Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.

Beta'd by HollettLA.


Chapter Seven

Maggie POV

As time ticked by, I've started to feel worse about the night I met Damion.

And being in this position proved my most recent thoughts true about Damion Cullen.

Okay, so being snubbed in disdain was painful.

But having my blinders off, I could see much, much more. There's a darkness surrounding him, almost as if he's extremely troubled or…shady? It's a gut instinct, and my gut's usually wrong anyway, but this situation might prove it right.

As of recent, he's become eerie and kind of sinister to me; meanwhile, six weeks ago, I wanted to run off into the sunset with him.

"You promise not to run away?"

I wasn't sure if I could promise such a thing.

That's what I do, scurry away like a mouse, no matter how scary, sad, or weird the reason is.

This was a time to be strong, though, stand my ground—knee him in the balls if I had to, like people do in the movies.

Damion moved farther away. "I'm not gonna hurt you…I swear."

"Good." I stared down to my shoes and placed my shaking hands under my armpits, reminding myself to be strong—act like a normal person and not a rodent that had no spine. "Just…say whatever." I almost swallowed my tongue. "No, you better…hurry up before I get mad!" Hoping my threat wasn't taken lightly; I squared my shoulders to look into his mirthful eyes.

"Oh, shit." Damion put his hands up in mock surrender. "I'll definitely hurry it along now—don't want'chu gettin' mad and scary."

Steeling my nerves, I nodded. "That's right, scary." I poked his chest as hard as I could, which…really, really hurt my finger.

"You okay?" He reached for my hand.

"Just get to talkin'!" I shouted, balling my hands into fists and stiffening, becoming genuinely angry. "You said you liked me and then treated me like my body was covered in green scales!" Yelling felt amazing in this moment. "You confused me—"

"Shhh. Jesus. Be quiet." He placed his finger to his mouth.

"—you blatantly ignored me for over a month. A month, and now this? And who the heck are you? You're nothin' like the guy I remember!" I relaxed a little, taking a deep breath. "And this…seriously, what the hell is this? And what the hell's wrong with you?" Failing miserably by the second, I tried to hold on to my boldness.

"Unfortunately, the guy you met that night…I don't know where he is. I was hoping, somehow, you'd help me find him." He reached for my hand again.

"What does that even mean?" I asked, backing into the wall again. He hadn't advanced, but I was afraid he would.

Damion grinned and then his face fell. "Would it be easier to believe that I'm… Actually, I'm Damion's evil twin." He nodded. "My name's Masen and I have Dame locked in a soundproof room in the basement…chained to a radiator. I've had everyone fooled for weeks…everyone."

"That's not even funny," I said. "And I'm young but I'm not stupid." In this moment, I didn't know if he was joking, or…I wasn't sure.

"I don't think you're stupid. Not at all." He looked sad now.

No longer pushy or scary, a sadness filled his eyes. It was plain as day, placed a pit of pity in my stomach, a lump in my throat. "Are you okay?" I asked, barely above a whisper.

He shrugged his shoulders, holding his head. "Gimme a sec to get my words right—I need to explain."

"Look, I dunno what's going on." I glanced out to the street, and in the distance, I saw a very-pregnant blonde walk into Santino's building. That must be his Katie, the mother of his baby. Feeling insignificant, a feeling I'm fairly used to, I looked back to Damion. "If you're in trouble or you need help…" Having no idea how I could help him, I knew who could. "Santino—"

"Oh, fuck him!" he laughed, suddenly humorous again.

"He loves and cares for you very much—"

"The only person Sonny cares about is Sonny. It'd seriously do you some good to learn that from now." He kicked the opposite wall.

I placed my hand on his forearm. "Don't get upset. Your Dad—"

"My father—that man fuckin' hates me." He found that funny, too.

"I don't believe that." I really didn't, nor did I believe what he'd said about Santino not caring for him. "It's obvious there's something wrong—"

"No…" He took a deep breath. "I'm fine, perfect even…school's going well and I'm making some steady money doin' this and that. I have a beautiful woman to warm my bed who's New Jersey royalty." He'd been counting off his fingers and stopped to meet my eyes. "Eh…you met Amelia. Truthfully, she's more of a guinea brat, but she loves me—and she's a doormat nonetheless, which means I could probably do whatever I wanted on the side, including you." He touched my cheek.

"No!" I disagreed.

"—and I might love her," he continued as if I hadn't spoken. "At least, I thought I did." He chuckled, pressing his closed fingers to his eyes, making his glasses rise.

"If you don't love her and you're already planning a life of adultery…" The last twenty minutes were more upsetting than the past month altogether. "I…don't think people aspire to be adulterers." And I also felt too young, too inexperienced to hold this odd conversation. "If there's something wrong, you should talk to someone, anyone you can trust, or—"

"I am." He rasped.

"Oh." I folded my arms across my chest.

"No, I do...love Amelia. I fell pretty hard and fast, and I…only just came up for air, started having doubts a few days ago." Damion nodded. "Either way, we'll probably get married. She'll become some dishrag-clutching Betty Crocker, pregnant and in my kitchen but wearing Jimmy Choos. That's what every man wants." Damion stared at the ground. "Again, I'm perfect. I just might be an asshole—plain and simple. Does it sound like there's something wrong?"

I furrowed my brow, knowing one thing to be true. "You don't sound happy."

"Ugh..." He glanced at his watch and then heavenward. "Christ…I've got so much to say to you."

Unsure of what craziness would come out of his mouth next, I gestured he continue. I didn't think myself appropriate for the conversation because I didn't know how…I could ever help him. But if all he needed was someone to listen…? I could definitely do that. If it helped him even in the slightest bit, at least it'd take one trouble away—make him feel lighter.

"This is serious and it's also the ab-so-lute truth." He placed his hands on my shoulders. "The night we met, Maggie, I enjoyed myself very much. Too much. I dug your company, you, and you're gorgeous. I don't have 20/20 vision—" he pushed his glasses up "—but I'm not blind. At first, I thought you were at least the legal age to drink."

"I'm sorry for not informing you that I wasn't." Drinking hadn't helped the situation that night, as a lot of aspects of that evening are still fuzzy—I can't make proper sense of them.

Damion smiled. "It's cool. I'm sorry for crossing as many lines as I did." He raked his hand through his hair. "I also can't tell you how many times I've paced outside your house, wondering which window was yours. I wanted to contact you again; you seemed to always be on my mind, but I knew better. I knew you…deserved so much more than I could ever give you. You were perfect, you still are, and I would've ruined that...like I ruin everything. You're just—" he touched my chin "—and seeing you with him…?" His voice started to rise. "If you did what you did to get my attention, you really didn't have to do that. You've had it for over a month now. I was…just trying to do the right thing by staying away from you."

"I didn't," I said. "Your brother being my date—Damion, that wasn't even my idea. It wasn't my intention to…get your attention with Santino. But I'll admit to…the costume," I mumbled that last part.

"What?" He cupped his ear.

I felt my face flush. "I thought if I looked…sexy, more grown up, you'd see me, realize that I existed, wasn't invisible. You were ignoring me, treating me as though we'd never met before, and that bothered me a lot. But that's because I'd taken the night we met too seriously, and I thought we were friends... And doing what I did with Santino, going to…the hotel with him, that had nothing to do with you either."

Damion nodded. "Oh…okay." He palmed his stomach, an unreadable expression on his face.

While I waited for him to continue, I tried not to look at him. I still felt out of place. I wanted to get back to work, but doing that would be selfish. And I said I'd listen. "Amelia is…she's really pretty, and she loves you." I wanted to say something positive. "She seems nice, too… I didn't get to talk to her a lot, so I'm sorry to sound superficial." I might have been rambling now. "Um, you guys fell in love…what was that like?" I peeked at him, and the side of his mouth pulled into a small smile. "What…does love, falling in love feel like?"

Damion's smile reached his eyes now. "Hmm. I guess…" He furrowed his brow. "It's…the happiest, the most confusing, and possibly the most excruciating feeling in the world…known to man. All of that balled into one giant clusterfuck is what falling in love feels like." He chuckled, almost resembling a boy.

