I smiled, and as he lit the cigarette, I puffed slowly so I didn’t cough and come off as a rookie once again.
“Something funny?”
A soft laugh escaped me. “Yeah. You.”
With a pensive stare, he pulled the cigarette from my lips, brought it to his own, and inhaled.
I tilted my head, regarding him. “So, can I call you my fratello now?” I didn’t know why I’d said it, but it had just slipped through my lips as easily as air. Nicotine ran through my veins and lightened my tongue.
He looked at me, blowing out a breath of smoke above my head. We were standing so close his sleeve touched my arm. So close his presence obliterated mine. And there was nothing that felt familial about it.
He handed me the cigarette. “No.” It was a hard no, not one you debated with.
“Why not? You will be.”
His jaw ticked. “I’ll be your cognato, not your brother.”
“Same thing, really. You already have the controlling brotherly act down.”
His expression told me he wasn’t amused and he wasn’t going to participate in this conversation.
“You can call me your sorella. Maybe a sibling is what you need to realize the world doesn’t revolve around you.”
He let out a breath of amusement, but it sounded like he wanted to choke me. “Smoke your cigarette and shut up.”
I turned around to hide the ridiculous warmth that rushed to my cheeks and walked a few steps from him. The soft clicks of my heels in tune with the saxophone’s lilt was hypnotic. The nicotine must have been mixing with the alcohol in my system. Or maybe I was just drunk on his presence.
Spinning around, I leveled my gaze on him. “You don’t have to babysit me, you know. I don’t usually get assaulted twice in one weekend.”
He leaned against the back door, his gaze sparking with sarcasm. “Just once, then?”
“Just once,” I repeated, a smile pulling on my lips.
“I’m not your babysitter.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
His expression darkened around the edges. I didn’t know why I was practically poking him with a stick, but the filter that was usually in place had drifted away with the last saxophone note.
His tone was rough and dry. “Keep opening your mouth, I’ll assault you.”
I didn’t believe he meant the sexual variety, though that’s how I regrettably decided to take it. I brought the cigarette to my lips and inhaled. His gaze met mine through a breath of smoke.
“I’ll be sure to tell my next attacker that only my cognato gets to assault me.” Somehow, a suggestive nature filled the alleyway so heavily a passerby couldn’t miss it. My expression was thoughtful, though my heartbeat played the conga in my chest. “I’m sure you’re running out of ways to ruin men’s lives, anyway.”
“It’s called a repertoire, Elena. They can be used again.”
“Hmm. And what’s next on the list?”
“Who’s being assaulted?” His voice was bland, like we were talking about the weather for the third time.
I lifted a shoulder. “Me.”
His gaze went cold, but his tone stayed impassive. “The entertainment for tonight would be watching him bleed out.”
Nothing about his expression told me he was exaggerating. “Well, it wouldn’t be a normal evening with you around if there wasn’t some blood involved.” I paused. “Though, I guess you did all right at our last supper.”
The smallest yet darkest smile pulled on his lips. “Guess I did.”