Truthfully, he’d probably done me a favor five years ago, giving me the boarding school boot the way he had. It had forced me out from under this thumb. If I’d stayed in New York all these years, who knew how dependent I’d probably still have been on him.
Although it seemed I hadn’t completely escaped from his authority, considering I was once again living under his roof.
“Whether your father is ever made aware of the truth or not,” the priest said, “you are unknowingly hurting your relationship by lying to him, which is indirectly hurting your relationship with the Holy Father. Therefore, you must make amends by alleviating the necessity to lie.”
That meant one of two things.
I’d either have to tell Papà that I’d be venturing into the land of our enemies every day this summer—a confession that would undoubtedly be followed by my subsequent imprisonment because he’d never allow such a transgression—and defy his wrath.
Or I’d have to just give up the hospital job and waste the summer away in Hell’s Kitchen with only my medical journals to keep me company.
“This is clearly weighing on your heart,” the priest went on. “If you continue to let it fester, it will become poisonous to your soul. The Lord only gives us that which we can handle, but we do not need to tip the scales by placing further burdens on our shoulders.”
His words rattled around in my head as he issued my penance and I recited my Hail Mary’s. I spoke the required Act of Contrition and received absolution from him. Which, sadly, did nothing to relieve the guilt.
“Go in peace, my child.”
I made the sign of the cross and rose to my feet. “The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Thank you, Father.”
I exited the confessional booth feeling almost heavier than when I’d entered it.
The priest was right. This was already dragging me down. But I also couldn’t force myself to admit that I was committing some awful, unforgiveable act. Papà was in the wrong, refusing to let me live my life on my own terms.
That’s not what Mamà would have wanted.
Not to mention, if I turned down the opportunity in Brooklyn, I had a gut feeling I’d regret it for the rest of my life. I couldn’t explain that feeling. Didn’t know where it was coming from. It was just palpable, and I was too afraid to ignore it.
I feared the unknown.
Feared having an uncertain future.
Which was ironic because I knew better than anyone that no one’s future was guaranteed. Having blueprints for my life only fooled me into thinking that mine was. And spending the summer in New York had not been written anywhere in them.
So, I had to make the best of it. Working at that hospital and lying about it was frankly, the only way I knew how to do that.
My newfound confidence took a severe hit the second the confessional door closed behind me.
This can’t be real.
Did I die and go to Heaven?
Or was this Hell?
I couldn’t move as I gaped at the man who had been the object of my desire for half my life.
Slim odds, my ass!
Church, church, church.
He grinned, looking much too pleased with this random—and terrifyingly coincidental—turn of events.
“Hey, Rox. Thought I heard you were back in town.”
2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13, 17, 19…
Despite my best efforts, not even counting by prime numbers was going to help me this time. Not in the face of this. Not with him.
My crush. My hero. My past.
Ace Rossetti.
Is this part of my penance?
Because that was pretty quick work on the Holy Father’s part.
Although I had to admit, I didn’t think he’d be this cruel.
“Roxy?” Ace asked, his brows drawn. “You okay?”
Ace was here.
He was talking to me.
And he looked better than ever.
I stood rooted to the spot, eyes wide, jaw slackened. Those old, familiar tingles started in my toes and spread up along my spine, shooting into my arms and making my fingers prickle. It always used to happen like that any time I was around Ace. I guess those tingles had just been lying dormant all these years that I’d been away.
How was it possible he had grown into the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on?
Because years ago, he had been the most gorgeous boy you’d ever laid eyes on.
My brain was still processing the fact that he was standing in front of me.
Out of all the churches in New York City, how in the ever-loving world had we both found ourselves inside the exact same one, on the exact same day and at the same time?
“Ace.” My voice came out soft, but at least it wasn’t shaking. Because the rest of me was sure shook up. “Um, hi. What are you doing here?”
This Catholic church was in the Sutton Place area of Manhattan—a heck of a long way from Brooklyn.
He crossed his arms over his chest, jerking his head to the side to push the floppy portion of his midnight black hair off his forehead. He’d let it grow out on top over the years, though it was still trimmed along the sides. It used to be that short all over, barely long enough to run your fingers through.
Not that I’d ever had the pleasure of doing that.
No matter how many times I might have prayed for it.
His hair wasn’t the only thing that had changed. His six-foot frame was now packed with muscle, as was defined by the fitted black Henley he wore. The five o’clock shadow smattering his sculpted cheeks added to his masculine appearance, his jawline an even sharper square than it had been the last time I’d seen him five years ago. His dark chocolate eyes were the same, though. Deep, rich, and narrowed in contemplation. He’d always had that inquisitive look about him, as if he were constantly trying to solve all of the world’s problems.
And much to my dismay, those eyes still had the same effect on me.
All he had to do was point them in my direction for me to start craving something sweet that I knew I’d never have.
“I’m here installing a new security system,” he answered. “The church has recently been having some issues with vandalism. They called me to upgrade their alarms and cameras.”