I giggled, smoothing my skirt down, eyes on my shoes.

"The confusion and subsequent pain…that's from self-doubt, I'd say." He glanced at me. "You never know if the other person will return your feelings, and not knowing can be torturous…I guess that's why they call it falling, though. You can either—" he clapped once "—SPLAT! Hit the pavement, or they'll be there to catch you. Being in love is different. It's lighter and there's no pain, and it's much easier. Every aspect of your life somehow involves the other person because…you…always want them near. Obviously, your life has changed. You went from being single to a pair, and you just share everything. You can't imagine what your life would be like without them. And all you wanna do—you have this overwhelming urge to make them happy. Every touch, every kiss, every smoldering gaze sets you on fire. You're drawn, and you can't get enough, and everything feels good—" He opened and closed his mouth but nothing came out.

I didn't say anything; content to hold my hot cheeks with my cool hands.

"Did I say something to offend you?" he asked. "Something dirty, perhaps?"

I couldn't lift my head. "No."

"Want me to…? Say somethin' dirty?" There was humor in his voice.

"No." I grinned.

"Oh, that means you do." He waved a finger at me.

Giggling, I shook my head no and raised my pointed finger. "I'll—" I burst into guffaws, glad to have caught myself.

Damion was shaking with quiet laughter. "Say it."

I refused, trying like heck to compose myself.

He leaned back against the wall, and he was trying to say something… "Pl-Please." He laughed so hard he snorted.

And I thought my skin was going to melt off my face, my knees bending.

But wicked Damion was back. He was able to control his chuckles and walk out from the dwelling. He'd only gone three feet but cupped his hands around his mouth. "Everybody, this dirty little girl wants to poke me!"

I gasped and ran out after him to slap his back. "What's wrong with you?" I hit him again as he kept laughing, running in a circle on the sidewalk.

Cackling like a hyena, I chased after him but then stopped. Feeling better now, and seeing that he was also smiling—we were acting like jackasses on a busy avenue; no one paid his words any attention—I thought it best I go back to work before I knocked over some old lady.

"Hey…you wanna go to the park?" Damion asked.

I turned to stare at him quizzically, and I didn't expect him to be as close as he was. "I really am working."

He thought that was funny, too. "That place drains more money than it cleans. We both know no one's in there, and no one's gonna fire you."

"I—"

Damion caught up to me, had blocked my path to the salon. "Fort Hamilton Park's just right there, a few blocks away." All the stress that'd seemed to weigh him down earlier had disappeared.

I smiled, truly happy for him. "I'm glad you feel better, but maybe another time? Maybe we could all…hang out?"

He rolled his eyes. "Maybe Sonny'll push me on the swings again."

The mental image of them almost too tall, one pushing the other made me giggle. "I was…thinking more along the lines of including Kylie…maybe Amelia if she was visiting with you. I mean, the park doesn't seem like Santino's thing?" It was hard to ignore how the butterflies ran amok at the sound of his name.

"And you'd know all about Santino's thing…?" His tone was suggestive.

"No…I, um…no." I cringed, thinking back to all my botched attempts at seducing Santino.

I really wanted that thing.

His thing.

Damion cleared his throat, placing his hands in his pockets. "I'll give you a minute to get your filthy mind in order."

My eyes widened, wondering how he'd known.

Then he laughed at me, pointing an accusatory finger.

Like a schoolyard bully, I wanted to beat him again, but I didn't. I'd been able to laugh at myself, at how silly I'd been acting.

A random thought came to mind, though. "No matter how old you guys are…I think Santino would still push you on the swing…if you asked him, if you needed him." Believing the statement, I hoped to show Damion that he was wrong, that Santino isn't selfish. "And…at the end of the day, I think you'd get on the seesaw with him…so he wouldn't be alone."

"I really did it, didn't I?" Damion asked. "I brought up his name, and now you have a one-track mind."

I shook my head to protest, speechless for a second too long.

Eventually, I just turned for the salon. "See ya!" I waved.

He winked, walking backward and lifting a hand.

I just smiled, hoping Mrs. Cullen…

I just had to face the music. I'd been outside for a half hour, possibly longer. And there are actual street sweepers employed by the city… "The broom!" I remembered, sprinting back and then slowing, seeing as Damion had it.

He was standing in that doorway again, and I wondered if he was going to dance with it. Because he wasn't doing the polite thing of meeting me halfway. "You want it…? My magic stick?" He wiggled his brows.

I actually thought it was fascinating. "How'd you do that?" I tried moving my eyebrows like he did, but all I did was blink a bunch of times.

Damion smirked at me, reaching out the handle to lift my skirt with it.

I smacked the fabric down and waved my fist at him. "I'll tell your mom to come get it, and then she can beat you with it," I laughed. "Bam. In your face!" I left him there holding his stick.

"Oh!" Damion shouted.

I ignored him.

The loud, rapid sound of feet hitting the ground made me peek over my shoulder.

"You got jokes now?" Damion's firm arms accosted me, and I'd only been one door away.

"Stop, I really gotta get back—" I hollered out something unintelligible and started laughing.

Damion was tickling my sides, and then my feet were off the ground. I cleared my throat, moving my hair away from my eyes. "What are you—" I was in another awkward embrace, being dragged away. "Oh, no." We were in that same doorway, hidden from sight. "This is ridiculous."

I was surprised no one was curious; no one had come outside to make sure I wasn't kidnapped. Then again, if Mr. Cullen is in there…he's holding his wife's attention, arguing or canoodling, and Kylie would be doing actual work.

"All joking aside, I'm not finished talking to you. I don't know why my father isn't looking for me—hasn't found me." He checked the time and shook his head. "I'm just seizing the opportunity."

I fixed my headband, knowing my head was a mess in more ways than one. "Talk…I need to get back."

"Okay." He nodded. "You…you said you didn't use Sonny to get back at me."

I groaned, couldn't believe we were back to this. "I didn't."

"Whatever your reasons, you should probably stay away from him now—put the whole thing behind yourself." He blew out a breath. "My brother's no good. Whoever hooked you two up was playing a…very cruel joke."

"Right, because God forbid someone likes me and shows it." I felt the tears pooling in my eyes and it was no use; there was no way to stop them. Today was crazy, my emotions running wild, and I hit my boiling point. Frustrated and exasperated, I hated being trapped by Damion—all attempts at escape had failed—and I didn't know what to do.

For the hundredth time, I wished this was a movie, and my prince—my knight—could somehow sense my distress. He'd save me from the clutches of an evildoer, rescue me, and then we'd make love on his horse, or the backseat of an expensive car.

I wanted Santino.

Because…even if everything concerning him was confusing, I felt safe and warm, and I constantly crave his arms, his touch. Being around him made sense—although it doesn't—when the rest of the world I'd always known felt like another planet?

I didn't understand.

I was just me two days ago.

And now…I had no idea.

But I knew Santino had his own, very busy life; he wouldn't be my hero.

"No, don't cry...shit." Damion wiped under my eyes. "You're wonderful, and it really doesn't have anything to do with you. My brother's been hurt real bad. He's looking for something right now…anything that might make himself feel better, to make him happy, and he's already used you for that purpose. My words are gonna sound harsh, Maggie, but…you need to stay away from him."

"Just lemme alone," I sobbed into my hands. "You stay away from me!" Resenting his words, angry, I didn't know why I should believe them, or why I should heed his warning.

"You don't like me? Fine. Let me be your guardian angel in disguise." He cleaned more tears away from my cheeks.

I pushed his hand off my face. "I don't even know what you mean."

"You're a senior in high school, you're going to college…" Damion smiled at me. "It's an exciting time…And I don't see you becoming a nun." He rolled his eyes. "It's a little too much, and I don't think you'd be happy, although you should never let go of your faith."

Knowing his family had a grapevine, I wasn't shocked by his words. "I leave in August and I can't wait." There's a good chance I wouldn't be in a situation like this again, which was comforting.

"You're goin' to…?" He quirked a brow.

I used the back of my hand to wipe my nose. "University of Saint Mary."

