Page 30 of Dissolving Prejudice

“Nah, you had your question. Now, it’s my turn. What did you do for Dion?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “And before you tell me you were a bodyguard, don’t. Maybe some other idiot would buy it, but not me.”

Camilo ground his teeth before he lowered his eyes to the beef tartare. Swallowing hard, he grabbed his fork and reached forward.

“Make sure to mix the egg yolk with it,” I said because it would be a disaster if he didn’t have the perfect bite.

The tip of his fork pierced the egg, and the beautiful golden yolk dripped all over the rare meat. Camilo’s lips curled down with repulsion as he put a bit on his fork. He then brought the fork to his mouth, and I noticed how he held his breath. Well, I couldn’t blame him—it didn’t exactly smell like roses. Before taking the bite, he closed his eyes and took a moment. Then, like a good boy, he parted his lips and shoved the food inside his mouth. He didn’t chew and instead immediately swallowed, his lips twisting the whole time.

Gagging, he quickly covered his mouth. “F-fuck,” he muttered, reaching for his wine and emptying his glass.

“How was it?”

“Fuck you,” he hissed, sticking his tongue out and trying to clean the remaining tartare from it.

Yack.

It was amusing, and while it was mean of me, he deserved it. And a lot worse.

“Come on, ask me a question,” I chuckled and enjoyed the pure power I had over him.

“You and that idiot Jordan, since when are you together?” he asked while pouring himself a new glass.

“Almost two years.”

While Jordan had been by my side since the start of my rehabilitation, we hadn’t started dating then. It had taken me time to accept that Camilo was gone and that I should move on. Yet, here I was, four years later, sitting across the table from him.

“And you’re already getting married ?” He frowned.

“When it feels right, why wait?” I answered his question even though it was the second one. “Besides, too soon?” I huffed. “You asked me to marry you after a few months.” My words were like a double-edged sword that hurt us both in the same breath.

Camilo’s face went blank before he broke our eye contact, and I saw the rigidness of his tensed jaw. He didn’t say a word and instead stayed quiet—until he didn’t.

“So you’re in love with him?”

“You’ve already asked a hell of a lot of question—”

“Just answer the damn question, Shay-Lee,” he snapped, slamming his hand on the table.

Have I gone too far?

“And what if I am?” I sneered. “Jealous?”

“Is that your question?” He tilted his head, dark eyes challenging me.

“Sure.”

“Fuck yes, I am,” he growled, unapologetic as always, then leaned closer.

“Good,” I hissed back. My butt lifted off the chair as I leaned forward until we were in each other’s faces, close enough that I could count every new scar that had been added to his handsome face.

“My turn to ask a question,” he said, and my eyes focused on the way his lips moved.

“Ask away.”

“Where’s my necklace?” His eyes locked on my neck.

My temperature rose under his intense stare, and I felt like a gazelle in a hunter’s snare.

I knew immediately what he was talking about—his mother’s necklace. The one he’d given me instead of a ring under the moonlight.