Page 24 of Vicious Intentions
So a nurse it is. He won’t be able to refuse me that. He’ll want to, sure. But he’ll have the good sense to keep his mouth shut.
Raffaele is already waiting for me outside the apartment, but I stop briefly in front of the two soldiers stationed at the door.
“Keep an eye on things,” I tell them quietly. “If my mother needs anything, I want to know immediately. If anything feels off, anything at all, call me.” They nod, accepting the order without question.
Raffaele and I ride the elevator down to the parking garage in complete silence. He has his earphones in, which tells me conversation is not on his agenda for the drive. He slides into the passenger seat while I take my place behind the wheel.
Before starting the car, I reach over and tap his shoulder. “Hey. How about you drive?”
He pulls one earphone out and looks at me carefully, as if waiting for a punchline, convinced I’m about to make a bad joke.
“I’m serious. Thestronzoupstairs is right. You’re seventeen now. You should have a car of your own. Why did you even bother getting your license last year if you’re never going to use it?”
“This is New York. I don’t need a car, but I do need ID,” he says flatly. “You can drive. I’m good here.”
I frown because, apparently, nothing I do, no olive branch I extend, is ever good enough for Raffaele.
I start the car and pull out of the garage.
A few minutes into the drive, Raffaele reaches into his coat pocket for his phone. Whatever he reads makes him sport the first smile I’ve seen from him all morning.
I’m fairly certain I know who that text is from. I’ve never told him that I know he’s been talking to Romano’s daughter for the better part of two years now. Knowing Raffaele, he would lose his mind for invading his privacy. Still, I can’t help but wonder what the two of them talk about so much. Especially when it seems that Annamaria is the only person who ever puts that kind of smile on his face.
Unbeknownst to my kid brother, he only consorts with the girl because I allow it. Because I see potential there. For what, I haven’t made up my mind yet.
When another incoming text rings through, and he lets out a chuckle, my curiosity, above all else, has me nudging his shoulder to get his attention.
Annoyed, he pulls one earphone out. “What?”
“Who are you texting?”
“What’s it to you?” he asks, arching a brow.
“Can’t I be curious about who you spend all your time on the phone with?”
“Be curious all you want. Doesn’t mean I have to tell you jack shit.”
Always with the attitude. I swear.
I decide to change tactics.
“If you’re being this defensive, that means it’s a girl.”
Raffaele’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second before he schools his expression.
Good. No one should ever know exactly what a man is thinking, especially when he’s hiding something.
“It’s just a friend from school,” he lies, and it’s almost convincing.
“A friend,” I repeat.
“Yeah. A friend. Can we stop with the second-degree already? Geez.” He rolls his eyes.
“I was just trying to make conversation with you, Rafe. It’s been a minute since I last checked in with you.”
“You want to check on me now?” he blurts. The way his steel-blue eyes cloud with resentment catches me off guard.
“Someone needs to look after you,” I say, my tone harsher than I intend, matching his for reasons I don’t fully understand.
