“I’m sure I’ll see you around campus.” I slid off the bed, threw on my shorts and tank top but no bra, and walked him to the bedroom door. “And it’s not like you’d call anyway.”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want it,” he shot back.
The living room was barren, except for the sounds coming from Silvia’s room. She had some nerve, complaining about me.
I ignored his remark as I opened the door, holding it for him. “Good night, Luca.”
He leaned in to steal another kiss and then gave me one of his panty-dropper smiles. “Good night, Bella. Sweet dreams.”
After I closed the door and locked it, I walked into my bedroom, climbed into bed, and slipped under the covers with my clothes still on.
What was I thinking?
I rolled over, snuggling my face in the blankets. They were soft, warm, and smelled like home. They also stank of citrus and sex. Before I could dwell on our date, my head hit the pillow, and I fell asleep.
Chapter Eight
LUCA
Like most Saturday mornings, after a long night of partying, the house looked like a bomb had detonated inside it. But, if that had happened, at least we wouldn’t have to clean it up.
I stopped at the bottom of the landing and scanned the massive living room. Beer cans, liquor bottles, and empty cups littered the floor. Two girls slept with their heads mashed together, their bare breasts on display.
A few brothers who lived in the house were spread throughout the first floor. For the most part, I noticed a bunch of randos who needed to leave.
I pressed my fingers to my lips and whistled until I saw some movement. “If you don’t live here, get the fuck out.”
I walked past the half-awake, still drunk people and into the dining room, finding a similar situation. Annoyed, even though this was the norm, I whistled again and repeated my warning.
Dirty Dan peeled his shaggy blond head from one of the six long mahogany dining tables and looked over at me with one eye open. “What the fuck, Prez? Can’t you see I’m trying to sleep?”
I clapped my hands together, wide-awake at the thought of my date with Izzie. “Kegs and eggs. Time to wake up, bro.”
He perked up at the mention of our weekend post-hangover celebration. Whenever we had leftover beer, either Mark or I would cook eggs and breakfast meats for the house.
One morning, Hunter had sat between two kegs with a plate of scrambled eggs and started laughing. Still shot from the night before, he’d mumbled, “I love me some kegs and eggs.”
From there, we’d started a new tradition.
The kitchen had tall white cabinets that reached the ceiling. A huge island at the center of the room had a collection of gray-and-white pendant lights suspended over it. Between the bar on the opposite wall and the marble counter, we could comfortably seat twenty people and still have room to move.
I cleaned up the mess left over from the night before and then started cooking.
Everyone rose to the smell of bacon and sausage, the house now coming to life. The boys started up with their walk-of-shame chant, and it went on for about ten minutes.
Once the girls cleared out, they filed into the kitchen, and the beer began flowing. Within the first twenty minutes, they were pounding shots of hot sauce. Sadly, that was normal.
Mark sat across from me at the bar, chomping on a piece of crispy bacon. I chewed my food, a big fuck-you grin on my face.
He raised an eyebrow at me. “What’s up with you this morning?”
“I’m just taking a second to savor the fact that I won the bet. Izzie agreed to go on a date with me today.”
He made a gagging sound, practically choking on his food. “You’re going on a date? Gross. Since when do you date chicks?”
This was the exact reason I’d waited to tell him. “She’s not the kind of girl you can talk into jerking you off during class. Chicks like Izzie take work, and she sure as shit wouldn’t have fallen for a line like, Come up to my room, and do shots with me.”
He wiped his mouth with his forearm and gulped down the rest of his beer. “I tried at Mickey’s, man. She shut me down hard. No matter what I said, she would give me that look, like she was chewing on glass.”
Mark raised a plastic cup in the air, and I held up my coffee mug. I couldn’t show up to her dorm room, smelling like alcohol, even though I could use a shot to take the edge off.
“Until you fuck her, you haven’t won. The bet is still on, and may the best man win.”
