“Enzo, I can make you feel good. Just relax, let me take care of you.”
Her words were like a knife to the fucking stomach.
Let me take care of you.
Only one girl had ever whispered that to me… and I’d almost let her.
I’d almost handed her the power to completely ruin me.
Nora Abato.
Fuck.
Just thinking her name gutted me in a way I hadn’t expected.
If my piece of shit father taught me anything, it was that pussy was the enemy. Before you knew what was happening, it lured you in with promises of a good time. You grew attached, you wanted more… you wanted her.
But love didn’t make you strong, it made you weak.
And I had no desire to find myself wifed up like Nicco, risking everything for something as fickle as love.
“Enzo?” Marielle’s shrill voice yanked me back into the moment.
“We’re done here.” I pulled my dick away and tucked him back inside my jeans.
“Done? But we only just—”
“You should go on back into the party.”
“But—”
“Ma sparisci!” I barked and she hurried inside, her gasp of surprise barely thawing the ice around my heart.
I pulled out a smoke and lit it up, dragging in a deep lungful of tobacco. When the back door opened again, I was hardly surprised to find Matteo.
“Thought I’d find you out here,” he said. “What did you do? Your little friend looked pissed.”
“Told her to fuck off mid-blow job.”
“Shit, man,” his chuckle came out thin, “that’s cold, even for you.”
“She was getting clingy.”
“And God forbid anyone try to get close to you, right?”
“Don’t.” I bristled.
“You and Nor—”
“I said don’t.”
I didn’t want to talk about me and Nora, or the way she’d started to soften my hard exterior.
It had been a few good fucks, nothing else.
So what if she was my best friend’s wife’s best friend? I’d done a pretty good job of avoiding her the past few weeks. I was confident I could keep it up. Especially since I had no plans to return to Montague University next week.
Nicco, Matteo, and I had enrolled eighteen months ago to gather intel about Roberto Capizola, the Family’s biggest threat in the last decade. But he was no longer an issue. The job was done, and we didn’t need to keep up pretenses anymore.
I no longer had to tolerate college classes or any of the bullshit that came with being a student.
“Whatever, man. I’m heading back inside. Jonah was just about to break out the snacks.”
“Snacks? Seriously?”
“What? I’m hungry.” He shrugged.
“You’re a fucking idiot. It isn’t any wonder you can’t get regular pussy.”
“Hey, I can get regular pussy. I just choose not to.”
“Don’t tell me you’re going to pull a Nicco on me?” It was bad enough I’d lost one best friend to a woman; I didn’t need to lose Matteo too.
“Ah, don’t worry, cous. Even if I did meet the woman of my dreams, I’d never abandon your cranky ass.”
I flipped him off, shouldering past him to go inside. Tension rippled through me and since Marielle had ruined what could have been a perfectly good blow job, I’d have to settle for finding peace at the bottom of a bottle of expensive scotch.
Something strong enough to drown out the demons.
Chapter 2
Nora
There was something inspiring about the first day of a brand new year. It wasn’t so much any one thing, it was the possibilities. The ifs, whats, and maybes.
Being a college freshman, I might have expected to wake up this morning with a killer headache and last night’s makeup smeared across my face. As it was, I felt as fresh as a daisy and my skin was silky smooth thanks to the nourishing mask I’d applied last night.
There was something to be said for staying in on New Year’s Eve.
“Nora,” my mom called. “Breakfast.”
My stomach grumbled at the mention of food, and I smiled to myself. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one happy that I didn’t feel hungover.
Pushing the covers off my body, I sat up and swung my legs over the side of my bed, taming my wild curls out of my face. Hangover or no hangover I never escaped a bad case of bed hair.
A yawn escaped my lips as I leaned over and snatched up my cell phone, checking for messages. I smiled at the two from my best friend Arianne. The first was a picture of her and her husband, Nicco as they posed in front of Times Square. The second was a message.
Happy New Year, Nora. You’re the best friend a girl could