Page 77 of The Crowned Garza
Yeah, there’s no understanding him.
At dinner, he evades every probing question I lob at him and shuts the door entirely on the subject of his virginity. Frustrating, to say the least. His mood seems to change with the sun. The later it gets, the more shuttered and stoic he becomes. Thoughtful and reticent.
Almost immediately after dinner, his phone becomes a hot line and all his attention is stolen. He must’ve had “Do Not Disturb” activated for set hours on his phone because it’s been quiet all day up until this point.
Our time here has clearly come to an end, and I’m dragging my feet about it. He shoots down all my attempts at convincing him to let me stay the night and eventually lures me into taking a shower with him. Then coaxes me into getting dressed with him in the closet. Because I’m a lust-addled sucker.
Watching him transform from one person to another is the most fascinating thing. I’m not sure who I spent the day with. It wasn’t Guy and it wasn’t Santo. But someone in between. Someone with a little more softness. Someone with warmth, tenderness, and affection. Someone wholikes me.
And that someone has gone back into hiding.
Right now, though, in his fitted black suit and his damp hair slicked back, with threat in the square of his shoulders and the lift of his chin, there’s no doubt about who this man is.
Don Luciani.
And I don’t know who I’m more attracted to.
Guy, Saint, or the mafia don?
HE’S ON HISphone for most of the drive home. If my phone rang that often, I’d go mad. I don’t know how he does it.
When we arrive at my house, he doesn’t get out of the car or offer to walk me to my door.
Hesitant to leave, I ask, “Can I spend my next day off with you?”
He reaches over and dusts his knuckles against my cheek. “Go on inside,regina.”
His phone rings again, and I want to rip it off the dash and smash it out the window.
“I’m noticing how you answer every single call that comes in from all these people who can’t seem to do a damn thing without you. But whenIcall you, I’m ignored. And I don’t want a damn thing from you, but…whatever.”
“Go inside, Tillie. I have to go.”
Irritated, I get out with a huff and slam the door with more force than necessary, flouncing off. But then stop short. Strange. This moment feels eerily final.
With a pivot, I jog around the car to the driver’s side, then slap my palm against the window until he opens the door.
Before I can get a word out, he reaches for me and crushes his mouth to mine.
He kisses me like it’s the first time. Like it’s the last time. Like there’s a bottom to this chasm and we’ve reached it.
Breaking the kiss, he whispers against my lips, “I really have to leave,regina.”
“Okay.” Reluctantly, I back away. “Call me tomorrow?”
He taps “Unmute”on his phone and resumes his conversation as he closes the car door.
I should’ve read between the lines when he told me he had to “leave.” I should’ve paid attention to how he purposely didn’t make me any promises.
Because once I was safely inside my house and he drove off…
He ghosted me for an entire year.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“He’s trouble.”
Santo