"Kansas?" he shouted. "You might as well study at the Vatican."

"It's a great school, and its distance from Brooklyn…was very appealing," I whispered.

"I understand," he said. "You have to do what's best for you, Maggie, whatever's gonna make you happy." He nodded. "My first choice was Stanford…clear shot across the country, three thousand miles between my family and myself." Damion chuckled.

"Sorry it didn't work," I mumbled.

"Oh…I was accepted. It just didn't work out. And I should have gone anyway." He shrugged. "But that's another regret I'll live with."

"Can I go now?" I asked, hopeful.

Damion laughed but there was no humor to it. "Right…I'm the bad guy, and you wanna get as far away from me as possible." He touched his chest. "It's absurd…but I am a pretty smart guy. So, know this from now. Take my word for it. If you don't go to Kansas, he'll destroy your life."

Before I could ask, he said, "Your elusive Santino." He was angry again, but then I was, too.

"Well, just so you know…smart guy, the more you say about him, the more it says about you," I nearly shouted. "Makes me think badly about you, not him—"

Damion stepped closer, locking his eyes on to mine. "I don't give a flyin' fuck."

I gritted my teeth, clamping my eyes closed.

"Once he gets his hooks in—and that's even if he decides you're worth his time—I assure you, he'll ruin every aspect, everything you got goin' in your life now…" He started laughing again. "No, I can paint you a picture right now of your brilliant future with Santino." Damion grasped my jaw, made me look at him. "If you stay in Brooklyn come fall, you'll never leave. You'll be pregnant within a year—"

"Stop!" I pushed him off and away from me again.

"And…then you'll be alone with your stretch marks, you and three bratty kids while he's…" Damion trailed off.

"Why are you saying this stuff?"

"I…guess I've seen it happen too many times, and you're the quintessential little trophy." He mock-punched my chin, like he was proud. "You're gorgeous all around, untouched, timid… Oh, can you cook?" he asked, his eyes lighting up. "You and Amelia could swap recipes!" Damion clapped once, resting his chin on his hands.

"I think you…are an asshole." I came to that conclusion.

"Fine. I can accept that." At least that sobered him a little. "You also know nothing about him, sweet girl. Nothing." He palmed my cheek, getting very close, looking at me the way he did before...and it all happened so fast.

I ran from him and out of the doorway, and I'd wanted to run all the way home. But Mr. Cullen was standing right there, like he'd been eavesdropping; I almost bumped into him, which made me stop short.

"Again? Are you for real?" he asked his son as he steadied me. "Maybe you need an ass-kickin' right on Fourth Ave for the 'hood to see." He let go of me, going for Damion.

He put his hands up. "It wasn't like that. I didn't hurt her, touch her, or force her to…talk to me," Damion explained, sort of lying by omission. "However, it is none of your business."

Mr. Cullen laughed. "Right…I gave you one simple task. Driving me is actually considered an honor but not to you. And drivers stay with the cars, drivers have my back. All of which you knew, and now…" He looked positively scary yet restrained, and I was frozen where I stood, slightly in the middle of them. "I receive a phone call about bein' clocked, and my driver is nowhere to be found—none the wiser. If I wasn't also informed about youse two playin' footsie—tag or whatever-the-fuck it was in the street, I would've assumed the worst wit' youse disappearin'—"

He clamped a hand down on Damion's shoulder. "Eyes and ears everywhere, baby boy…and I'm the least of your troubles. Our plans are shot now, but…" He was crazy angry, trying his best to stay calm. "Get in the fuckin' car!" He pointed. "And you…" He stared down at me.

"I'm sorry, sir," I said it right away, hoping he wouldn't yell at me.

"My sons are goin' after you like two dogs fightin' ova a bone. Please…I can see you starting a whole mess of trouble. For my wife's sake—"

Cracking under the pressure, I sobbed into my hands, shaking my head. "I'm not a troublemaker, I swear. This isn't my fault, or maybe it is. I just wanna go home."

He stopped me from scampering off like the mouse I was. "Go inside and wash your face. The last thing you should be crying about is those two knuckleheads." He stared behind me. "What'd Damion do? Tell me."

"Nothing." I rushed out, not knowing what he might have seen or heard already. "After today, I'll never see Santino or Damion again, but…I'd like to be Kylie's friend, if that's okay?" The most heartbreaking thought was losing her friendship. "We can hang at my house." My stomach quivered as I wiped my eyes, and I felt…too many things at once. "She's my best friend."

"Maggie, calm down." Damion placed his hand on my shoulder.

"Knock it off!" his father warned.

"You're making her upset," Damion argued.

"Oh, right." Mr. Cullen smiled. "I'm the bad guy." His words and tone along with his demeanor were familiar; he sounded just like Damion. "Her tears have nothin' to do wit' what I saw?"

"What'd you see?" Damion asked. "You didn't see shit—"

"Her pushing you away, the mad dash, or the terrified look on her face." He walked toward his son. "So help me God, Damion—"

"Tell him what happened," Damion rushed out, speaking to me.

I shook my head, trying my hardest to compose myself. "No-nothing happened."

"You really think I'd do something to hurt her?" Damion asked.

"He didn't," I whispered, and he really hadn't.

Though all of his words and actions—Damion almost kissing me, not once, but twice—left my mind a discombobulated mess. And I couldn't make the connections between, nor make sense, of his previous and most recent behavior. Doing a quick mental inventory of what he'd said, he stayed away from me because he was no good, and I was starting to believe that.

The way he touched me, handling me with force, was threatening, almost menacing in a way.

He's tall, strong—a man.

I'm short, weak—a girl.

I saw us in ways I hadn't before; I couldn't explain it.

I felt like the child I was while being intimidated by the man he was…?

Overall, I'd felt completely and utterly powerless, trapped.

His demeanor had changed rapidly and so many times, it gave me whiplash. Damion would go from being hurtful, sincere, to angry, and then…he'd get too close.

I had no idea how to differentiate the lies from the truth.

Apparently, Santino's bad for me, too—and I didn't want to believe that, but I guess it doesn't matter what I think, or how I feel.

NONE of it mattered when I had to stay away from them.

Maybe it'd save me a world of hurt later on? Maybe Damion was correct? Maybe what everyone's been saying is correct…

That I should put what happened behind me.

Santino can't and won't settle down; his life is complicated and he has a baby on the way along with Katie, and everything else I know nothing about.

I also didn't want to create conflict within Kylie's lovely family.

It'd be unfair to everyone involved, including myself.

The small shred of hope I'd had for…my date with Santino actually happening next weekend…was thrown away, forced out of my mind.

Who knows? I bet Mr. Cullen won't even let me be Kylie's friend anymore.

Then I could go back to…existing, reading about experiences I'll never have, studying, volunteering at church, and praying for August to get here as soon as possible, when I'll be leaving for Kansas.

That's been my plan, my dream for months, and my long-term goals hadn't changed in the slightest.

Attending the University of Saint Mary was my escape route. I'd be over a thousand miles away from my parents. I could stay out as late as I want, go where I want, be with whoever I want…

Study whatever I wish.

I have enough experience, have spent a lot of time at Saint Anselm's convent, thus gaining many helpful mentors. Serving God to the best of my ability, I have lived like a nun for the past couple of years—the last few days notwithstanding—so I technically could join a community right out of high school.

When my parents worried about college tuition, they'd preferred it; the archdiocese would send me to school if they saw fit, or I could attend class at one of their universities.

Unsure of what the future held, I wanted my bachelor's degree first—be it in education or healthcare.

If after four more years, and some more life experience, if I still aimed to become a nun, I could join a traditional apostolic community, where I'd be able to apply my degree.

In fact, the night I met Damion, I wasn't coming home from a friend's house…in a manner of speaking.

Having always loved the quiet, serene atmosphere, I snuck into the nave before closing time, and then hid in the church to study, get away from my parents—have some alone time, only to curl up and fall asleep. I had no idea that Sister Victoria found me and had called my parents until I woke up at around midnight panicking. There are a lot of pews because Saint Anselm's is large, so Sister was still polishing the wooden benches. I'd helped her with the task for a little while before she urged me to go to bed, stay at the convent…again.