Izzie wasn’t a prize, not to me anyway. If Silvia hadn’t banged on the wall, I would have won the bet already even though I had no intention on collecting from Mark. Despite what I felt on the inside, I couldn’t let on to what I was thinking without hearing a rash of shit.
I nodded, accepting his challenge. “You will regret this.”
Izzie opened her door in fuzzy UGG slippers and the jean shorts and shirt she’d worn the night before. Her curls stuck up all over the place, mussed up from sleep.
She yawned, stretching her hands over her head, and leaned against the doorframe. “Hey…what are you doing here?”
My heart sank to my stomach, but I hid my disappointment well. “We have a date. You wanted to eat lunch at Tony Luke’s. Ring a bell?”
She scratched the back of her head and made that adorable pouty face I couldn’t get enough of. A few seconds passed before her blue eyes lit with realization. “Oh my God, I totally suck. I’m so tired. I forgot to set my alarm. Tony Luke’s does sound amazing right now. Perfect hangover food.”
Izzie moved her hand over her grumbling stomach, pulling up her shirt in the process. I peeked at her exposed flesh, but once she noticed, she tugged it back down.
“I need to get a shower though. Do you mind waiting?”
“Not at all.” I pushed the door open and followed her into the small living room.
It had two couches facing each other separated by a coffee table and a flat screen hung on the wall. The tiny kitchen reminded me of an efficiency apartment. We eye-fucked the shit out of each other, aware of the several feet that divided us. An island could have separated us, and it would not have mattered.
Every time I glanced at her bare legs in those booty-hugging shorts, she would slap them together. I flashed a wicked grin and folded my arms over my chest. After a minute of awkward sexual tension, she walked away from me and into her bedroom without a word.
She reappeared a minute later with a towel over her shoulder. “We don’t have a lot of channels,” she said, “but the remote is probably somewhere between the couch cushions if you want to watch TV. We have Netflix, too.”
I grinned. “I’d rather get in the shower with you.”
She stormed toward me, her hands on her hips, looking sexy as fuck. Every time she got angry, my dick would respond, as if she could summon it with one glance.
“You get three strikes, Luca. And I’m not the type of person to give second chances. This is an olive branch. Act like an asshole, and screw this up, and you might as well forget I even exist because I sure as hell will forget you do. Got it?”
The seriousness in her voice made me flinch. Now, she acted as though we didn’t even know each other.
“Got it,” I said.
She slammed the bathroom door behind her.
An hour later, we parked in front of my childhood home in the heart of South Philly. The streets were crowded, cars buzzing by in search of parking spots. In the city, parking was near impossible to find without ruining your car or starting a fight.
My old neighbor, Alonzo, a short Italian man with dark hair on the verge of graying, greeted me by pulled me into a hug. “Luca, my boy,” he said. “It’s been far too long. I see too much of your brothers and not enough of you.”
“Thanks, Alonzo. It’s always nice to see you.” I patted him on the back and stuffed a few hundreds into his pocket. “Tell Anna and Gabriella I said hello.”
“Sure thing, kid.”
His lips parted, and without looking, I knew that he’d noticed Izzie.
I turned around, watching her long leg creep out of the Benz.
Every time we had come to a red light, I couldn’t stop staring. In jean shorts and an off-the-shoulder white peasant top, her skin glowed. Her nipples poked through her bra, and when the sunlight hit her just right, I thought I could see her pink flesh. Or maybe I just envisioned it.
And I’d already forgotten to open her door. Total bonehead move.
She needed a new and improved Luca, not the old womanizer. Still, I had manners. Ma had taught me that much. And me not showing Izzie respect would have set my mother on a diatribe about how to treat a woman.
I ran over to Izzie, held out my hand, and pulled her out of the car. A smile played across her lips when our chests touched. Her eyes fell to my lips, and her breathing hitched for a second. Then, she stepped back, as if acknowledging she’d made a mistake. No girl had ever given me a sense of excitement and inadequacy all at the same time.
