Page 17 of Never Say Never

"Fine." York gave in and rattled off his address.

I had it plugged in and smiled at the fact I was only twenty minutes away.

"Be there in fifteen."

"Okay." York hung up, and I turned the car around.

I was slowly inching my way in. A part of me felt guilty, but it was beaten away instantly when I remembered how the world saw the Vitales. We were nothing more than criminals and low lives meant for two things. Imprisonment and death. Joke was on them. We made the world ours. My brothers and I clawed our way from mid-tier to the top. And I'd be damned if I was the reason why we fell.

"Sorry." York buckled up and stared at me from my passenger seat. His large frame filled out the cream colored shirt. The top buttons were undone, leaving his dark brown skin exposed. My mouth instantly salivated, wanting nothing more than to run my tongue over every exposed piece of flesh.

"Huh?" I asked, completely missing what he said.

York huffed out a laugh, his chest rose with the sound driving me crazier. "I never thought I'd have to say this. But my eyes are up here."

"Yeah, but where I'm looking is good too."

"Paul." He snapped his fingers at me, and I reluctantly looked up. I really shouldn't say reluctantly when York was incredibly handsome. From his groomed facial hair that was pitch black to his round eyes framed by thick lashes.

"You look good."

"Thank you." York's gaze was swift but I didn't miss the desire in them. "You too."

I pulled away from the curb. His building was a lot nicer than mine. I committed the address to memory. Even if I was never invited over, I'd have it.

"What are you in the mood for?" I asked.

"Italian."

"Good choice." I tried not to let it come through my voice how close he was to getting more Italian than he could ever ask for. I plugged in one of my favorite Italian restaurants into the GPS.

Lucciola was one of the best in Manhattan, and getting reservations on a short notice would be impossible for Paul Gallo, but a Vitale? There was no such problem. I sent a quick message to cash in an old favor and our names were placed on the list. I found parking a block away but it wasn't so cold that it would be a bother to walk.

We got out of the car, and instantly, I was hit with the feeling of eyes on me. My skin crawled like a bunch of cockroaches ran over it. York stiffened next to me as I made my way to the sidewalk.

I wasn't going to bring it up, but I could tell I wasn't the only one feeling it. "See anyone?"

York glanced at me before forcing himself to relax. "No. You?"

"Nope."

"Have a vengeful ex looking for you?"

That would be the easy answer, but I wasn't getting that feeling. If there was one thing I lived by, it was my instincts. I trusted them explicitly.

"I don't have exes."

"Then what do you call the people you've broken up with?"

"Never had to do that either. The moment people get even a whiff of me being serious, they are on the next plane out of New York."

York laughed but I was being serious. I joined in anyway, knowing he'd never really understand what kind of man I truly was. Paul was probably the nice guy, the one who flirted too much but would love sweetly once given the chance. I was nothing like that. I would possess and own every inch of my person. I'd want it so they couldn't breathe without me.

I quickly glanced around, but there was no one in sight. The overwhelming feeling dissipated the closer we got to the restaurant, leaving me even more confused.

"Could be your ex or a baby mom,” I teased.

York stiffened next to me again, and I knew for sure it had nothing to do with being watched. His stride slowed down and he avoided my gaze.