To get outta that pickle, I pretended to call my dad, asking him to come get me; meanwhile, he already thought I was staying at the rectory.

I'd been able to stargaze, enjoy the mild weather, and talk to the moon until…I was literally knocked off my feet by Damion.

My faith is very important—the one and only constant—and it's my life.

And maybe my life wasn't so bad before…

I have friends in the saints, the apostles, and the angels—basically every biblical figure—since they'd never let me down. With them and their brave, sometimes tragic tales I'd never been lonely. With God's love, with Jesus' love, I'd never felt unloved or unwanted.

No matter my parents, I've always known that I was meant to pledge my obedience and fidelity to the Lord.

For a long time there, I couldn't wait to take my vows…

Then I turned sixteen, my brain got all weird, and I'd started to picture Father Matthew—the newest, youngest priest—reading his sermon in his underwear.

That was the first time I'd ever lied during confession; I couldn't admit that, to Father Matthew no less.

I'd talked myself into thinking the devil was testing me, trying to lead me into temptation, but I did that all on my own, and no amount of prayer has worked just yet.

I'll be sure to redouble my efforts, say the rosary a thousand times, say it until I faint from dehydration…

No Kylie, no job, no stupid boys to occupy my mind, I'd have the extra time.

Meanwhile, in reality, the Cullen men glared at each other for a few beats too long—a staring contest—and Damion backed down first. "Get in the car." His father's tone was soft, not like it'd been minutes prior.

I waited 'til Damion turned before I spoke to Mr. Cullen, and having gained a little composure, my voice was stronger. "I plan to rededicate myself to God, Our Lord and Savior, to repent and get back on track."

"You're still hell-bent on joinin' the nunnery?" Damion shouted.

Mr. Cullen made a gesture under his chin; his stare meant business.

"It's a total waste!" Damion exclaimed. "She could serve God without marrying Him."

"Enough, Dame!" his father warned.

"Maggie…" I wouldn't turn to Damion. "Maggie, look at me." I shook my head no, keeping my eyes on the pavement. "Oh, fuck it. Fuck it all to hell!" Damion continued.

I winced when I heard the car door slam. "Um, God forgive me for causing a rift between your family," I told Mr. Cullen. "That was never my intention. Thank you for your generosity, hospitality, and the work experience." Knowing I had to leave, had to say goodbye, I started crying again. "If, if you could just tell Kylie—"

"You can keep your job, Maggie," he said, lifting my chin with his finger. "You can continue being Kylie's friend. That shit goes without sayin'… I don't know how good Kylie's been for you, but you've been a great friend, and a great influence on my daughter. She's also much happier these days."

Surprised, I stared at him, hadn't expected him to say that at all.

"Can you stop cryin'?" He peered up and down the block. "My wife'll kick my ass." His stare lingered behind me again.

I giggled through my tears. "I'm sorry."

Mr. Cullen stepped around me, and I turned to see a middle-aged man in a black suit. "Everything all right, Skip?" the gentleman asked.

"Yeah, I'm leavin' in ten minutes, and then you can hop back on my dick—you like it so much." Mr. Cullen made another hand gesture that I didn't understand.

"It's not every day you make little girls cry." The man looked to me. "Hon, you okay?"

I nodded but Mr. Cullen answered for me, "She's fine."

"He didn't make me cry," I blurted, apprehensive and confused. I had no idea who this guy was, but I didn't want him to think badly of Mr. Cullen.

The man nodded. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Nunya." Mr. Cullen stepped closer to him. "As in nun-ya fuckin' business, so get back ya car and wait for me, like the good bitch you are."

My eyes widened; I wasn't sure what to do with myself, wondering if I should stay here or go back inside.

The man smiled, backing down as Damion had. "I'd like to eat dinner before six, so if you could just…get to where you gotta go." He turned, walking back to a black sedan that'd been parked a few lengths away from the SUV.

Mr. Cullen flipped both middle fingers at him, laughing hysterically before whipping back to me. "You ever see that guy again, you don't talk to him. He's a very dangerous man."

"Oh." That put another knot in my belly. "Thanks for…not telling him my name, I guess . . . and I should really get back in if I wanna keep my job." I jerked my thumb.

The sidewalk that didn't need to be cleared had been swept for over a half hour already, while customers arrived and departed Bay Ridge Tan.

"Aspetta." He put a hand up. "That means wait."

I clasped my hands together in front of myself, nodding, having figured that out.

"Look, I don't sugarcoat things for my kids… I tell it like it is. I figure, why not level with my kids, treat them like they ain't stupid. Right?" he asked, quirking a brow.

I agreed, my stare falling to my shoes.

"Look up here." He pointed to his eyes. "I'm talking to you." Mr. Cullen now had the same authoritative tone my own father uses.

For some reason, that was comforting. "Yes, sir…my apologies." I stood straight, looking up to him.

"Now…I'mma talk and I'm gonna say some things, and ask you a few questions. And even if you're a kid who's had too much church, I'll be blunt, direct, and straight to the fuckin' point. Understand?" His tone had remained on the softer side, letting me know his hostile words weren't threatening.

"Yes, sir."

Mr. Cullen peered over at his son. "I'm sure Dame was up to no good, and he upset you."

"No—"

He sucked his teeth. "Don't lie to me. I'm being truthful—" he touched his chest "—and I expect you to extend the same courtesy."

I didn't say anything, as agreeing would also be agreeing to the stuff regarding Damion.

"Did he touch you…in an ill-manner that you did not approve of?" He looked between his car and me.

"No, absolutely not, sir. Absolutely not." I hoped he believed me.

Mr. Cullen hummed, glancing across the street to Santino's apartment. "If you, however, welcomed any advances—"

"No!" I shouted, appalled. "Good God, no, sir." I shook my head, vehement. "No way. We were just talking."

"People attach too much importance to being friendly," he said. "Next time one of those knuckleheads bothers you, pick up anything you can find—just whack 'em one and aim for the head." He smiled.

"Um…" I grinned, wanting to giggle, but I shrugged. "All right, I guess."

"I'll be having a very candid chat with Damion…Santino as well. They won't hassle you ever again."

I gave him a solemn nod, accepting that, feeling a twinge of sadness at how final it felt—the final nail in the coffin of whatever I had with Santino. And I felt badly that Mr. Cullen was placing all this blame on Damion, although he did…pester and scare me.

"Damion, um, he…" I started, unsure.

"Damion?" Mr. Cullen questioned, tone laced with shock. "What about him? I thought you'd be more concerned with Sonny." His assessment was correct, but my next words weren't about me at all.

"Damion's troubled." I thought there might be hope there, maybe they could have a heart-to-heart, and he could help his son or something; I didn't know.

"We're all fairly fuckin' disturbed—thought you woulda picked up on that by now," he laughed.

I didn't think his words funny. "I think you and your family are wonderful, sir...very warm and welcoming." Santino's smile flashed in my mind, and I felt emotional again.

"I was kiddin'." He nudged his elbow to my bicep, and then he checked his watch. "Listen, whatever happened this afternoon—you talkin' to Dame—no one's gotta know about it. You seem like a very private person, Maggie. I admire that. I'm private, too."

"I…am private, sir."

"Good…and so I can avoid World War Three at my house, you'll keep it to yourself?" he asked.

"Yes. I'll keep it to myself," I agreed.

"You been out hea' a while. Say you was sweepin' old man Giacomo's storefront, too, and then you did inside the store."

"Okay," I whispered.

"And like you just said—" he pointed at me "—stay away from them, and don't talk to them, don't contact either of my sons."

"Of course." I felt my lip quiver and bit it down, wondering what was horrible about seeing Santino again, why Mr. Cullen wanted me to stay away from him. I understood keeping my distance from Damion.

People might get the wrong idea if I was seen talking to him but spending time with Santino. Damion was already upset with Santino, although I wasn't 100% sure it pertained to me. It could also hurt Damion's relationship with Amelia. And after that awkward confrontation, and finally getting my chance to ask Damion some questions…I realized that some crap is better left unknown.