I understood not one word that came out of his mouth. Partly because I genuinely didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. And partly because his mouth was so pretty to look at when he talked, it made comprehending his speech a most difficult task.
I shook my head. “I’m sorry, what?”
You’re not helping your “I’m more mature now” case. I sounded like I was still fifteen years old with stars in my eyes.
Just brilliant.
That tantalizing mouth spread into a half-grin. “I design and install high-grade private security systems,” he clarified. “I started tinkering around with stuff a few years ago after I finished at MIT, and it just evolved into a business.”
“Oh.” I swallowed, trying to draw moisture back into my dry mouth. “That’s impressive.”
Was it my imagination, or did his chest just puff up a little? As if he liked hearing my admiration.
Not that my admiration of him was anything new.
He’d always been impressive to me. In every way.
He shrugged. “Pays the bills.”
His modesty also hadn’t changed. He knew exactly how smart he was, but he never flaunted it. Never made others feel inferior to him. Unlike a lot of the guys I’d met at Yale. They might as well have tattooed their IQs on their foreheads with the way they constantly boasted of their academic prowess. Ace’s borderline genius intellect was one of the many reasons why I’d been drooling after him since before I sprouted boobs.
His intelligence was ridiculously sexy.
I forced my shoulders to relax and found myself smiling. I noticed his gaze lower almost involuntarily to my mouth before quickly lifting back up to my eyes.
Wait, what was that?
I swear,
if I had something in my teeth...
That would just be the cherry on top of the Lifetime Humiliation in Front of Ace cake.
Behind my closed lips, I swiped my tongue over my teeth just to be sure.
“That’s great,” I said, clearing my throat. “I’m glad you’re doing that.”
His choice of career made sense, considering he’d always been fussing with some sort of gadget in almost every memory I had of him.
“Mom said you graduated early from Yale,” he said in a much deeper timbre than he’d had five years ago. “And going to med school in August?”
I was still so mesmerized by his sudden presence, all I could manage to do was nod.
Five years I’ve missed out on this.
Five years, sixty months, two hundred sixty weeks, one thousand—
“So, what are you doing back home for the summer?” he asked, curiosity lacing his tone. “Knowing you, I figured you’d be getting a jump start on your classes.”
Since when did he know me?
Was he talking about the mousy little bookworm I used to be? The girl who barely spoke above a whisper and had turned studying into a hobby? Because I’d definitely shaved off that layer. I still might have been buried in my academics and was more of a homebody than a partier, but I was far from mousy these days. My life had gone through a series of drastic changes over the past several years. And shedding that timid, doormat exterior had been among them.
I actually spoke up for myself now.
“I, um, hadn’t planned on coming back,” I replied. “But Papà…requested my presence out of the blue.”
Truth be told, I had thought at the time he was dying or something. It was the first explanation I’d come up with for him all of a sudden wanting me back home. How sad was that? But as far as I could tell, he was in good health, at least physically.
Mentally? That was anyone’s guess.
Ace’s half-grin dropped.
Stop sounding bitter. It’s not attractive.
“I see,” he said in a more subdued voice. “You’re not happy to be back, then?”
My heart panged in my chest. This entire city was a reminder of everything I’d lost. My mother’s and brother’s graves were in this church’s cemetery out back. In Connecticut, it was easier to put their memories in the back of my mind and keep them there.
“Considering the note I left on, can you blame me?”
His rugged face fell in sympathy, but I brushed it off. When you saw that expression as often as I did, you tended to get sick of it.
“I guess not.” He shifted on his feet, clearing wanting to steer away from that depressing topic. “So, you’re just going to sit around and chill all summer?” He chuckled. “For some reason, I just can’t picture that.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why is that?”
He shrugged, drawing my attention to the broadness of his shoulders. Seeing how his older brothers had developed into manhood when I was younger, I shouldn’t have been surprised by all the dramatic changes his body had gone through.
“Ever since I’ve known you, you’ve always had to have your hands busy with something,” he said. “And if not your hands, then your mind. Working on a puzzle or reading a book. Even if you were sitting still in church or at the dinner table, you could see the wheels were always turning in your head.”
He’d noticed all of that? He’d actually been paying attention to me?
Uh…what?
He’d never once indicated he knew anything about me beyond the fact that I was alive.
“Says the human technology magnet,” I mused, raising an eyebrow. “You never could sit still without some sort of device in your hands to fiddle with. Tell me the truth, you cuddle with your phone at night, don’t you?”
I was proud of myself. See, I could tease and flirt like a normal, non-obsessed adult without being weird. After all, I’d gotten over that silly crush a long time ago.
Yeah, clearly.
His gaze sharpened on me. Not in a heated way—unfortunately—but in more of a scrutinizing, analytical type of way. Since we hadn’t seen each other in five years, he must have been trying to work out the new version of me.
