Page 8 of Tilly
As soon as she drops her cutlery onto her plate, I push to my feet. “You finished?”
“Uh, yes. Thank you for breakfast. It was really good.” She smiles up at me. Her expression so fucking innocent.
“Come on. I’ll take you home,” I say. And wait for her to stand.
“It was, uh, nice seeing you, Rafe.” She dips her chin at him as she moves closer to me.
“You too, Tilly. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again soon,” he says.
Placing my hand on her lower back, I lead Tilly into the garage. Again, she doesn’t blink an eye at the range of luxury vehicles we pass before I guide her over to the Cullinan. It’s one of my newest cars, but also the one she’s going to be the most comfortable inside. I open the passenger door for her but don’t move back like I should. Tilly squeezes past me, her body pressing up against mine. Her breath hitches and again her cheeks turn fucking pink.
It’s becoming my new favorite color. That shade of pink.
I close the door and shake my head. I can’t afford to think about her like that. I take my time walking around the back of the car. I need to get my shit under control. I need my dick to get on board with the fact that we can’t have this girl. Ever.
“You want me to talk to your father? Tell him the whole thing was a misunderstanding?” I ask as I slide into the driver’s seat.
“What? No. Do not do that,” she says, her eyes suddenly wide. “It’s fine. I’ve got it under control.”
“Even if they do try something, you know your mother and uncle will have those charges thrown out quicker than the ink can dry on the paperwork.”
“I know. I’m not worried about that.” Tilly’s eyes are focused straight ahead as she appears to do everything in her power to not look at me.
“What are you worried about then?”
“It’s stupid.”
“You’ve met Emillio. I’ve spent my life around stupid. And you are the furthest thing from it,” I tell her.
She turns and smiles at me, like I’ve just hung the fucking moon for her. Fuck, that’s a dangerous smile. “What if people find out? My reputation will be ruined…”
“Anyone who knows you wouldn’t believe it, and anyone who does believe it ain’t worth your time, Matilda.”
“You’re right.”
I pull up to her apartment building a short ride later, more than a little thankful when she doesn’t ask how I know where she lives in the first place. She opens the door and I call out her name, waiting for her to turn around and look at me.
“Don’t come to Sin again. It’s not a place for girls like you,” I tell her.
Hurt shines in her eyes. I can’t focus on that, though. Not right now. Right now, I need to keep this girl away from me. Away from my fucking club. She doesn’t respond as she quietly shuts the door and walks into her building.
“Why the fuck are your feet on my desk?” I shove at Emillio’s legs as I round the corner before dropping my ass into my office chair. I came straight to the club after dropping Tilly off.
“Ouch! What the hell is your problem?” he groans.
“Right now? You,” I grunt as I fire up my computer.
“Me? Nah, I think your problem comes more in the form of a five-foot-nothing Italian princess.” He grins.
I don’t bother dignifying his taunt with a response. “I need Murphy’s schedule. I want to know when he’s working his next shift.”
“Why?”
“Because I fucking said so. That’s why.” I glare at Emilio.
“Okay, jeez. No need to get your panties in a twist, bro.” He holds up his hands before dropping them to his own laptop. “Don’t forget we’ve got that meetup with Hernando.”
“I’m aware.”
