by Rayne, Piper
I recognize a few faces from the building. Everyone we pass smiles nicely at Carmelo and shakes his hand or slaps his shoulder as if he’s been voted prom king. You’d think he was the damn mayor of New York, for God’s sake. Which makes me feel as though my time here is wasted. He owns the market of our small office building.
“There you are.” Annie approaches me, eyeing Carmelo before swinging her arm through mine and pulling me over to the bar and what looks like an older version of Carm. “This is Enzo,” she says, pride in her voice as she runs her hand down his arm.
He turns from ordering a drink and flashes a smile as bright as his brother’s. His warm brown eyes don’t have the same desire that’s laced through his brother’s blues.
“Enzo, this is Bella,” Annie says.
His gaze stays trained on mine as he extends his hand. “Nice to finally meet you.”
I shake his hand. “You as well.”
“Can I grab you a drink?” he asks.
The bartender places a beer and a glass of wine on the bar top, and Enzo hands Annie the wine. She smiles sweetly at him with a thanks.
“I’ll have what Annie’s having,” I say.
Enzo talks to the bartender, pulling more cash from a money clip in his pocket.
“Here, let me.” I open my purse.
“Nonsense.” Annie waves me off and shoots Enzo a look.
He smiles and looks at me. “She’s the boss.”
The bartender pours my wine, and Enzo passes it to me.
“Come on. I’ll introduce you to everyone.” Annie links her arm with mine again and walks us toward a group of people.
“I see I’m only good enough for some drinks, huh?” Enzo says to our backs.
Annie swivels around but keeps walking. “I’ll thank you later.” She winks.
“Spare everyone your flirting,” Carmelo says to Annie when he reaches us. He eyes my drink and his smile tips down a bit but recovers quickly. “I see someone beat me to it.”
“Your brother,” Annie says.
“Next one is on me.” He solidifies that with a wink that makes my insides go gooey.
I shake off the feeling and allow Annie to take me into the middle of a circle of people. She politely interrupts to introduce me to employees of the accounting firm in our building. I nod, chitchat, and hand out a few cards. One guy asks me if it’s my assistant who has the different color hair and dark glasses. I get the feeling he wants to pry for more information, like if she’s single, but he doesn’t ask.
Annie gets pulled away by the owner of the accounting firm, and shortly after, everyone finds lanes to bowl. Enzo and Carmelo are razzing one another in the far lane. Both of them have pushed up their sleeves and are practicing.
A guy I haven’t met walks up to me. “I’ve been asked to grab you. You’ll be bowling with Carmelo Mancini.”
“And you are?” I’ve seen the guy around, though he’s usually frantic and has his phone glued to his ear.
“I’m Justin. Carm’s assistant.” The blond-haired kid—and I say kid because he can’t be more than twenty-one yet—holds out his hand.
I take his hand and shake. “Nice to meet you.”
“I was hoping Max would come tonight,” he says as he nods for me to go first.
My gut twists over the fact that I have to bowl with Carmelo, but my guess is Annie planned this. She’s obviously going to bowl with Enzo, and since she’s my new insta best friend and ally, I’m not going to argue.
“Yeah, she’s not much of a people person,” I say to explain Max’s absence.
He chuckles. “I kind of got that when I ran into her the other day.”
Something in his body language tells me she made an impression on him, but Max is a complicated creature. I’m not going to get this guy’s hopes up. With no piercings or tattoos, he’s definitely not her type. Not to mention he’s younger than the guys she usually hangs with.
“She doesn’t bite, but she has been known to growl,” I say.
He chuckles again, his hand running through his long blond strands. “Oh… well…”
I wonder how a guy like him can work for a cool and calculated guy like Carmelo Mancini.
We reach the lane Carmelo and Enzo are bowling in.
“And there you go.” All the pins fall, and Carmelo turns around, using two of his fingers like guns, shooting them at Enzo. “I so have you.”
Enzo stands, shaking his head. “Sit down, little brother. Let me show you how it’s done.” He grabs a ball.
