“Good at killing people?” he asks softly.
I flinch. Most of the time we skirt around what exactly my father does. And technically Gio is a part of that. I’ve never asked him if he’s killed someone. For all I know, he already has robbed a bank. He’s still in high school, so they’re keeping him light. But once he graduates high school, they’ll want to induct him. I’d almost rather he did leave then. Even though it would kill me to see him go.
He shakes his head. “Anyway, if it were me being groomed, I’d have to marry Honor. And I couldn’t do that.”
The thought of him marrying my sister makes my stomach knot. He’s only a couple years younger than her. It’s actually not a bad idea. “Why not?”
“Because I like her sister.”
I go very still. There’s only one sister. Me.
“What did you say?” I whisper.
“You heard me.” He leans close. He reaches for me—and this time, his hand does cup my cheek. The feel of him is shocking, startling, impossibly coarse and warm at the same time. He runs his thumb along my skin, rasping against me. My eyes flutter closed.
The old leather of the couch creaks as he leans forward. He must be inches away now. His breath coasts over my lips. Goose bumps rise on my skin. I’m waiting…hoping…
Suddenly his lips are against mine, warm and soft. God, I’ve seen those lips smile and twist and curse a blue streak, but I never imagined they could be this soft. Nothing like whiskey, with its fire. This is a gentle heat, a caress, and I sink into him, let myself go lax.
One second later, he’s gone. Not touching me at all.
My eyes snap open. “Gio?”
He looks tormented. I may not have felt the whiskey burn, but he did. Pain flashes through his eyes. He stands and walks away. “No, Clara. That was wrong. I was wrong to do that.”
“But why?” How could that be wrong? That was the best thing that ever happened to me. On a night when I wanted to be bad, I experienced my first kiss. It’s the best bad thing I could have imagined. And it tasted so sweet.
He’s still shaking his head, so vehemently I’m not sure who he’s trying to convince—me or himself. “You’ve been drinking.”
“One drink,” I say, kind of insulted. I may be new to this, but I’m not drunk.
“One drink is enough.”
“You had one drink too,” I point out, accusing.
He laughs, the sound unsteady and harsh. “I’m bigger than you.”
I don’t know if he means the drink affects him less or if it’s just another reason why the kiss was a bad idea—as if he might have overpowered me. But there is no reason why this is a bad idea. I’ve wanted him to kiss me forever. And judging by the way he kissed just now, he liked it too. Unless…
My voice is small. “Did I…do it wrong?”
He lets out a string of curse words. “No, bella. You did nothing wrong. This is me. I can’t touch you when you’ve been drinking. I can’t touch you at all.”
Chapter Two
I groan as light batters my eyelids. There’s sound too. And something heavy pressing down on my head. I flutter my hand in the universal sign for go away. In case that wasn’t clear enough, I add, “Turn off the light.”
“That’s the sun, silly,” my sister says.
I peek one eye open and am totally blinded. If that’s the sun, we must be going through some kind of apocalypse, because it’s a hundred times brighter than I’ve ever seen it. And since when did she speak through a microphone? All I manage to do is whimper.
The bed dips as she sits down next to me. Her hand is cool and dry against my forehead. “Are you sick or something? You don’t look that great.”
“Thanks,” I say wryly and then wince as the word echoes through my head.
Last night comes back to me with a crash. The Jack Daniels. Then the kiss. Then rejection.
Then more Jack Daniels.