heat between my legs. This moment right here feels dangerous and full of wicked possibility.
It’s high time for me to go.
“It was nice bumping into you, Sonny.” I move to walk away, but Santino steps out to stop me.
His hand gently touches my forearm, and the contact feels like a thousand pins and needles erupting all over my flesh. “So that’s it then?” he asks, his face full of question.
“What else did you expect?” Licking my lips, I try to ignore the jitters vibrating in my nervous system as I force myself to look up at him. I’m trying to come off cool and confident, but his square jaw is peppered with dark, freshly shaved stubble, and I have a horrifying urge to feel it slide across my breasts.
His eyes search mine. “I thought maybe you and I could catch up. Have dinner or something?”
“No dates, remember?” I respond jokingly, feeling desperate to get away from him and the incessant flashbacks in my stupid head. “That was rule number two, wasn’t it?”
Santino jerks back as if I’ve just slapped him. “Tilly, that’s not at all what I meant.”
“You didn’t hope this could be a wee reunion for the two of us?” Lifting my brows, I hit him with a forced smile. “There was no moment when you thought we could get drunk and be each other’s late-night booty calls again?”
“Christ, no,” he exclaims, his eyes filling with horror.
Even though I didn’t want him to want me in the first place, his rejection wounds me. I want not to want him, and the fact he causes my body to inwardly convulse right now is really fucking inconvenient. I swallow nervously and try to think of something to say, but my bravado is faltering.
He must see my discomfort because he steps closer and says softly, “I just thought we could catch up as two old friends.”
“We weren’t truly friends, though, were we?” I reply crisply, my eyes darting over to my brother who looks like he’s going to come tearing over here any second. “We were party mates at best. Let’s not make it more than it was.”
A deep grumble comes from Santino’s chest, and I swear he visibly grows as he glowers down at me. “I was trying to be a friend at the end.”
Chills rush down my body as memories of my past try to trickle in with his words. But these are memories I want nothing to do with anymore. They are memories I’ve blocked out. And for good reason.
I inhale a cleansing breath and step closer to him, my eyes narrowed with determination. “You may think you were, Santino, but that wasn’t what I needed back then. Which is why it’s best if we keep the past in the past and steer clear of each other while I’m here.”
He blinks back at me in confusion as his eyes rove over my entire face, inspecting it for some sort of clue. When his gaze dips to my lips, I feel my chin rise ever so slightly like our mouths are two magnets pulling towards each other. Flutters erupt in my belly that I haven’t felt in ages, and all of it, every single tiny tickle, pisses me off.
I’m stronger than this.
His voice is low when he replies, “Take care, Trouble.”
Santino pulls back, and I take the opportunity to quickly walk away as fast as this dress will allow me. Even if Santino thinks he was trying to be a friend in my past, that doesn’t mean he’s someone I can trust with my present.
The auction portion of the evening begins, and I feel complete and utter relief when I see that our table is far, far away from Santino. I need space. And perhaps a cold shower. What the hell was that back at the bar? Sexual tension? A quarrel? Both? Either way, I need to stay firm in my decision to stay far, far away from him. Getting mixed up with Santino and everything he represents as one of London’s premier manwhores isn’t at all what I need in life.
I do my best to ignore all thoughts of Santino and focus on the announcer as he lists off the auction items up for bid. Looking around this lot, it’s obvious this group has a lot of money because the bidding ratchets up to a price point that has my jaw nearly hitting the floor. Santino fits right in, I’m sure.
Mac and I didn’t grow up wealthy by any