I grab her hand and lead her into the house. Not letting go, I lock the door and take her to the couch. I sit down and pull her onto my lap. She stiffens and avoids my eyes.
“Your dad is Dominick Morretti.”
Dropping her forehead, she simply nods.
I take a deep breath and look to the ceiling. “I know him, Raven. I know your dad—”
“He’s not my dad.” Her harsh glare locks on mine before her expression softens. “I mean he’s my biological father, but he’s not my dad. I don’t have a dad.”
I pull her to me, and she nestles into my chest, her arms wrap around my waist.
“Well, whatever he is to you, he’s no good. I don’t want you around him.”
She laughs humorlessly. “You don’t have to worry about that. He hasn’t wanted anything to do with me in twenty years. I doubt he ever will. I’m pretty sure whatever happened between him and my mom was a mistake . . . you know, me.” Her final words are barely audible as her voice is muffled in my chest.
Anger pushes its way through my concern for her. I place my hand under chin and force her eyes to mine. “I can’t see your life ever being considered a mistake.”
Her sad smile rips through me.
“My parents never had a relationship that I know of. I’m not close to my mom, so she’s never told me, but it’s pretty obvious they have nothing beyond, um, a professional relationship.”
Her bright eyes look away for a second as she blows a piece of long hair from her face. “Anyway, can we talk about something else now?”
Her full lips lift into a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. I’m left with a million questions tumbling in my head, but I don’t want to ruin the night by bringing up painful memories of her past.
“Yes, we can.” I stare at her lips, hungry to taste them again. But there’s one thing I need to say before I can put this subject to bed. “Promise me you’ll stay away from Dominick Morretti.”
“That, I can promise.” Her eyes move down my face and settle on my mouth.
I shove both hands into her hair and bring her lips to mine. She eagerly complies, wrapping her hands behind my neck and holding me close to her. She tilts her head and our tongues slide together. Her body shifts on my lap and I moan my approval. Just days ago I thought I could walk away from her. And now, I don’t want to spend one night without her.
*
Raven
The marble flooring is cool under my bare feet as I stand, looking at myself in Jonah’s bathroom mirror. Something’s different. I can’t put my finger on what it is, but I know I’ve never been able to see my molars before when I smile. I have a serious case of the perma-grins.
I look down at the cotton t-shirt and sweat pants lying folded in my hands. It hits me again, with no less intensity than before, that I’m spending the night with Jonah Slade. Now my cheeks actually hurt.
Checking out his dark brown, granite counter top with double sinks and mahogany cabinetry, curiosity pushes at me. I question whether or not to snoop in his medicine cabinet. I chew on my lip, staring at the mysterious mirrored door. Just one peek won’t hurt.
I cautiously pull open the door as if something might jump out at me: deodorant, shaving cream, razor, all the typical man stuff. Grabbing his cologne, I press it to my nose and take a deep breath. My eyes almost roll back in my head at the woodsy smell that his skin has hinted at before. He never smells coated in fragrance, more like an underlying flavor that runs beneath his natural scent.
Snooping complete, I move to close the door when a gray box catches my eye. I squint and lean forward to read the label: condoms. Wow, extra-large, lubricated, jumbo pack. I slam the door shut and stare at my reflection.
“Well, what did you think you would find?” I hiss to myself. “You know his reputation.” I stand back and shrug. “You need to tell him.”
Hey Jonah, guess what? Now that you know my mom’s a hooker and my dad’s a pimp, I have one more bomb to drop on you. The V-bomb. Surely if he can look past the first two bombs that last one should be no big deal. It’s not as if I’m not open to eliminating the issue. Candy’s words come flooding back. Stupid little girl.
I push the feelings of unworthiness to the back of my brain and head for the shower. Stripping down, I hear my inner fourteen-year-old fan-girl screaming, You’re naked in Jonah Slade’s bathroom! Squee! She’s not wrong, I think while covering my mouth to stifle my laughter.