thinner.”

  I place my hands on my hips and glare at him. “I started working out. Why?”

  He raises his hands in the air when I start to move toward him. “Just making an observation. As long as you’re doing it the right way and not starving yourself to become a bean pole like you did after the Tommy Pasquale incident.”

  I blow a piece of hair away from my eyes that had fallen during my tug-of-war with the sheets that never seem to want to fit over the mattress.

  “Unpack and settle in,” I tell him before brushing past him in the doorway. I don’t feel like rehashing the past with my little brother or explaining how my heart was a little broken after saying goodbye to Leo. “I’ve got to get to work.”

  “Okay.” He stalks into the living room and stretches, barely able to hold back a yawn. “I’m going to come help out at the bar tonight.”

  My eyebrows shoot up because Vinnie never wants to work. “You are?”

  “I figure you could use some help.”

  My mouth hangs open, and I blink at him, wondering if I heard him right. “Say that again.”

  “I figure you could use some help.”

  The only reason Vinnie would want to work is pussy. It’s his driving force in life. Well, women and football, to be exact. “If you’re planning on hooking up with some barfly, don’t even think about bringing them back here. If you come there to work, that’s fine, but it’s not a pussy buffet.”

  “Come on, sis,” he pleads with an innocent face. His dimples deepen, making him look sweet, when he’s the furthest thing from it.

  Vinnie has always caused trouble, but usually, Angelo and Lucio would get blamed because people thought Vinnie was an angel. The boy had troublemaker written all over his face, but it seemed to be visible only to us and nobody else.

 
; “Keep that shit in your pants.” I point toward his lower half. “We don’t need some neighborhood skank trying to get knocked up by the great Vinnie Gallo. You got me?”

  “If I pick someone up, I promise I’ll put a raincoat on it.”

  I gag, being overdramatic, but he’s still my little brother. The thought of anyone wanting to have sex with him is just plain gross. “Just cover that shit. I’d hate for you to drop out of college because of a quick fuck.”

  “Quick?” A smirk dances on his lips. “I’m never quick.”

  “Shut up.” I punch his shoulder playfully.

  “How’s Ma?”

  “Nuttier than ever. You’ll see.”

  “I’ve missed her,” he admits with a soft smile.

  “Well, you’ll get your fill this weekend.”

  Vinnie glances around, and I realize I haven’t thrown out last week’s flowers or the ones before that. They’re wilted, and they look awful. “Someone likes you. Anything you want to tell me?”

  I roll my eyes. “No. They’re from a friend.”

  “I don’t send roses to my friends.” He smirks.

  “I have to get to the bar,” I tell him, changing the subject.

  He yawns, walking back to his room and stretching before collapsing back onto the bed. “I’m going to close my eyes for a minute, and I’ll be over.”

  “Sure,” I mutter.

  Vinnie is notorious for breaking promises—he has that much in common with my father.

  “I swear to God, I’ll be there. Don’t give me shit. It was a long drive.” He’s so full of it. His college is a whopping two-hour drive from my place. That does not constitute a long drive in anyone’s book.

  “Bye.” I close the door, leaving him to get his beauty sleep.

  “Did Vinnie make it okay?” Angelo asks from behind the bar before I even have two feet inside Hook & Hustle.

  “Depends on what your idea of okay is.”

  He looks up for a moment and quirks an eyebrow. “Is he alive, at least?”

  “Yeah, yeah. He’s alive and napping.” I shove my purse under the counter, wishing like hell I was napping too.

  Angelo goes back to studying a stack of papers, running his pen down the sheet before flipping to the next page. “Is that what it’s like to be in college?”

  “What? Laziness? I don’t fucking think so.”

  “Must be a jock thing,” Lucio says as he walks into the front of the bar, overhearing our conversation.

  “I’m sure he gets an easy ride because he’s the star football player,” I tell them, remembering the shit he got out of doing in high school. “It’s bullshit, but it’s always been that way with him.”

  “It’s just a good thing he can actually read and write with all the homework he didn’t have to do,” Lucio says and starts to laugh. “That little prick.”

  “Speaking of little pricks.” Angelo smirks and turns his attention to Lucio. “How’s the wife?” he asks.

  I walk away as they start to talk about the honeymoon phase, something I know nothing about. At the rate I’m going, I’m not sure I’ll ever experience being that blissfully happy either.

  “Tino!” a few old-timers yell as my father walks through the front door, making a spectacle and a grand entrance.

  He strolls through the crowd, shaking hands with his friends like he’s a celebrity, before making his way to me. “Hey, doll, how’s business tonight?”

  He’s been back a month now, but the man hasn’t put in an hour’s work at the bar, even though he’s required to as part of his early release program.

  I grab a glass, trying not to get an attitude. “Busy as always, Dad. Want to help?”

  He takes a step back and clears his throat. “I can’t tonight, Daphne. I’m pretty busy.”

  “Yeah,” I mumble. “Sure looks like it.”

  He runs his hand through his salt-and-pepper hair and motions over his shoulder. “Well, I better go check on your mother.”

  I nod because it doesn’t matter what I say, he’s not going to pitch in. There’s no use wasting my breath. “She’s out back.”