"No matter what you and Sonny did, no matter how brief the, uh, encounter might have been…which—" he showed me his palms "—Sonny had no business bein' on that roof alone wit'chu. He's a grown-ass man and you're a baby. That ain't right. I know youse had some drinks, was chillin'. I know he didn't disrespect you, but it shouldn't have happened and it can't happen again. Do you understand? It's inappropriate."

I agreed without sound, not trusting my voice.

"Again, no matter the circumstances, I know Sonny'll feel the need to avenge your tears. If Sonny finds out Damion upset you or stepped outta line, he'll hurt Damion…and I can't have that. I'd also like to have all my kids home for the holidays."

"I'll stay away—won't say anything," I promised. "Your family's really nice." My tears started again. "I wouldn't mess with that."

He patted my bicep. "You're far too young for them, Maggie."

"I'm eighteen," I mumbled.

"Excuse me?" He stared at me. "Worse comes to worst, what if one clipped the other?"

"Clipped?" I didn't understand.

"Worse than that—" he spoke with his hands "—you mess wit' them both and you get knocked up." He slapped his hands together. "Then, who's the baby's daddy…?" Mr. Cullen waited for an answer. "You gettin' passed between the both of them, like some Cullen family heirloom, it'll be difficult to pull off an immaculate conception. What would you tell your parents?"

I blinked, my jaw almost hitting the ground.

"Oh, and stay away from my brother, please. You're walkin' to school and you see Carlisle Cullen, you cross the fuckin' street." He nodded, pursing his lips.

"I…" My mouth refused to work.

"What the…fuck are you talkin' about?" Damion hollered from the car. "You listenin' to yaself?" He left the SUV, slamming the door closed again. "You just called her a ho. What's wrong with you?"

"In a minute, you're gonna know what's wrong wit'chu if you don't get back in that fuckin' car." Mr. Cullen's voice was low and menacing. "Capisce?"

"Maggie, go inside." Damion gave me a gentle nudge on my shoulder.

"Stay right where you are." Mr. Cullen wasn't looking at me, but I knew he was talking to me. "The difference between a hooker and a ho ain't nothin' but a fee. And your brother has expensive tastes… He's persuasive and young girls are easily persuadable," he explained, still staring at his son. "These are life lessons—facts of life." Mr. Cullen gestured to me. "I'm not wrong."

"He's right," Damion told me. "Remember…the devil was very handsome, too."

Angry, irrationally, or possibly rightfully so, I didn't say a word to either of them.

But I wanted to.

"I'm trying to avoid a potential shit storm," Mr. Cullen continued. "And she's not some carnival ride—you get a turn, Sonny gets a turn, and it's your turn again?"

"I was only with Santino," I started, unable to hold back, "And he didn't give me money or anything. Nothing."

I wiped under my eyes. "I wanted him to have me. I wanted it more than, than I've ever wanted anything. We were under the moon and the stars, and nobody understands… He didn't promise me anything. He told me his life was complicated, and he couldn't agree to a commitment. But that was fine with me…because…I wanted him." I deflated, dropping my shoulders, but it felt great to explain.

"I've never even kissed Damion, and I won't. I don't want him—not in that way." I was about to hide, sob into my hands but reined it in. "What's wrong with you people…?" I looked between the both of them, and they weren't even looking at me, possibly not paying attention to me.

"It's not you…not you I was worried about, Maggie." Mr. Cullen cleared his throat. "They're men, and I'll tell you what I told my daughter. Men are nasty. They're disgusting. I know…because I'm a man." He shrugged. "And if they both wanna piece of you…hey, they might not relent, but you will...leaving one of them fucked in the head."

"This is ridiculous," Damion laughed. "Are you serious?" He was staring down to me. "If you didn't use him to get back at me, you definitely used him just to lose your virginity, right?"

I groaned, palming my own cheeks. "I should get a T-shirt made."

"Good one." Mr. Cullen put his fist out for a pound.

Weakly, I bumped my knuckles to his, answering Damion's question, "Santino is wonderful, very kind and handsome. I didn't use him...for any purpose. It kinda just happened, but I wanted it to happen. It was awesome—I—I mean—we—he was, and I—"

"Just stop." Mr. Cullen patted my head. "You might hurt yourself."

"That's a bunch'a bullshit, but you'll realize soon… You'll learn. You know nothing—absolutely nothing, about Sonny's life. Maybe he told you about a few complications, but I know he didn't—"

"Oh!" Mr. Cullen exclaimed so loudly, I jumped.

"Yeah, save your breath. I'm goin'…" Damion walked back to the SUV.

His dad waved a hand. "They'll stay away from you. I'll make sure. You should be dating boys your own age, like from your school. They're probably on the same wavelength as you. Capisce?"

I nodded.

"Boys are overrated, too, Mags." He pursed his lips. "You have years before you gotta grow up, you know? Try to be a kid for as long as you can. Because being an adult…it's not all it's cracked up to be."

"Oh, not the kid speech!" Kylie appeared behind him. "Stop trying to corrupt my friend."

"Stop…feeding your friend to the fuckin' wolves. Did I not teach you right?" Mr. Cullen hollered back.

"Dad's right!" Damion shouted from the SUV.

"You said plenty—that's enough outta you!" Mr. Cullen warned. "And you two, get inside—work." He waved us away.

Now that most them were outside, I wanted to go in anyway. Kylie entered first, and I was on her heels, happy for the reprieve.

But my friend was crying, which was unexpected. "Mom had a phone call, but I'd been eavesdropping. Don't listen to them. It bothers me they have no faith in Sonny. He's the best big brother, the bestest friend, and a really awesome guy. I knew he wouldn't hurt you. Please, don't think I could ever do that to you. I'd never feed you to a wolf."

"I know," I said, believing her.

"What happened was crazy. I didn't expect that to happen, but it did… Do you see it as a bad thing?" she whispered.

"Not at all." I was honest. "The rest of it's confusing, and today has been—" I didn't have the strength to explain.

"Why didn't anyone tell me Dame was here?" Mrs. Cullen stared behind us, to the car pulling away from the curb. "I didn't see him or hear him." They must not have heard a whole lot. "Why's he with Daddy on a weekday?" She glanced at Kylie.

"I dunno… They're not the most likely of pairs, but does Dame need a reason?" Kylie scrunched her nose. "It's Daddy."

Her mother looked out that window for a long time while we just stood there—and there were no customers at the moment; there wouldn't be another influx of patrons until later, when more people are off from work.

"She okay?" I gestured to Mrs. Cullen.

Kylie ushered me toward the back. "I'm sure she's fine. I'll try to get the scoop later. But, tell me…where'd you go? I was talking to my parents… I didn't even see Dame either until two minutes ago. Did you go somewhere with him?"

"No." I held my stomach. "I was sweeping…did next door's sidewalk, too." I hated lying to Kylie, but I had to.

"Was Dame talkin' smack? 'Cause he's just hatin'. Don't let him confuse you."

"He's not," I said. "Well, not really—"

Her jaw dropped. "As kinky as it might be, you can't be some yo-yo between them."

"No!" I shouted. "He said some things—he said I knew nothing about Santino's life, and that he'd destroy mine."

"Well…the truths to some secrets are earned. A level of trust has to be established before…truly knowing someone." Kylie munched on her lip, obviously uneasy. Actually, she looked as though she might gnaw it off. "You…you won't care when you find out." She grabbed my hand. "I promise, you won't."

My belly filled with dread. "Kylie, you have to tell me." I'd confessed every secret I had to her already. "You have to."

"It's not mine to tell," she whispered.

"Since when is something not your business?" I asked.

"He doesn't have ex-wives and love-children stashed away." She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, but…what else could be so secretive?" I wanted to pull my hair out. "I have all of Santino's numbers—I should just ask him."

"You got the digits to the bat phone?" she giggled. "That's fucking awesome, but don't ask him. He'll just get moody and quiet 'cause he hates to talk about it." She nodded.

I waved a hand, hoping she'd continue.

