Wicked shakes his head slightly, stepping even further into my space. His bare chest brushes my cleavage and my heart slams against my ribcage.

“Maybe because we have.”

As soon as he releases my chin, the trance that we were both locked in explodes around us and I’m back in the now. An ache forms deep in my belly and I rest my hand around my chin as if to replace his. It’s not quite the same.

Pulling Poppy up with one hand, he moves across to the archway. “Night, Ruby.” I wait until they’ve both disappeared up the stairs before I can finally breathe again. Pulling out a barstool, I sink down and run my fingers through my hair.

When I was old enough to understand what my father did and who my family was, I swore to myself that I wouldn’t willingly get with anyone in the mafia. I saw what it did to my mother, my aunts, and knew I never wanted that life, but I also knew what it felt like. I have been living with it all of my life, and if I could get out, I would. But even with that, I have been around attractive people all of my life, and I don’t just mean appearance. I swore I wouldn’t dabble within the business, or even at school. I pictured myself getting into Harvard and graduating with a bachelor’s in art and architecture. I wanted to open my own studio and paint and draw and listen to music all day while designing homes. I wanted to marry an accountant and enjoy the white picket fence lifestyle with the basic husband.

I wanted us to be happy.

Obviously, it was all a dream so far out of reach that I knew it wasn’t attainable in this lifetime.

Men have never fazed me.

Until now.

After waiting for the Uber, I grab the bag of grease from Oscar and someone I don’t recognize near the front door.

“Ruby, this is Val.” Oscar gestures to the man standing beside him. He’s not much older than me. This isn’t an uncommon thing. Papa generally has the younger guys on tap. He says they’re more disposable. Cold-hearted prick.

“Hi…” I open the bag. “You guys hungry?”

“We’re good.” Val smiles at me with his eyes.