  “Don’t worry. He’s still adjusting,” Michelle tells me as she shoves a tip into her front pocket.

  “Did your dad act like this when he got out?”

  “He wasn’t himself for a while, but he slowly got back into the groove,” she says while she checks her makeup in the mirror behind the bar.

  My dad didn’t have a groove.

  He had a way of life.

  Even though he was released early for time served and good behavior, I have a nagging feeling he’s fallen back into the lifestyle—the very one that landed him in the joint in the first place.

  I settle into my usual routine, checking on the customers, chitchatting with the regulars about life, sports, and all the juicy neighborhood gossip. Hours pass and Vinnie’s still MIA, but the bar is slammed and selling out of liquor at twice the rate as usual.

  Michelle follows me into the back room and collapses onto a crate of vodka. “You look like shit,” she tells me point-blank as I pull down a bottle of tequila from the top shelf.

  “Thanks.” I give her a fake smile, knowing I feel like shit too.

  “Let’s go out tomorrow. You need some fun in your life. You’ve been sulking for a month, and I can’t take much more.”

  “I have plenty of fun in my life, and for your information, I have not been sulking.”

  “Sure.” She cackles. “You’re a party animal,” she says, picking at her fingernails and twisting her lips.

  “I have plenty of fun,” I repeat, feeling defensive. “We have to work.”

  “Working doesn’t mean fun. Come out with me, and I’ll show you what fun really means.” She challenges me because she knows I won’t back down. “Vinnie can fill in.”

  I walked right into that one, but Vinnie will be my saving grace. “Fine. I’m game.” My stomach churns even thinking about the killer hangover I’ll have from this night of fun she’s talking about.

  She rubs her hands together and smiles. “I know just what we’re doing too. We’re going to find you a piece of ass so you forget all about Leo.”

  I blanch, not looking for a random hookup. “I don’t need ass, and I forgot about him a long time ago.”

  She purses her lips. “You definitely need a guy, and you’re not fooling anyone. You’ve been sour since the day you ended things with him.”

  I wave my hands in the air, showing my surrender, and walk into the hallway, leaving her behind. I’m not even five feet away when Michelle’s hand lands on the fleshy part of my ass.

  I yelp and glare at her over my shoulder.

  “Yeah, you need some bad.” She laughs.

  “Vinnie!” Angelo yells across the bar when boy wonder walks in just as I walk out of the hallway from the back room.

  Vinnie waves, looking so much like my father it’s scary. He doesn’t shake hands like Santino, but he sure has the look of importance down like he’s waving to his adoring fans.

  People in the bar start to murmur about the kid who went to Ignatius Prep and helped bring home a state championship in football for the neighborhood. Now every Saturday during college football season, the only thing on at the bar is Vinnie’s football game. We have a viewing party and cheer him on as he runs downfield, carrying the ball toward the end zone like the cops are chasing his ass.

  My mom runs right to Vinnie. “Oh, my baby.” She holds his face in her hands before she starts to pepper him with kisses much the same way I did. “You look so good.” She’s gushing over him.

  Vinnie turns beet red, but he stays still and lets her embarrass him. “I’ve missed you, Ma.”

  “Let me look at you,” she tells him and backs up a bit, leaving her hands cupping his cheeks. “You’re looking good, kid.”

  “I’ve been working out.” And right on cue, he flexes like the meathead he always has been and probably always will be.

  She tries to wrap
her hands around his biceps for a second, sticking her tongue out like she’s doing something impossible. “I can tell. I can’t even touch my fingertips around these guns.”

  “Ma, you haven’t been able to do that since I was twelve.”

  “Finally. Ready to work?” I ask him, saving him before she does something else to embarrass him.

  He glances at me out of the corner of his eye. “If I must,” he says, always being whiny when it comes to anything that resembles manual labor.

  “The last time I checked, you are still part owner of this place too.”

  “I’m the hook,” he says with his chin raised and filled with cockiness. “The rest of you are the hustle.”

  “Whatever.” I grab a towel off the counter before tossing it at him.

  It smacks him in the side of the face. “Thanks,” he mumbles behind the rag before peeling it away. “I’m more of a bartender, though.”

  “Wash the tables,” I tell him and motion around the bar. “There’s a lot of dirt to clean up around here.”

  He walks up to me and drops his voice, “Where are all the hot women?”

  “Slumming it elsewhere.”

  “Fuck,” he hisses. “I was hoping to have a little fun this weekend.”

  “Oh, I’m sure some trashy bimbo will walk in here at some point. Word’s already spreading that you’re here.”

  He pulls his phone from his pocket and makes flirty faces into the screen, practicing. “Maybe this will bring the girls to the yard.”

  My brother’s ego has grown almost as big as his large Gallo head. “Don’t worry, pretty boy. You look perfect. Not even a hair out of place.”

  He ignores me and talks into the camera. “Hey, ladies. I’m back in town and down at my bar, Hook & Hustle. Come on over and see me tonight. If you’re lucky, I may even do some push-ups.” He winks before pressing a few buttons.

  “You’re unbelievable,” I mutter.

  “That’s what she said.” He laughs.

  I just shake my head and walk away.

  12

  Daphne