"Ugh…All right." She poked her head into the hall. "A long, long time ago—back when I was a baby—Sonny was in an accident. He was hurt real bad, and he doesn't like to talk about it."

"What…? That's tragically horrible but it's not—"

"Because Damion was lying and telling you about Sonny's past…He doesn't really have any secrets." She nodded, staring away from me. "Damion was...trying to mess with you. Sonny getting hurt is all I can think of. He was in bad shape for a while, after getting shot and all."

"He was shot?" I almost shouted. "By who?"

Kylie acted dismissive again. "That was a long time ago. And it was gang crap or something. A stray bullet...I dunno. It could be considered a secret. Who would wanna think about it?"

I could agree there.

"Bottom line, Dame lied, trying to screw with your head… I could really take a shit in his cornflakes." She was angry. "What kinda crap is that to say to you? I should tell my mom. We should just tell my mom everything. She'll know what to do."

"Don't." I wanted to forget my conversation with Damion, if I could. "That's why I wanted you to tell me, so I could forget it ever happened."

Kylie squealed. "You and Sonny!"

I disagreed, remembering my promise to her dad. "Staying away is the right thing to do. I don't wanna develop real feelings for Santino, or worse—" I cringed at the thought, scared to death of the concept alone, falling in love. "We're friends. That's it, and we'll stay friends…but away from each other."

Kylie snorted. "How long until his friendly cock falls into your very amicable va-jay-jay?"

I laughed. "Oh my gosh, shut up."

She cackled, leaving the break room. "Made ya blush!"

When we got back to the front, there were a few people waiting for beds. Kylie and I didn't get the chance to gossip or goof around since Mrs. Cullen was practically cracking her whip. We kept busy while customers came and went. After about an hour, the evening rush was nearly concluded. Then, of course, we found ourselves back in the break room.

"Only two hours left." Kylie sipped her water.

I hummed, trying to stay upbeat, my thoughts constantly going back to Santino.

"What's wrong?" Kylie asked.

I smiled at my friend, albeit sadly. "Nothing. I'm thinking too much, like always."

She puffed her cheeks, nodding. "About Sonny?"

I opened my mouth deny it, but it was no use. "Yes."

Kylie's face lit up. "Don't think too much. I don't know what Dame really told you. You gave me a good idea, but don't let him get to you."

"Right."

Silence fell upon us for a few seconds too long, which is unlike us. And I continued to stare at Kylie, hoping she'd have a solution to my problem.

"I can't think about him," I whispered. "There's no point."

She placed her arm over my shoulders. "Not thinking about him is easier said than done. And why do you have to stay away from him?"

"Because I told your father I would..."

She scoffed, shaking her head. "You're not his kid; he's not God...He's no one to you," she giggled. "There's no harm in you hanging with Sonny. My father is a miserable old man, and I don't know why that is."

"It's more than that." I didn't even know how to elaborate. "Your father said...it's inappropriate, and I can see why." I cringed, stiffening. "And I'm thinking too much about it anyway," I laughed, bitterly. "And I'm disappointed over nothing. Santino said we'd go get sushi next weekend. Who knows if he'll keep the date? I might be saving myself from being hurt if I just stay away."

"No pain, no gain...Nothing ventured, nothing gained. And those are the words of my father," Kylie giggled. "He'd say those things whenever I was afraid of something. You can't fear the unknown. You don't know what's going to happen, so don't give up without even seeing it through, or even seeing it halfway. I say...fuck it. Go for it, Maggie. Stay away from my brother because you want to, because you don't like him." She poked my chest. "Not because Damion and my father are sticking their beaks in. Go for yours."

I just nodded. "We should get back to work."

Kylie sighed, making to leave the room, and I followed.

But then she turned to bump into me, nearly shoving me into the table. "Oh my God!" Kylie shouted through a whisper, jumping up and down.

"What?" I asked. If she wasn't so excited, I'd be frightened. "What's—"

Kylie started to dance and hump the air. "Go Maggie. It's your birthday, have a party. GO! GO! GO!" She crunked, getting low.

I laughed, watching her.

Mrs. Cullen entered the room, unfazed by her daughter's behavior. "Daddy had to cancel his plans… I'm meeting your father for dinner. We're going out." She grabbed her stuff from the closet.

Kylie gasped but kept her tone hushed. "You meddled! You—and Daddy told you not to, and you did!"

"No, I didn't. I asked your brother the other day to come keep you company—help you close." She shrugged. "He's gotta take a look at the books anyway. Daddy was gonna send Uncle Aro to close with you, and I agreed… At first, I said I'd call him, but I must've dialed Uncle Carlisle's cell by mistake." Mrs. Cullen pulled her coat on. "Doesn't matter. You'll be safe and looked after, and Carlisle will bring you home later."

"You keep the books." Kylie pointed to her. "Uncle Aro is Katie's dad and Uncle Carlisle doesn't care about…anything!" She gasped again, gesturing to her mother. "And you're gonna tame Dad wit' poon—he won't even care to ask!" She started clapping. "Bravo, Momma!"

"Ask, what?" I stared between them, lost.

"I goofed…trying to consolidate a few bills," her mother replied.

"You don't consolidate crap!" Kylie laughed.

"And that's why my eldest, who's good with numbers, is here to take a look." Her eyes darted to mine but went back to Kylie just as fast.

"No, you just set up the chess board, and let the pieces do…what they think they want until you move them—" Kylie was going apeshit. "That doesn't make sense but it does in here." She pointed to her temple.

Mrs. Cullen smiled down to her daughter. "He'll either be here or across the street—" she kissed Kylie's hair "—can be here at a moment's notice should you need him. Get a pizza for dinner."

Kylie's eyes searched mine as her mother left. "Tell Sonny you want lobster—"

I shook my head to protest.

"Come on! My boyfriend's all the way in Texas, and…he can barely afford to take me to Red Lobster, let alone get me lobster." She frowned.

"I thought Giovanni's dad owned seafood restaurants?" I asked.

"No, they're Italian joints." She gagged on her finger. "How much pasta can one person eat all her life, Maggie?" Kylie pouted. "Sonny will totally send someone to go get it. He has minions, but if I ask…?" Kylie pointed to herself. "I just got my period and I'm so craving lobster—the butter, maybe some roasted potatoes? Corn on the cob?" She licked her lips, her eyes brightening. "And…the boy knows his wine, too. He'll probably get a nice, expensive bottle of Chardonnay."

I giggled. "You can ask him…I've…I don't remember ever having lobster before."

"Ha! You're gonna have some tonight, girlfriend." She reached to unbutton my shirt.

"Stop it." I slapped her hand away.

"Oh, cool your jets, Mother Teresa. Just one or two. You gotta work for it…a little," she snickered. "I'm not saying ho-cleavage-city, but a hint of boobage?"

I looked down, feeling my top too loose around the collar.

"Besides, he had his own feast last night…and I bet he saw you naked a bunch of times. Tee-hee," she giggled. "And roll this up." She started fiddling with my skirt. "You gotta be the only Catholic schoolgirl who doesn't hike the kilt when class is over." She appraised me. "See…? Just like on Halloween, you have very nice legs."

My face flushed, thinking of Santino seeing me naked…and how many times.

And I saw him.

And his glorious body.

And now...he's here?

The realization hit me like a wrecking ball, and my stomach tied in knots.

"Now, when you get out there," she whispered "sit on the stool. Not the one by the water cooler, the one on the outside so he'll see you. And don't be shy. You're a cool, foxy, confident, and sexy lady. Keep your head up and play with your hair…Not a lot but some."

"I puked up my bagel before." And my emotions had been all over the place since. I was scared I'd get sick or fall into his arms to cry, relieved by his presence. "My God, what if I gotta vomit again?"

"I have gum in my purse." She went for the closet, digging into her handbag. "Chew but not like a cow."

"You're making me nervous." I shoved the Trident into my mouth, butterflies joining the knots in my stomach. "He's really here?" I had to make sure.

Kylie made an odd noise; she sounded like a dolphin. "He is."

"Do they all come here every day?" I knew Mr. Cullen usually dropped by whenever his wife was here, but that's it. Otherwise, before Halloween, I'd only seen Kylie's brothers in passing—Damion more than Santino, actually.

