Page 50 of Vicious Games

Probably something I picked up from my dads. They do this kind of sappy shit for my mom all the time, and I guess it rubbed off on me.

Why I’m doing it for Frankie is beyond me.

“Get in, Frankie,” I sigh. “We’re losing precious daylight, and I still have shit to do.”

“Some new prank?”

“It’s brewing,” I smirk. “Just needs a few more weeks to perfect it.”

The next prank Enzo and I pull off has to be legendary—bold enough to be unforgettable but clean enough to leave no trace. The kind of stunt that has everyone talking, even if no one can prove it was us. But pulling off something that smooth takes time. And lately? Time’s been in short supply.

Enzo’s been obsessed with his priest.

And me? I’ve been too busy… tutoring.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Once she’s safely inside, I shut Frankie’s door and jog around to the driver’s seat. As soon as I shove the key into the ignition, I notice she’s still wrestling with her seatbelt. After a few seconds of fumbling, she lets out a frustrated sigh and shrugs at me.

“It’s fine. I’ll go without.”

“The fuck you are.” I arch a brow. “You do know that in most car accidents, it’s the passenger who takes the brunt of it, right? Safety first, O’Malley.”

Without thought, I lean over and grab the belt, but the second I do, her scent hits me all at once. Vanilla and cream, with just a hint of spiced cardamom. Unexpectedly piercing yet tender like a sharp tongue hiding a kind heart.

My fingers hesitate on the buckle as my throat tightens, my chest suddenly feeling too damn small to hold in all its parts. For a second, I forget what the hell I’m even doing and force myself to focus, clicking the belt into place and pulling back.

“There. See?” I fake a teasing grin. “Not so hard, was it?”

Frankie shakes her head, eyes locked straight ahead, her cheeks flushed pink.

Interesting.

A pissed-off Frankie is a menace to society.

But a flustered Frankie?

That’s a sight I wouldn’t mind seeing more often.

I file that little discovery away into my treasure chest and start the car, pulling out of the lot.

Before I can take her to our new tutoring spot, I have to make a quick stop at my grandfather’s gym. Normally, I drive like a bat out of hell, but today I force myself to stick to the speed limit—no point in scaring her off just yet. We pull up to Nano’s Gym a full twenty minutes later than I would’ve on my own. The second Frankie spots the sign out front, she scowls at me.

“A gym? Really? Is this some kind of joke?”

“Am I laughing?” I wink at her. “Just sit tight. I’ll be back in a jiff.”

I hop out before she can argue and head inside, already knowing exactly where to find Marcello.

Sure enough, my brother’s in the ring, pummeling some poor bastard’s face.

“Yo!” I call out, only for his trainer to immediately glare at me.

“Your brother’s busy.”

Marcello throws one last brutal punch, dropping his opponent flat on his back.

“Now I’m not,” he says, hopping out of the ring and strolling toward me. “What do you need?”

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