Page 14 of Wicked Truths

He’s moodier and more serious than he was two years ago. He’s changed, but being best friends with my brother after a break up like we had is bound to change him. Especially since my dad now owns the hockey team he works for and the apartment building he lives in.

It’s like a constant reminder of what we had. For a few moments, I let myself feel sad for him.

For the life I ran away from.

For the future we could have had.

I stand in his living room, staring at his blank walls and wonder how different life would have been if I stayed.

Would we be married? Would I be a mother by now? Would my family have accepted him and brought him in on the mafia side of things?

So many questions, and still no answers.

“How about some shrimp linguine with a white wine sauce?”

My stomach growls. “That sounds amazing, as long as I can drink some of that wine.”

He holds up a bottle of wine. “This is cooking wine. It’s not good drinking wine, but I think I might have a bottle somewhere in the pantry.”

Mandy and I must have spoiled each other because we always had cold wine on hand, and we always drank it together.

Flunked a test? We drank wine and bitched about the class.

Bad break up? A bottle of wine helped get over the loser.

Wine was a way for us to bond together.

“Who doesn’t have chilled wine?” I mumble to myself before adding, “Let me guess, you have a fridge full of beer, though?”

“Yep. Do you want one?” He doesn’t turn around to look at me.

“Sure. It’s better than nothing.”

He reaches into the refrigerator and pulls out two beers. After removing the bottle caps, he hands me a bottle.

I need it to steel my nerves. Being here with Rhett, in his place, is causing old feelings to erupt inside of me, except it’s more. My body craves him more than it ever did.

It’s not that I didn’t love him and want him years ago, but now?

Whew.

I tip my bottle back and drink half of it in one swallow.

Something about him calls to me, and it’s not the familiarity between us. He’s changed. He’s hotter, darker, and more dangerous.

Gone is his playful attitude, even though it tries to poke through every now and then. He’s more serious and mature, like he could be a part of my world. My family’s world.

The mafia world.

This is what I’ve wanted for years now. A dark and mysterious man with a hint of danger that can fit into my world but also drive me crazy in bed.

My chest rises and falls rapidly as my breathing struggles to keep up. I shouldn’t be in Rhett Montgomery’s apartment. I should be in my own apartment, or at Dad’s house.

I shouldn’t want to wrap myself all around him, or pull him into his bedroom and beg him to forgive me and take me back.

My eyes bore into his back, watching his every move as he pulls a box of pasta out of the pantry and grabs a bag of frozen shrimp out of the freezer. He dumps the shrimp into a metal strainer and thaws them under a stream of cold water.

The way he moves around the kitchen is as flawless as the way he moves on the ice. His muscles ripple as he pulls out pots and pans, placing them on his stove.