"Often enough so it's not odd, I guess. No, Dame hardly ever comes by, but Sonny lives across the street." She squeezed my hands. "He just hasn't been by recently, trying to placate that drama queen. It's really sad 'cause she's an awesome person, really freakin' nice. I'd just never be her boyfriend or husband. You know?"

I felt bad because I tried to block out everything she'd said regarding Katie.

In this moment, standing here with Kylie, I was excited and I couldn't believe Santino was here.

But I'd just made that promise to their father, promising I'd stay away.

"My mom totally meddled. She's always poking her nose where it don't belong, but we love her anyway. 'Cause her intentions are always good, and she's got good intuition." Kylie sounded scripted. "That's what she tells me, and she's right…most of the time."

"What if she didn't?" I asked. "What if—"

"I know my mom's lie-face. Sometimes she's really good at hiding her dishonesty—a real poker face. But, just now, she gave me this sparkly-eyed look. Trust me." She squeezed my biceps. "And Sonny's always gotta be the big, stupid hero. I mean, he cares, would drop whatever in a heartbeat to look out for you and me."

"I think that applies more to you," I said.

"Not only to me. I don't think."

"Ladies, youse gotta customer!" Santino shouted, and he sounded far enough away.

I let out a large breath.

"Go!" Kylie forced me out of the room but she didn't need to.

The sight of Santino in his suit, the same navy blue one with the stripes from this morning—I had to concentrate to walk in a straight line. He hadn't looked at me; I hadn't felt his eyes. He focused on his cell phone, taking a seat on the lobby bench.

Santino leaned back, nonchalant with his long legs relaxed, stretching far; he was the picture of cool, calm, and collected.

Why couldn't I be like that?

Kylie decided to take the customer back to a bed, and I stared at the stools—hoping I wouldn't hop and lose my balance, silently praying that I'd be graceful for once in my life.

Luckily, I made it without falling, but I hadn't realized how short my skirt would be with me sitting down. Crossing my legs didn't really help the situation either.

When Kylie came back to the front, she studied Santino and me closely. "What's going on?" she asked.

I tried my best to act blasé, and Santino was still busy with his phone.

"You gotta new one?" She walked toward him to pick up the orange AT&T bag.

"Something like that… I'm trying to set up the contacts," he replied.

Kylie nodded, making a silent hand gesture, an indication I should go talk to him.

When another customer came in, Kylie insisted I handle it, which was a relief. I escorted the gentleman down the hall, was setting his tan-time on the control panel when I heard, "You can't say hi?"

Santino was behind me; I felt his breath on my ear, which made me tingle all over, made me shudder, and I hoped he didn't notice.

Smiling, I paused with my back to him, and then I turned to see his handsome face. "Hi," I said.

"What's with the legs? You tryin'a kill me?" His hand descended low, his fingers caressing my thigh. "I got you something."

Overwhelmed by him, by everything, I didn't reply.

"I think you'll love it." He handed me an envelope, a greeting card. "You sneak into the bathroom to read it, and I'll work on getting us some dinner." He leaned in to kiss me, and I held my breath, waiting. "And we'll be talking about the shit you said earlier." He smirked, staring at my lips. "Trust, baby…I'm no tease." His hand snaked up my skirt to palm my ass, pull my body flush against his, where I felt his obvious arousal.

"Do it," I whispered, wishing he'd take me right now, against the wall, over on the counter—it didn't matter.

"Hey," Kylie came toward us "—knowing the dirty deets is fine, but don't be…all smutty up in here. My place of business." She went back to the front.

"Did you hear that?" Santino smiled. "Don't be smutty, Maggie. I'm tryin'a behave."

"You make me smutty," I admitted, my chest heaving, my head a little dizzy.

"Ditto, baby." His lips were chaste and yet forceful against mine, and we were moving. He'd turned us around. "You might think the card silly, but it reminded me of you." Santino walked me backward, and I was completely under his spell. His eyes were hypnotic and intense, and he stared intently.

And then I realized I was in the bathroom. "I bet the card is lovely—"

Santino kicked the door closed with his foot, gathering me into his arms again. This time, he kissed me deep, his mouth unrelenting, and I practically crawled up his body—my skin on fire.

"Sorry." He placed a few soft smooches as he let me go.

"No!" I latched on, using every ounce of strength I had to get more of that mouth.

Santino groaned, lifting me up by my ass to sit me on the sink. My legs wrapped around his torso—our tongues were a tangled mess, and I tried to push his jacket away from his shoulders. I needed to feel his skin against mine.

He pulled my hair, exposed my neck to bite me, and I reveled in the sensation: the pleasure along with the exquisite pain.

"Fuck me," I pleaded in a breathy whisper. "Please."

After tonight, there's a chance I'll never see him again.

Only an hour and a half had passed since Mr. Cullen left the salon.

No more than ninety minutes—which is hardly the length of a decent movie—had gone by, and I'd already broken my promise to Kylie's dad. God knows what will happen when Santino finally speaks to him.

Mr. Cullen spoke with such finality; his word was law as their patriarch. Damion obeyed every command and every demand, like Kylie who's just as compliant. Surely Santino wasn't any different from his siblings.

I bet he respects his father the same way Kylie and Damion do, if not more. Santino told me his father was his best friend.

If I listened to Mr. Cullen about going on with my life—without Santino—but with the plans I'd already made, I'd be taking a vow of chastity in the near future.

No.

No matter the repercussions.

No matter what Mr. Cullen said.

And despite my future plans, including the plight of celibacy . . .

I needed Santino.

Now.

In this moment, I had no self-restraint, and my virtue was gone.

Why should I refuse myself this opportunity?

Why deny my chance to be with Santino?

Because other people have a problem with it…?

That didn't make any sense.

I want him very badly.

Unless there's a banana in his pocket, he wants me, too!

"Please…" I started to unbutton his shirt. "Show me you're not a tease." I pulled his undershirt down to kiss his chest, my fingers weaving into his hair. "Take me, enjoy me…I'm all yours." I didn't know what I was saying anymore, desperate and practically clawing at him.

"That's right. Mine." Santino stepped back, letting out a deep groan as he undid his pants rapidly, his hands fumbling with his belt.

Now, he was too far away, and I pulled him to me by his shirt, my legs finding their home around his waist.

"Wait." He leaned his forehead to mine, panting, out of breath.

"No, don't stop. Please," I begged, continuing to pop the buttons on his shirt.

"I don't, uh, fuck…What am I doin'? Maggie—" he clamped his eyes shut, stiffening "—I don't have a condom." He cringed, slamming his hand against the wall beside me.

That confused me; we'd just gone to the store for a whole box. "But you just bought a whole—"

He chuckled. "You think I used twelve rubbers during the—" he glanced at his watch "—the thirteen hours we've been apart?" Santino was still catching his breath but laughing. "I'm good, but I ain't that good."

My shoulders slumped while I tried to ignore that delicious ache between my thighs. Disappointment set in quickly, and I racked my brain.

I needed a solution for this recent, and very unfortunate, development.

Santino frowned, sadness was written all over his face as he rested the back of his hand to my cheek. He was likely trying to brush my blush away. "God, what the fuck has my family been sayin' to you?" he asked. "They think they know me, but, baby, they have no idea. What happens in my personal life…stays personal, unless someone opens their big mouth, and then…they just exaggerate."

Extremely disheartened, I could cry.

Crestfallen but not deaf, I heard his words. I was still listening to what he'd been saying, and while his family had said a great many things about him, I wouldn't dream of repeating them.

Nevertheless, I was more upset about not having a condom.

Before I could protest, tell him why I was dismayed, he continued, "Hey—" Santino held my jaw, searching my eyes "—I swear. All twelve are in the sealed box back at the hotel. I haven't used any of them."

I held back a whine, a whimper—sure I'd sound like a petulant child. "What good do the condoms do anyone there? No one's at the hotel." Okay, so maybe I still managed to sound bitchy.

But I asked the only logical question I could pose.