“Here you go, Miss Scott,” Justin says as if he’s delivering me to royalty.
“Thank you,” I say politely, wondering where the hell Annie is. I don’t want to be stuck with these two brothers who might just wrestle their way down the lane.
With a sigh, I sit on the black leather bench, cross my legs, and sip my wine. The people in the other lanes are filling out their score sheets with their player names.
Carmelo sits next to me. “You done with that yet?”
“No, and regardless, I’m not going to have a second.”
“Water? Soda? A big pretzel with cheese? Whatever you want.”
I study him for a second. He looks genuine about wanting to get me whatever I want, but why? He treated me like the enemy the first time we met. What’s his game plan? I know he has one, because a man like Carmelo isn’t nice for no reason.
“I’m good. Thank you.”
“Okay.” Enzo claps and dramatically points at the lane. “I think that ties us up.”
His smug look has me laughing.
Annie walks up from behind us. “You two are ridiculous. Let’s do girls versus boys before you two end up in a fistfight.”
“Deal,” Carmelo says.
Enzo crosses his arms. “No way. Couples.”
Annie glances at me. “I’m not sure.”
Carmelo eyes me. Obviously, the decision rests with me. I’m not going to be the reason Enzo can’t bowl on the same team as his girlfriend. Then again, the thought of teaming up with Carmelo sounds about as much fun as getting a pap smear.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll be teammates with Carmelo,” I say, plastering on my friendly “I’m all good” smile. The one I use when I lose a client but don’t want to show how frustrated I am.
“Carm,” he says. “Only my ma calls me Carmelo.”
He’s so close, I can smell his cologne. See the stubble on his face that makes it look like he’s always sporting a five o’clock shadow. I realize for the first time that his blue eyes are actually rimmed with hazel.
“Okay,” I croak before downing the rest of my wine.
He stands. “Want to shoot rock, paper, scissors to decide who goes first?”
Annie’s already prepped with her fist on her palm. This must be a thing with them.
“Oh, I don’t care who goes first,” I say, standing from the bench.
“Yeah, you do,” Carmelo… er, Carm says.
“Let the ladies do it,” Enzo says from his spot near the machine that spits out the balls.
“The only reason you want the ladies to do it is because you know you’ll lose. Annie’s your best shot.”
I look at Annie, who shrugs and rolls her eyes, silently saying that this is them—crazy competitive brothers.
“Fine, you go then, Bella.” Carm nudges me with his arm.
“On the count of three,” Annie says.
“One,” Carm says.
“Two,” Annie says.
“Three,” Enzo says.
I shoot rock.
Annie shoots scissors.
“Whoa!” Carm hollers in my ear then swings his arm around my shoulders. “Good job.”
He guides me over to the lane and I realize heels probably weren’t the best choice, but I had thought I’d gracefully bow out of the bowling part once it started. Annie takes a seat on the bench and kicks off her heels, pulling a package of socks from her bag. She puts a pair on her feet.
“Here,” Annie
says, handing me a pair. “I ran out at lunch and it’s a three-pack.”
“They don’t have bowling shoes?” I ask.
“Nope, and you can walk as far down the lane as you want. It’s pretty low key here.”
I nod. Good to know.
“Maybe we should start you guys closer to the pins, like a ladies’ tee in golf,” Carm says.
Annie and I whip our heads around.
“We’re just as capable as you,” Annie sneers and stands.
Carm holds up his hands as Enzo laughs and slaps him on the back.
“You take offense to everything.” Carm rolls his eyes.
“Because—” Annie starts, but Enzo comes up behind her and distracts her with his mouth at her ear.
He whispers something, and she melts back into his strong chest. His hands fall to her hips and squeeze.
“You two are in public,” Carm says.
I laugh because I was thinking the same thing. Our eyes catch for a moment, and it takes more of my willpower than it should to look away.
Enzo swivels Annie around and captures her lips in a move that’s so damn sexy, I’m jealous. Not that I want Enzo, but a man like that has moves I can’t fathom.
