"Does that make taking her life right? Or my right?" I pinched the bridge of my nose. "It's late. We should probably go to bed."
Andi gripped my hands then lifted herself onto my lap, straddling me for the second time that night. "What are you afraid of?"
"You sure get deep when you drink vodka." I tried ignoring her question; confession time was over.
"Italy…" she warned, kissing both cheeks, "tell me."
I sighed and hung my head. "Then bed?"
"Show me yours, I'll show you mine…"
I blew out air between my cheeks. "I'm afraid that one day I'll stop being afraid. And that's the truth."
"Fear makes it real."
"Fear makes me real." Shrugging, I tried to explain. "It means I'm still human. The minute you stop feeling fear…"
"You turn into a sociopath." She winked. Leave it to Andi to add in some humor to my morose thoughts.
"Right." I chuckled.
"Bed?" She tilted her head.
"Not so fast." I gripped her hips. "What's your fear?"
"You mean other than the dark?" she whispered, the heat of her tongue colliding with my neck, making me want to maul her against the floor.
"Yeah." My breathing slowed in anticipation of what she would say.
"Leaving behind my new best friend — before he has time to realize how much he has to offer the world."
"Best friend?"
"You, silly. Who else do I honor with my presence?"
"We barely know each other."
"Kindred spirits recognize each other. Deny it all you want, but I'm kind of a big deal to you… and I'll continue to be like your lobster, that is, until this love affair ends like a tragic play, and you have to bury me. Oh, and PS, when we do discuss burials, not on a day like today because you're already depressed, can you bury me in white?"
"What the hell, Andi?" I tried to shove her off me, but her damn thighs clenched around my body so tight I could have stood and she'd still be clutching me like a freaking koala. "That's not funny."
"Am I laughing?" She shrugged. "It's only fair that I get a say in what I get buried in. Don't worry, I'll write things down."
I let out a pitiful groan.
"Okay, bestie." She stood and offered her hand. "Take me to bed and ravish me."
"What?" I croaked.
She rolled her eyes. "Please. We have it written down fifteen times. You better at least take me up on it once."
"And if I don't?"
She leaned down and licked her lips invitingly. "Then I'll doubt your sexuality."
"The hell you will!" I roared, jumping to my feet and pulling her flush against my body, nearly sending us sailing backward into the chair.
My kiss was aggressive, possibly furious, and not just because of her taunting, but because she'd just scared the shit out of me. I'd almost lost the ability to breathe when she started talking about being buried. How could she be so calm?
And how was it possible she was turning my life completely upside down, all within a short week? She was ruining every single wall I had erected, making me want to run in the opposite direction for fear that if I stopped, she'd catch up, she'd catch me, and I'd be left to mourn the most precious thing that's ever been given to me.
"Kiss me," she mouthed against my lips.
So I did.
"Touch me," she urged, rocking her body against mine.
So I did.
"Take me…"
"Andi…"
"Take me…" she pleaded, her hands moving to my head, tugging my hair with ferocity.
I jerked back and looked into her pleading eyes.
And I knew in that moment…
I would.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Andi
HE WAS MARKING ME, HIS FINGERTIPS burning into my wrists as he pressed a hot kiss to my neck then released my arms and took a step back. I'd drunk enough to know it was probably a bad idea to push a guy like Sergio.
The term healthy fear rang true in my brain. He was dangerous, and he knew it. I knew it from the dead look in his eyes.
He'd seen too much.
Done even more.
And wasn't so sure he wanted to live to tell about it. I could feel it in the air around him — he wasn't the type of guy you pushed. Sure, I teased him, and, yeah, my body responded to him like he'd been made for me.
I let him have his timeout.
Second thoughts were evident in the way he glanced at me then back down at the ground, like he wasn't sure what to do with me. Like I was a puzzle he couldn't quite figure out. Then again, I don't think my puzzle pieces were ever meant to fit perfectly together.
"Sergio…" I held out my hand. "…let's go upstairs."
He swore and ran his hands through his hair, turning around then facing me again. "Would you believe me if I said I've developed a conscience?"
"After showing me your tattoos?" My eyebrows shot up. "Probably not."
"I'm not that guy."
"What guy?"
"That one…" His eyes turned angry, the blue freezing me on the spot. "I don't make love to girls. I don't do slow. I don't care as long as I get off. I. Don't. Care."
"Ringing endorsement for your sexual prowess." I smirked and leaned against the wall, suddenly exhausted. "Are you warning me away?"