Good luck because I still am.
“I will neither confirm nor deny whether or not I have an inappropriately close relationship with my phone,” he conceded, making us both chuckle. “I guess you and I have more in common than I thought.”
I couldn’t have been more shocked than if he’d dropped his pants right there in the middle of the church.
I’d always thought we had tons in common and wanted to tell him so on numerous occasions. But I’d always chickened out. Because according to him, the only thing we’d ever had in common was his sister.
“How’s Gia?”
His eyes softened. “She’s good, other than being annoyed all the time. She’ll be a senior at NYU. Pre-law and she hates it.”
She and I had been best friends for our entire childhoods. Inseparable up until one disastrous night five years ago. That was why I’d been around Ace so much over the years. Any time she and I had hung out, I’d always begged to come over to her place. My house had never held much appeal because after all, Ace wasn’t in it. And knowing Gia as well as I did—or used to—she would have definitely hated going pre-law.
God, I missed her.
I’d made friends at Yale but none like her. She understood me better than anyone, both of us having come from similar circumstances. But there were reasons we’d had to sever our relationship, and I was afraid those reasons still stood.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Um,”—I bit my lower lip— “can you tell her I said hi?”
His expression turned to that of an adoring older brother. “Of course.”
And that was why my crush had never gone further than a crush.
I was just another little sister to him.
Gia and I were the same age, three years younger than Ace. He had basically lumped me into the same category as her years ago: annoying younger sister. Trailing after him, hanging onto his every word, I had made a giant fool of myself. Even worse, I knew his four older brothers had teased him to no end about it. If Ace had ever been protective of me, it was always in an angry, brotherly way, not in a jealous, possessive type of way. Which was what I’d always secretly longed for.
Because I’d never—not once—thought of him as my older brother.
Not for one second.
There’s an old Italian saying that seemed so fitting during those many years when my hopeless love for Ace went unrequited. I know I can dream, I know I will never have you, but I also know I will never stop loving you.
“Maybe you guys could hang out sometime,” he added. “She’d love to see you.”
My heart ached.
There had been a gaping hole there ever since I lost her years ago to the rising tension between our families. Our fathers had once been good friends, then they had a falling out, and any connection between the D’Angelos and the Rossettis had been obliterated in an instant.
“I think you and I both know that’s not possible.” My voice was resigned. “Nothing has changed.”
To my astonishment, his eyes flared as they slowly raked down my body.
Okay, I’m definitely not imagining that heat.
Was he really looking at me like that? Like he did in my pathetic, hopeless dreams? But where was it coming from?
“Oh, I don’t know,” he rasped, his gaze once again landing on my mouth. “I’d say some things have definitely changed.”
Whaaaaaaaat actually is happening here?
His words knocked the air right out of my lungs.
The level of bafflement on my face was surely making me look like an idiot, but nothing could have been done about it.
He took a meaningful step toward me. “Have you been a bad girl, Roxy?”
I’d been staring at his mouth, the way the corner of it twitched with a hint of a grin, but my eyes flew up to his at thos
e words.
Because they dripped with innuendo.
Since when did Ace speak to me with innuendo? Did he suddenly forget who he was talking to?
Embarrassingly, I felt my cheeks heat. He probably thought I was an inexperienced, naïve child at seeing how easily I could still blush.
But I was only one of those things, thank you very much.
My voice unintentionally came out as a whisper. “Excuse me?”
His eyes briefly flitted to the confessional booth. Then that grin came back. “What kind of sins does a girl like you need to confess?”
There was one thing about Ace that had always stood out for me above so many others.
That inquisitive expression of his I mentioned earlier was one that could swiftly turn very intense. Particularly when he was looking at a girl he was interested in. His eyes would go molten, his jaw would harden, his lips would tighten, and when his chin dipped almost imperceptibly lower, he really meant business. And by business, I meant he was turned on. It was like his signature look that he always gave pretty girls.
For years, I’d desperately hoped Ace would one day look at me like that.
That I would make his jaw clench, make his mouth firm. That I could cause the kind of visceral reaction in him that made his hands fist with the uncontrollable urge to grab me and haul me to him. I wanted his need to kiss me to light a fire in him so hot he’d do anything to relieve the burn.
I’d seen him look at so many other girls just like that, and it had broken my heart each and every time. I’d fallen asleep countless nights, praying that I would eventually be the recipient of his heated inspection.
And for the first time in my life…Ace was looking at me.
Just.
Like.
That.
I knew Roxy D’Angelo.
I had grown up with her. I’d seen her through various stages of life—from cute childhood to the awkward teenage years. I knew her family. Knew her laugh, knew her smile. I knew things about her she probably didn’t want me to know. And on one particularly memorable occasion, I’d seen her bare teenage ass.
But this was not Roxy D’Angelo.
The woman standing stock still before me was a fucking goddess.
Scars and Sins (Brooklyn Brothers Book 2) Page 2