“Showoff,” Carm mumbles, shaking his head. Directing his attention to me, he motions toward the lane. “Ladies first.”
“I’ve never done this before.” I stand, and he follows me to the row of small balls.
He picks up one and hands it to me. “This is my first time too. Put it in your palm and act like you know what you’re doing. That’s the best advice I have for you.”
I smile.
He smiles.
Where is the cocky, arrogant flirt? This isn’t the man I’m familiar with.
“Okay.” He steps back, giving me some space.
I walk up to the lane pretending as if I have some clue how to do this. I swing my arm back then forward, and the ball flies halfway down the lane before landing on the wooden straightaway, barreling toward pins. Three go down on the right side.
“It’s a start,” I say.
Carm scribbles on the scoresheet. “Now get a spare.” He smiles, his eyebrows raising.
“Come on, Bella!” Annie claps behind me. Obviously, her lip lock is done. “Ouch! What? I don’t really care who wins,” she says to who I suspect must be Enzo.
“If you’re going to be a Mancini, you need to try to win at all costs,” Enzo says.
“I’m not a Mancini,” she says.
“Yet, babe. Yet.”
I pick up another ball, that rush of jealousy over what Annie and Enzo share hitting me once again. I wonder how long they’ve been dating and how they got together?
What am I talking about? I don’t have time for a relationship. My new business needs to be my priority for the foreseeable future.
I throw the ball down the lane and only get three more pins down.
Oh well. It’s just a game.
I turn around, and Annie’s already stepping up with her hand up. “Way to go.”
“Spare would have been better,” Carm says under his breath.
I narrow my eyes. Just when I thought we were on our way to a civilized coexistence.
Annie rolls her eyes. “It’s just a friendly game, Carm.”
He taps the pencil on the paper. “Said no one ever.”
I sit behind him and grab my wine before remembering I’ve finished it. I’m going to need another glass after all to get through the next couple hours.
As Annie goes to bowl, Carm swings around, his hand landing on my knee. A million jolts of electricity zip up my leg to my center. “Sorry. I’m just really competitive.”
I nod. “It’s fine.”
Our eyes lock, and he almost looks as if he’s trying to figure me out. Exhilaration swims in my stomach. Would I even be able to turn down Carmelo Mancini if he focused his charm my way? I hate that I don’t know the answer to that.
“Strike! Yay, baby,” Enzo booms.
Carm blinks, and the moment is over. I knew he was trouble, but I’m not sure I knew how much trouble.
Chapter Eight
Carm
What is it about Bella Scott that grabs hold of me every time she’s around? I hate her as much as I want to fuck her. I need to get it together.
Since Annie pretty much told me I’m a douche, I’m trying to be civil and not flirt, but when my hand landed on Bella’s knee, a current of warmth shot up my arm. I remember what Annie said about how I come off, but even so, I’ll admit that I wanted to grab Bella’s hand and take her away from here, press her against the wall outside the bathroom, slide my hand down to her ribs, and grab her ass as I thrust forward so she could feel how hard I was. The dark pink color on her lips would look incredible around my dick.
Nice daydream, but I need to deal with reality.
I pick up my ball, unnerved by how much headspace Bella has been taking up over the past few days. I throw the ball and try to get a strike. Not just because I need to beat my brother, but because she’s watching.
Enzo laughs when my ball goes into the gutter. “I have to bring you around more often.”
I turn around only to see Bella’s eyebrows raised. “Now get a spare,” she says, throwing my words back at me.
I laugh and pick up another ball, throwing it up and catching it in my palm. There’s no way I’ll allow myself to be distracted and lose to Enzo. Thankfully, Annie only got four pins down.
When I let it go, this time it rolls down the center of the lane, and I throw my hands in the air right before the ball makes contact. It crashes into the small pins, and every one goes down except one on the far right. What the hell?
Enzo’s laugh is all I hear when I turn to face them.