"Huh…?" Judging by his bemused expression, Santino was taken aback by my inquiry...or my gripes, my bellyaching about our lack of prophylactics.

It was my fault for confusing him.

There he was, thinking I'd deem him a man-whore based on what his family said…and my only qualm, what I worried most about was our no glove, no love status.

"Crap." I palmed my forehead, finally noticing the pain from the faucet sticking into my ass. "Kylie might have one in her purse!" I clapped twice.

Santino disagreed. "She gives me a rubber, and I gotta buy her a Lexus…" He smiled, stepping even closer. "Maggie, baby, I'd buy her a Porsche if I had to." He trailed his nose along my cheek. "But, we should—"

"Go next door. It's a convenience store. They'll have condoms." I'd have to wait a few minutes, but it was doable.

"Not here." He looked around, grimacing and fixing his pants. "I want you in a bed…so I can take my time." He leaned forward once more, kissing me deeply, passionately. There was longing and need in the heady lip-lock.

I followed his lips, never wanting to break away as I eased off the sink.

Unfortunately, he backed away, panting for air. "Your kisses'll be the death of me."

"Whatta way to go." I rose to my toes.

Before I could kiss him, he paused to search my eyes. "Will you let me make it special? Let me take my time, go slow…" His hands roamed up and down my back. "God, baby…you have no idea how much I want you." His seductive tone, his deep, raspy voice, his words—they threatened to make me melt into a puddle of goo.

"I-I can imagine." I gulped; I wanted him just as badly. "Santino—" I sighed, staring up to his handsome face. His eyes were wrenching me closer, or was it his lips calling me forward?

I wasn't sure, but I nearly got lost in his beauty. "It will be special, no matter the location, because I'd be with you." I wish he'd believe that. "With you, Santino."

I also wished I could stop saying his name, his sexy as sin name.

No, I didn't want to stop saying his name.

Santino.

I wanted to shout it.

Santino!

I wanted to sing it.

Santino…

I wanted to scream it while he fucked me!

Oh, God…Santino!

He smiled, closing his eyes. "You got me goin' crazy ova hea'. I thought about'chu all day. All fuckin' day." He towered over me, advancing, until my back hit the sink, and I pulled him impossibly closer.

"We're not…we're not doin' that in here." He backed off completely, reaching for the envelope that'd fallen to the floor. "Not in here." He pushed the card into my chest.

Words failed me.

I was overheated.

I was light-headed.

I was on fire and dying...

Didn't he notice?

When Santino went for the door, I realized he was now chewing my gum. "Lemme know." He pointed to the card.

"Wait!" I rushed out.

Santino paused to stare at me.

"Read it with me…?" Nervous as to what it might say, I wanted him to stay. Well, I was just scared it might be a formal way of breaking this off—whatever the past two days have been.

Santino grasped the doorknob, a new seriousness to his face. "No…read it alone. You gotta think and let me know." The side of his mouth pulled up. "It's nothing bad, baby." His tone was softer as were his eyes, a sweetness to his demeanor. "Okay?"

I couldn't help but smile at that face, at that man—Santino. "Okay."

As soon as he was gone, I tore open the envelope—surprised to see something had fallen out. After picking it up, I realized it was an iron-on, wild cherry patch.

I giggled madly, knowing this was the most special of gifts he could have given me.

All of the expensive clothes, hotels, and restaurants, they didn't compare to the silly patch that I adored.

Looking at the card made me giddy, too. It was a thank you card with that big-eyed cat—Puss in Boots—on the cover, and what was written inside surprised me even more. His words weren't poetic at all; they'd posed a question.

He wanted me to go back to the hotel with him tonight. Santino had gone on to explain how we'd cover our asses—his plan foolproof. We'd include Kylie, who'd run interference. My father will think I'm staying with the Cullens, and I'll bring uniforms so I won't be late for school.

Santino would drive me back and forth tomorrow.

And I know my father loves the quiet, is enjoying the house while Mom, Mary-Jo, and I aren't there. He's grateful for the Cullens' hospitality.

Essentially, there was no reason not to join him.

But his dad…and what if we did get caught?

Oh God.

That'd be a million times worse than everything that'd happened today.

Hoping my cold hands would cool my hot cheeks; I leaned against the door.

I didn't know what to do.

And then I realized this was why Santino had left me with my thoughts.

He didn't want to pressure me.

If he'd just asked, if he'd been in here when I'd read the card, I would have agreed without a second thought.

It's just one night.

It's tonight.

That's it.

One more night wasn't going to make a big difference.

We'd get away with it again. I just had to be at school on time, and Kylie had to call Santino with any new developments.

When I left the bathroom, I tried not to smile and failed miserably. But I didn't get the chance to be a hormone-crazed, happy lunatic.

Santino wasn't here, wasn't in the lobby.

Before I felt the panic crawl up my neck, I turned to my friend. "Hey." I eased onto the stool.

"You have smut-face," Kylie teased. "And you're a complete mess." She started to brush my hair back with her fingers. "Didn't you look in the mirror?"

"I just…" I wanted to run and tell Santino that I'd spend the night with him.

"Youse weren't in there that long to have sex," she whispered. "Or…is my brother a chump, like a two-pump…chump?" Kylie popped every P.

"No," I giggled. "We didn't." I actually thought it best and most discreet if Kylie just read the card. "Speaking of Santino…" I looked around for him again.

"Oh…he's in Room Two." She jerked a thumb, studying the appointment book.

"Getting a tan…?" I asked.

Kylie sighed, attacking her phone when it dinged with a text. "No. He needed to talk to…you know." Her eyes scanned the screen and she squeaked.

"A friend?" My mind swam and yet got stuck at the same time.

"Oh, he's so dirty," she giggled. "Gio, my sex god…owner of my heart and drenched—no, what's another word for drenched? I used it already." She nudged me.

I crossed my legs, had to. "Sopping…wet." I squeezed my thighs together, glancing over my shoulder to Room Two.

"Perfect! The owner of my heart and sopping wet pussy—" Her thumbs moved rapidly as she spoke.

"Kylie, who's…he has a friend in there?" I asked, highly curious.

"Well, Gio's dad—who's technically Sonny's friend—and my uncle are in there."

"The three of them are in that tiny room?" I whispered. "Why on earth would they—" It just seemed weird.

Kylie shrugged, squeezing her water bottle, making this loud and obnoxious sound.

I placed my hand on hers to stop her. "Did Santino talk to you?"

"He didn't have the chance," she replied.

I nodded. "You gotta cover for me tonight." I held back my squeal. "And I gotta borrow your phone, tell my dad I'm sleeping over your house again."

Kylie screamed in my face. "Really?"

Overexcited, I giggled madly and danced a little where I sat. "YES!"

"Oh, I love it!" Kylie hugged me. "And we're closing early, too…" She trailed off in a whisper, leaning back. "I heard from my uncle that my mom met up with my dad; meanwhile, Dad can't know Sonny's here, which is ridiculous since The Blues Brothers are in there conferring with him. Damion's…somewhere, and then you'll be—"

"I'm not gonna leave you alone." I couldn't do that.

"My uncle's supposed to take me home." She rolled her eyes. "Unless…my parents are spending the night somewhere, and I gotta sleep over Unc's place. Eh…It'll be fine. You go with Sonny—you gotta go—and I'll call Ant, my cousin."

"Why are we closing early?" I asked.

"I have no idea…Sonny flipped the sign and locked the door, and it's age before beauty in my family." She smiled, batting her eyelashes.

I hummed a reply, wondering what I'd tell my father while extending my hand. "Let me use your phone… What do I even say?"

Kylie's much better at making excuses than I am. "Can I call him?" she giggled. "Your dad loves me, and…my calling would give off the pretense that you're afraid to ask." She nodded. "It'd be more believable, I think…because you are scared to ask."

"He'll still wanna talk to me," I whispered.

"Of course…and you'll stop by your house for clothes beforehand, too." She left the stool, going toward the back. "Just in case." Kylie tilted her head toward Room Two.

About to follow after my friend, we heard a ruckus, which made us both stop in our tracks.


Thank you for reading.

Sonny is up next!