She stared up at the brick row house, confused. “Where are we?”
“This is where I grew up. And that’s Alonzo. He’s lived here since before I was born.”
I pointed to him, and he nodded before stepping inside his house.
“Shall we?” I climbed two concrete steps and opened the screen door.
Izzie held it open, her right breast touching my back as I pushed the key into the entrance door lock. I didn’t want to move. Feeling her warmth, a powerful sensation I desperately wanted to cling to, made my heart speed up.
We walked into the house, and I watched her face as she glanced around. Straight ahead, stairs led to the second floor. The living room sat in the front with its windows facing the street. Each room ran into the other, except for the kitchen, which divided the dining room by a wall.
Izzie turned to face me, one eyebrow raised. “I don’t understand. Why am I here?”
“Think of it as a trip down memory lane.”
She set off toward the kitchen, making herself at home, and along the way, she glanced at family portraits on the walls. On top of a wooden hutch in the dining room, she picked up a picture of my brothers and me. Her eyes lit up, and she turned to me. “Where was this taken?”
I glanced at the silver frame and studied the chunky ten-year-old version of myself. A lot had changed since then. Cured meats hung from the ceiling above our heads, and silly smiles were plastered on our faces. “An Italian deli on Ninth Street where Ma likes to buy her meat from. Ma used to take my brothers and me once a week. Then, we’d go to the bakery for fresh bread and pastries. It was kind of our thing to do with her every weekend.”
Izzie smiled and hugged the photo against her chest before setting it back down. “Your mother is sweet. I always liked her,” she mumbled, reaching for another frame. “I wish I had a mother to do things like that with…” Her voice trailed off as she collected her thoughts.
“You were so cute when you were little.” She flashed a quick smile at me over her shoulder.
Izzie lifted another frame with a photo of my entire family sitting around the table at a charity fundraiser with Izzie and her grandfather. My father had a glass raised in the air, and Angelo Rinaldi was next to him, leading the toast.
“Do you remember the time we got lost in the wine cellar?”
I moved forward and leaned my hip against the hutch, flashing a broad grin. “How could I forget? You were the first girl I ever kissed.”
“Yeah.” She sighed. “You were my first kiss, too. I thought about you for a long time after that night. But Grandfather said we had to cut ties with your family.”
Her gaze fell over the pictures, and as she stared at each one, her smile widened. I loved to see her smile.
Back then, girls hadn’t looked at me the same way Izzie had, not until I’d lost all the weight—or baby fat, as Ma had called it. I’d earned the nickname Meatball as a child, but now, I was far from that awkward, overweight kid Izzie had known ten years ago.
I hooked my arm around her waist, directing her toward the kitchen. “I thought about you for a long time. I used to ask Ma to stop by Rinaldi Manor when we were in your area, but a lot went on with my family that wasn’t suitable for your grandfather’s image. Ma didn’t tell me about it until I was older.”
She nodded, as if she remembered the bloodbath that had occurred for almost a year in Philadelphia.
Jimmy “Scags” Scaglione, the acting boss at the time, had had differences with the local gangs who dealt drugs for him. They’d refused to pay the cost of doing business on our streets, starting a war that had pitted his own men against him in the end. My father was one of those men.
I tugged on the refrigerator handle, thrilled to find a row of Cokes and bottled water. A few of Ma’s dishes were on the shelves, which meant she’d been over here, baking for my brothers, who still lived in the house.
Fisting two of cans of soda in my hands, I set them on the bar in front of Izzie.
She popped the top of the soda can and took a sip. “This thing between us can’t happen, and I think you know why.”
I didn’t need her to spell out her reasons because Izzie knew more about my family than most girls.
“I haven’t met a girl who didn’t like me until you.”