Bella’s eyebrows are still raised. “Spare would’ve been nicer.” She sips the wine she got from the bar a few minutes ago with a blank expression.
The fact she can keep her smile at bay tells me she’s a woman who holds her own.
I shake my head, and Enzo takes my spot in the lane as I fall in next to Bella on the bench. Her perfume reminds me of walking through Central Park when spring is in full bloom after the rainfall has helped every flower sprout throughout the vast acreage.
Wait? What the hell was that? Since when do I compare the way a woman smells to… well, anything?
Is this how it starts?
I should ask Enzo.
I adjust in my seat and pick up my beer.
Enzo gets a strike before I can initiate any conversation with Bella, and she’s out of her seat before Enzo has a chance to leave the lane.
The entire game goes back and forth. I underestimated Annie and Bella, because they hold their own, all of us getting a feel for the game after the third frame. But now we’re tied, and it’s come down to the last frame.
Bella spared, and now she’s on her last ball. I stand as it heads straight between the front pin and the one behind it. She did it.
“Shit,” Enzo says next to me.
“Relax,” Annie tells him.
Every pin falls and Bella turns around, both her arms up, and jumps with an exuberant smile. Before I can think better of it, I run over to her, pick her up, and circle her around. There’s no way Enzo and Annie can beat us now. Yeah, I may be underestimating Annie, but what Bella just did is hard to replicate.
Her arms wrap around my neck, and she laughs in my ear. Goose bumps travel down my spine. She feels soft and secure against me, her silky cheek pressed against my neck. Of course the congratulatory hug turns me on, and that vision of us I had earlier reappears like an unwanted nightmare.
This woman will never allow me to sleep with her, and even if she did, I’m not cool with the idea of running into my one-night-only affair across the hall every day.
I lower her, and she tucks her hair behind her ears. There’s a slight blush on her cheeks now. Did that hug affect her like it did me?
“Way to go, Bella!” Annie high-fives her.
E
nzo mumbles something, but I can see it on his face. He’s pissed. We don’t even have anything riding on this game. But he knows the best part is the bragging rights I’ll earn by beating him.
Bella and I do end up winning, but only by five pins.
“Let’s go out!” Annie says once she and Bella have their shoes back on. She finishes her glass of wine.
I’m surprised. Other than one night when my dad overserved her Frangelico after dinner, I’ve never seen Annie drunk. Even that night, it made her more like a tired cat than a party animal. Then again, once Annie entered the picture, Enzo and I stopped going out to clubs like we used to do.
“Yeah, I think I’m going home. Long day,” Bella says.
Annie sticks out her bottom lip in a two-year-old pout. “Come on.”
“Babe, it’s Tuesday night, there’s nothing good open,” Enzo says.
I keep my mouth shut because I know there are good clubs open. He knows there are good clubs open so he’s obviously looking for an excuse not to go. Glancing at my watch, I see that it’s only nine.
She falls into Enzo, giving him the eyes. I’ve seen them before. Specifically, any time he’s putting up a fight against her. They work, and it scares the shit out of me because I’m a pleaser by nature. A helluva lot more than Enzo ever was. Which means that if I ever let myself fall for someone like my brother has, she could make me do things I don’t really want to do.
“You’re going to complain tomorrow when the alarm goes off,” he says, but the fight in his voice is gone.
See what I mean? It’s crazy.
“Yay!” Annie claps and sets her sights on Bella.
“No. No.” Bella puts up her hands. “I am not a night owl, and I have an early meeting tomorrow.”
I cross my arms and wait. Annie is a convincer. She just persuaded Ma and Pa to go on vacation to the Caribbean this summer. We all chipped in for their anniversary. Enzo, Dom, and I thought we would rock, paper, scissors on who got to take the trip after Ma refused. But instead of saying no, they accepted the trip after Annie had a chat with them. Imagine two old Italian people on a white beach, fully clothed and criticizing the food, without a kitchen of their own.
“Carm?” Annie says, drawing my attention back to the conversation.
