Page 50 of Better Left Unsaid

“I don’t know,” Carmine responded, swiping his hand down his jaw, “there could be trouble in paradise. Dom looks upset.”

“Only because you’re pissing me off.” More like getting on my last nerve.

Vito laughed and slapped me on the back. “Relax, man. If you really want to talk, we can listen.”

“Not me. I don’t listen. Ask any of the women I’ve been out with this week alone,” Carmine said as he leaned against the hood of a black sedan.

“You’re a tool,” I noted.

“Hey, that’s what they say, too. Usually when I don’t call them back, actually. But they know the rules. One and done. A man needs variety. They say it’s the spice of life.”

Vito shook his head and pushed Carmine off the car. “Get up. This isn’t about you, so let Dom talk if he wants.”

I ran a hand through my hair. “I don’t,” I clarified. I really, really didn’t. There was nothing to talk about, especially where Maria was concerned.

“Does this have to do with the fact that you love her?” Vito guessed. “Are you planning on finally telling her?”

I rolled my eyes. “What makes you think I love her?” I did love her, but that wasn’t the point. How damn obvious was I? Or was I only obvious to my family because they knew me so well? And if I was that obvious, then why did it seem like Maria had no fucking clue—unless she was faking it, and she did know but wanted to pretend otherwise. I shook my head. There was no way she’d do that. Not to me.

Carmine harrumphed, cocking a brow. “We have eyes,” he said in answer to my question.

“Nice,” I replied under my breath.

“You want to know what I think?” Carmine asked, kicking rocks on the ground.

“I really don’t.”

“I think you’ve put yourself in a shit position, and you have two options. You can either use what the good Lord gave you and fess up that you love her, or you can get over your feelings for her.” And apparently what I wanted mattered not at all because Carmine still told me what he thought.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. Fine, I’d bite. “Let’s say I love her.”

“You do,” Vito spat back.

I growled. “Let’s say,” I repeated. “How exactly do you propose I do that? You act like I can sneeze and blow the feelings I have for her right out my nose.”

Vito nodded. “He makes a good point. Love knows no bounds.”

Carmine’s face scrunched up, and he pointed at Vito. “First of all, you’re like a walking poet. It’s fucking weird.” Then he pointed to me. “As for you, Dommy boy, it’s real simple. Get under as many women as you need to so your brain can be wiped clean of Maria and whatever attracts you to her.”

Everything. Everything attracted me to her, and Carmine gave some of the shittiest advice in the world. “Good thing you don’t give advice on the daily. You suck at it.”

Vito pointed ahead. “Let’s walk. I like that blue SUV up ahead.”

Meanwhile, Carmine cracked a joke about how Vito was now interested in an SUV (and not just any SUV, but the biggest SUV they had). Yeah, he screwed up big time. “I’m better off than the both of you, so maybe you should be taking advice from me.”

“How in the hell do you figure?” I asked, suddenly very interested to see his reasoning on this one.

Carmine shrugged a shoulder. “Simple. Vito’s marriage is doomed, and you’ve been in love with Maria so long you can hardly think straight. The two of you are so screwed up it isn’t even funny.”

“My marriage is not doomed,” Vito argued. “Marriage takes work. Something you know nothing about.”

Carmine held up his hands in surrender. “Whatever you say, man.”

“Let’s just get back to picking out a car for Lisa Marie, okay?” I asked, silently wishing time would fly by.

Vito looked in the windows of the blue SUV, whistling in appreciation. He snapped his fingers and continued checking it out. “Now, this I like. What do you guys think?” he asked, shifting the conversation.

“Yeah, it’s great,” Carmine and I said in unison, for what was probably very different reasons. For me, I was distracted, thinking about Maria. And all the ways my life could be different if I would just pull the trigger and tell her how I feel. For one, maybe I could stop being jealous of men who came around and had the balls enough to ask her out. Like Paolo.

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