Izzie stared through the glass-paneled door leading to a small backyard. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t like you, Luca. It’s just, this could never work. We’re so different. You can’t just fuck me, smack me on the ass, and send me on my way. That’s not how I roll. The other night…” She gulped down another sip of soda and turned her head. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m not interested in being another girl you use and throw away like trash. And this is a conflict of interest.”
The corners of my mouth curled, but I fought hard to contain my laughter. She knew me better than I had thought. Smart girls were hard to navigate, mostly because they were always ten steps ahead. But Izzie wasn’t just smart and confident; she was a mystery.
“Do you really think I would have taken any girl to my family’s restaurant? I know it’s down the street from school, but I’ve never willingly taken anyone there, other than my fraternity brothers. I can’t figure you out. One minute, I think you like me, and the next…” I sighed and flattened my palms on the counter, holding her gaze. “What I’m trying to say is, I want to get to know you, if you’ll let me.”
“Okay then, give me the tour.” She threw her empty can into the trash, one-handed.
Once we reached the top floor, she brushed her curls behind her ear and peeked into the first bedroom. “Whose room is this?” Izzie pointed at the walls covered with rock-band posters and half-naked chicks.
“That would be my brother Anthony. He’s the oldest of the twins by two minutes, so he got the bigger room.”
She laughed. “I remember Anthony. He was so serious when we were kids. And he followed your dad around, like a puppy dog.”
“Yep. Anthony hasn’t changed much since then, and he’s still my father’s favorite. One day, he’ll take over the family business.” I followed behind her to the next door, and before she could ask, I said, “That’s Mario’s room.”
“Where’s Luigi’s?” She spun around, laughing, and stopped so fast that we bumped into each other. Her chest rose and fell against mine, neither of us attempting to move. “Do you remember how much Mario hated that joke? He was so much fun to mess with.”
“It’s hard to forget. Mario beat the shit out of me for a week just for laughing as you made fun of him.” I slid my hand onto her waist to test the waters, and she sucked in a deep breath.
“Where’s your room?”
“Last door on the right.” I choked back the idiotic thoughts rolling around in my brain. For a second, I almost said something so stupid that she might have slapped me on the face. Good thing I’d held my tongue.
She turned the handle and walked inside, not speaking until after she absorbed eve
ry detail of my old bedroom. I slipped my hand in hers, the sparks between us more intense than before. Every part of me wanted to kiss her as she peeked up at me with those hazy blue eyes.
Her features softened with her curls relaxing around her face. The angelic girl in front of me had so many layers to her, and I couldn’t wait to peel each one back.
“Luca…” she said.
I made a humming sound.
“You’re standing on my foot.”
“Oh, shit.” I stepped back, feeling like a complete moron.
Real smooth.
And just like that, our moment was over.
We didn’t speak as we got in the car and went on our way to eat. To sit with someone and not talk but have an odd sense of comfort felt nice. For once, I didn’t feel the need to make small talk just to get in her pants. She’d also made it clear that wasn’t about to happen. And I was okay with that.
I parked in front of Tony Luke’s at Front and Oregon. From a distance, it looked like an old metal diner. But, up close, the takeout-style restaurant had a long open window where you could watch them make your food. A line had started forming down the pavement, crowds of people huddled under the awning. They had benches off to the left, already packed with a sea of red-and-white Phillies jerseys. We were among the few not dressed with Philadelphia pride.
“My dad usually takes me here after a game, depending on his schedule. It’s kind of our tradition when he’s in town.” She leaned on the counter to check out the menu even though she had decided on what she wanted to order before we’d arrived. “I love that they have so much more than Pat’s or Geno’s. I mean, cheesesteaks are awesome, but nothing compares to a chicken cutlet with red gravy and provolone.”
She bounced around with a childish enthusiasm that made me thankful I’d poured my heart out to Lila. No amount of money could thank her properly for this gift. And the worst part was, I never would’ve thought of it on my own.
Izzie grazed her hand against mine to get my attention. “What are you getting? I’m so hungry that I could eat one of everything.”
Corrupt Me Page 7
