Page 20 of Ruin
Her voice is soft, calling me back to the present. She always knows how to handle me and the way I go off in my head. And now she’s doing it while holding my hand.
What does that mean for her and Tony? I don’t think she understands how her life will change if she lets me touch her. How little I will care that she has a boyfriend or whatever the fuck Tony the Hack is to her at this point.
“Tommy…”
I stroke her palm with my fingertips just once to let her know I’m with her. I’m amazed that just having physical contact with her grounds me, quiets the noise in my head. Even the noise around whether or not we will survive this transition into something more—or if I will.
“Tommy, tell me what you’re worried about.”
I blink, looking up at her. Was she reading my mind? No, she’s focused on my meeting with the dean.
“I think he’s going to tell me that I won’t be accepted into the law program.”
She frowns. “Unlikely. You finished undergrad at NYU in two years, and it only took that long because you were working with your brothers so much. You’re a certified genius, Tommy. Columbia should be begging for you to choose them.”
“Yeah, but I’m…tattoos and hoodies and combat boots, not expensive suits and loafers. Even if I were to put on the costume, I’ll always be a Demonio.”
She gives me that soft smile that instantly lowers my blood pressure by 20 points. “Law school interviews are part of the admission process. But the fact that it’s at night—that’s ared flag.”
Still holding my hand, she drags her fingernails lightly up and down my forearm thoughtfully. Just when I’m about to explode over the table, grab her, kiss her, she stops.
“Okay. Listen to me, because this is the world I grew up in. If this guy is familiar with your family and isn’t impressed by it, he’s a man of position but no power. That means he’s scared. He knows you’ve earned entrance to the law school, and he’s probably worried about your response to a denial letter, so he wants to try to talk you out of wanting to go.”
She’s thoughtful for a moment, looking at me. Fuck, her lips are—
“It’s possible that he is also self-righteous about his ethics. If he is, then his attitude will be aggressive, especially if he feels intimidated by you.”
Pay attention, Tommy. Stop staring at her lips. Listen to what she’s saying.
She squeezes my hand like she knows my mind keeps wandering. “With assholes like him, the biggest concern is appearances.”
“Okay, so what do I say when he tells me I’m not a candidate because I’m a Demonio?”
“Figure out what he wants. Then convince him that giving you want you want also gets him what he wants. Information is power, Tommy.”
“And if what he wants is me away from Columbia?”
She tilts her head thoughtfully. “It could be him who wants you out, or he could be doing someone else’s dirty work. If it’s him, he’ll be passive-aggressive from the start. If someone else is behind it, he’ll likely be nervous, maybe even conciliatory, and have a hard time saying what he’s been toldto say.”
“How do you know this?” I lightly trace the outline of an orchid on the back of her hand with my fingertip.
She shrugs, looking out the window of the coffee shop, a faraway look in her eye. “You know my father. You know how I was raised. It wasn’t hard to figure out how to manage the people who were trying to manipulate me. I learned from the best.”
She turns back to me with a small smile. “I’ve never seen you nervous before.”
“I want to get into law school, and he can take that away if he wants.”
She frowns. “Can he? You’re Tommy fucking Demonio. Have you ever let another man take something from you that you wanted?”
I pause, locking eyes with her. “Just once.”
She pales but holds my gaze, biting the inside of her lip. Something that looks like regret passes over her face, but I could give a fuck if Tony was her first. I’m going to be her last.
I continue. “Whatever this guy’s motivation is, I don’t want to strong-arm him into doing what I want even if it would work. I don’t want it that way.”
My gaze drops to her mouth. Fuck, I want to kiss her so badly.
“Okay. If you want to do this differently, I can help. Rule number one: maintain eye contact.” She taps my cheek and blushes as my gaze flits between her mouth and eyes. “Looking away can send messages you don’t want to send.”
