be caught ogling him. Control the friggin hormones, girl.
"I was five," he said, his voice quiet. "My shirt caught on fire."
Gabriella met his gaze. "What?"
"Car blew up. I was close to the blast. That's how my chest got all fucked up."
She frowned. He thought she was reacting to his scars. "I wasn't… you know… and I actually knew that. I know what happened."
"Of course," he said. "You live like a block from there."
"I didn't live here then," she said. "I grew up in Jersey, but something like that… word travels. They said you were lucky to survive."
"I'm not lucky." He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees, his face mere inches from hers. "I almost died. I should've died. But I didn't. I survived because I'd been busy that night looking out for my little sister. That's all I ever did... look after her. But here I am, years later, with nobody to look after. Doesn't get much more unlucky, does it?"
Gabriella didn't know what to say. She had so much she wanted to say, so much she wished she could tell him, but her voice didn't seem to work. Maybe it was fear that silenced her, or maybe it was self-preservation, but when her lips parted, all she could do was exhale.
Dante's eyes scanned her face, like he was seeking the answer to his question, before his gaze settled on her mouth, like maybe he thought he'd find what he really wanted there. Gabriella's breath hitched as he licked his dry lips, inching closer so slowly she wasn't sure he was actually moving.
Was she imagining it?
But then he tilted his head, and Gabriella's heart raced. Her hands trembled in her lap, her fingertips tingling with the urge to do something. Push him away. Pull him closer. She wasn't sure which, because both options were horrifying. This shouldn't be happening, but geez, how something inside of her wished it would. He shouldn't even be there. She shouldn't have let him in. But there he sat, just a breath away from her.
The bad, bad boy with the horrible reputation. When she looked at him, she saw a broken man who couldn't heal from all of his wounds. His pieces no longer fit together like they should. She could close the gashes in his body, but what about the gaping holes in his soul?
Dante inhaled deeply as Gabriella's eyes fluttered closed. Her hands clenched into fists to keep them from shaking, and she tiled her head to match his. He was so close she felt his warmth and tasted his breath on her tongue. She waited for him to kiss her, wondering if his lips would be soft, but seconds passed with nothing happening until she heard his voice. "Do you smell that?"
Her eyes opened right away. The tips of their noses nearly touched. "What?"
His eyes narrowed as he pulled back. "It smells like something's burning."
Something's burning. "Oh crap!"
Gabriella jumped up, nearly falling over his legs as she darted for the kitchen. The closer she got, the stronger the smell grew, assaulting her nostrils. Grabbing potholders, she yanked the oven door open, a blast of smoke slamming her right in the face.
She gagged, fanning it away, as she grabbed the pan, tossing it on top of the stove. The smoke detector across the room screeched, a little too late to be of any help. She turned the oven off, slamming the door closed.
"Un-friggin-believable," she muttered, tossing the potholders down on the counter near her phone. She'd been so distracted by Dante that she'd forgotten she had food cooking.
Annoyed, she spun around, about to dismember the offensive smoke detector, when she slammed right into something in her path. Gasping, she stepped back, stunned to be face-to-face with Dante, having not heard him follow. She stammered, unable to get a word out, when he cradled her face with his large hands, his thumbs stroking her flushed cheeks as he stared into her eyes. It was only a few seconds, but it felt like a lifetime—a lifetime of anticipation before he smashed his lips to hers.
The kiss was rough and needy, his mouth moving eagerly as he drank her in. His teeth nipped at her lips, his tongue mingling with hers, as he kissed her like she was the air in his lungs, the blood in his veins. He kissed her like he meant it. He kissed her like she'd never been kissed before. He kissed her until she was breathless, until her knees