I washed my mouth and face, and when I straightened up, he was still staring. “Why are you here?” I asked. “You haven’t answered that yet.”

“I don’t know yet.”

I opened my mouth and shut it again. Great, I was being stalked by a weirdo who happened to be part of a dangerous crime family. That wouldn’t end badly at all. I trudged past him and walked to my bedroom. As I stepped inside, Penelope shot out. He hated being confined. I walked to my dresser and snagged a pair of clean boxers, shimmying as I dragged them up my hips. I turned, and my heart almost fell out of my ass. My back slammed into the dresser. Enzo was right there, silently hovering.

“Fuck!” I snapped. “Will you go home already? You’re killing my buzz.”

Enzo reached out and touched my scar again, mapping it with his fingers. It was like he was obsessed with the thing. Just like the tattoo, I knew he wouldn’t let it go until I explained what it was. I gritted my teeth.

“Old injury,” I muttered. “Got into it with my old man one day, and he knocked me on my ass a few times. No big deal.”

“Your father the—” Enzo’s gaze met mine, and he blinked a few times. “Nevermind.”

“What were you going to say?” I pushed.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said as he reached out and held the side of my neck. “Who was the girl? She yours?”

I got whiplash from the sudden change in topics and gawked at him. “Who?”

“The girl. Brown skin, big eyes, short little dress. The one at Blu,” he said impatiently as I continued to stare. “You were all over her.” His grip tightened on my throat. “Who was she?”

My stomach did a little flip as danger bells rang in my head. Was he jealous? Already? After the hotel, I’d thought it was a one-time thing, one night of intense, chaotic pleasure before we’d go back to our separate life paths and clash in the future. But here he was, standing in my bedroom, the pressure of his hand on my neck grounding me.

“A friend,” I said finally.

“Her name?”

A shiver passed over me. No way in hell was I going to tell Enzo anything about Chelsea. The look in his eyes screamed a warning. She’d end up at the bottom of a river somewhere.

“Why?” I asked him.

“I just want to know.”

I sealed my lips. There was no way I could tell him that I knew exactly who he was, so that was never going to happen. He’d figure out that I was investigating him. And that would be a death sentence.

“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “Like I said, she’s a friend. Besides, she’s so gay I wouldn’t even turn her head.”

Enzo stepped forward, erasing any semblance of space between us. My body overheated, and I tried to take a step back. However, I was still forced against the dresser. Enzo’s body pressed against mine and my heart decided to speed up like it was a runaway train aimed at disaster.