Without Me (9 page)

Taking a long, slow inhale, I felt relieved that she had given in. All I wanted was the now. We could implode and collapse like the tallest skyscraper during demolition, but I wanted to know we’d tried. That I hadn’t let her run away without exploring the first true feelings I’d ever felt for a woman.

That was how we began.

I hadn’t been expecting him. I thought I’d done enough and been cruel to the point he’d never want to cross paths again. Naturally, I was wrong. He wasn’t the type to give up, but the one thing I thought I had going for me was that I was just as bullheaded as he was.

As he turned around, my heart stopped. I felt a void inside my chest from the rhythmic beating that I’d grown to ignore, but when it ceased I took note. I wanted to jump into his arms and kiss his face but I refrained.

I tried everything I could think of to get him to understand we couldn’t be together. The problem with that was he didn’t believe a word of it. I felt the spark just as much as he had. Maybe even more since I hadn’t let anyone touch me for years.

I’d lied to him. I couldn’t believe what popped out of my mouth when I felt backed into a corner. I’d pay someday for that shitty-ass lie. My family wouldn’t care that he was white. Denzel was engaged to a white girl, after all. It was the only thing I could think of, though. I figured I could hide behind my family and he’d back off.

But when he kissed me, I couldn’t say no to him any longer. Feeling the softness of his lips against mine, tasting him again, and being in his arms made me want to give in and throw my grand plan out the window.

Maybe if I went on one date with him, I’d find out that I didn’t really like him. Maybe I only wanted him because I was lonely and horny. An official date with Anthony would be just the ticket. After spending an evening with him and actually talking, I’d be done with him.

His cocky attitude would drive me away and his need to feel he’d captured me would wane. Soon, it would all be over and I’d go back to my simple life and the overuse of my new vibrator whom I affectionately nicknamed Tyrese after watching a
Fast & Furious
movie.

I could go back and be happy again. Couldn’t I?

T
he first official
date we had was simple. We went to dinner and ended up at her place. I’d like to pretend I was a true gentleman, but it would be a lie. Yes, I opened her door, pulled out her chair, and all that bullshit my father had taught me as a young man, but I didn’t waste time before getting her in the sack again.

I couldn’t. No matter how badly I wanted to wait, I couldn’t. It was hard to be patient and wait when I wasn’t sure if the offer would still be there tomorrow. Plus, I was a greedy fuck.

She hadn’t promised forever¸ but she had said that I could have her now. It was more than I’d ever promised anyone, and since she had my head all messed up, I took what I could. Months ago, before Max, I wouldn’t have wanted a second chance. There was no way I’d have accepted taking a back seat and hiding from the people in our lives. Somehow, she made it okay.

I went from not wanting a relationship to being her dirty secret in what seemed like the blink of an eye. Oddly enough, it didn’t make me feel inferior or weak. I felt renewed and like anything was possible. Maybe I could be a rock star. Possibly, my destiny wasn’t to be alone. Who knew what the future held? I’d always thought I did. I had a set path and I followed it.

Meet ’em. Fuck ’em. Leave ’em.

Roles had reversed, and now, I was the one willing to accept that course of action.

I wanted to show her that I had another side. The non-asshole one that could be sweet. Naturally, I didn’t know where a romantic restaurant was, so I Googled it. Listed first was the place that served cheesecake by the tons. I’d been there once and hadn’t felt an ounce of romance as I’d listened to Suzy chatter on about school. I went for option two listed in the search—The Melting Pot.

I knew they served fondue, but what I hadn’t expected was the amount of time we’d be sitting there. The dinner took hours.

Between the cheese and the meat courses, I thought I’d try and get to know more about the woman who sat next to me. I knew the basics. Name: Maxine. Age: mid-thirties, but she wouldn’t be specific. Occupation: stylist. She had at least one brother and a mother who didn’t want her to date a white man. Best Friends: Nita and Malia. That was all I knew about her. Not much to go on, and maybe that was why I liked her as much as I did. She was mysterious and magnetic, and I knew that our touch caused sparks.

“Do you only have one brother?” I asked as I poured more wine in our glasses while we waited for our oil pot to arrive.

“Just the one.” She played with the edge of the napkin her water glass sat on, rubbing it between her two fingers.

She was dressed in a simple black cocktail dress. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and the ends cascaded over her shoulders, stopping above her breasts.

I knew that the prick didn’t like me, but I was thankful there was only one brother I had to watch out for. “Damian, right?”

She rolled her eyes. “Denzel. Like the actor.”

“Sorry. I was paying more attention to you than what you called him.”

“Simple mistake. What about you? Any siblings?”

“I have three brothers and a sister.”

“Jesus.” she shook her head. “I’d go crazy with multiple Denzels. Your poor sister.”

“Trust me,” I replied as I toyed with the stem of my wineglass. “Izzy handles her own affairs.”

“Are you saying I don’t?” she shot back as she cocked an eyebrow.

“No. No.” I sighed. Fuck. It wasn’t what I’d meant, exactly, but maybe I’d said it with a hint of sarcasm. “You certainly can hold your own, Kitty Cat.”

“So, you and your brothers never butt into her love life?”

I wanted to lie. Truly, I did. But I didn’t think it would be right. “Yeah. We’ve been known to butt in a time or two.”

She laughed, a sweet, soft laugh. “What is it with men always feeling like they need to rescue us?”

Like a dumbass, I replied, “We have to protect what’s ours.”

“Say that again?” she said with a confused look on her face.

“It’s ingrained in us. Part of our DNA. I can’t ever stop protecting my sister. She’s my family and always will be. Even if she’s wrong, I’ll protect her with my life.”

“Most of us don’t need saving, Anthony.” She lifted her wineglass and stared at me over the rim.

“I didn’t say anything about saving. It’s more about protecting, Max.”

“That’s what guns are for.” She grinned on the glass and winked.

“You carry?” I asked, feeling a little afraid of her.

Girls with guns could be a very deadly combination, especially when I had a very good chance of pissing them off.

“Always.” Her eyes shifted to her evening bag that was sitting on top of the table, next to the wall.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because a girl could never be too careful.”

“Of me?”

“Of anyone, Anthony.”

It was laughable, but endearing.

“Max,” I said as I set my glass down and inclined forward. “If I wanted to kill you, I would’ve done it already. I wouldn’t have to sit through two hours of fondue to do it.”

“Already thinking about offing me?” she asked.

“I don’t live in an episode of
The Sopranos
.”

Stereotypes crossed all nationalities and racial lines. We all knew what the stereotypes were. Italians weren’t usually portrayed in the best light—especially males. Often, we were characterized as mobsters. Seen as dangerous criminals looking for a racket to make our money and “offing” anyone in our way. It was the furthest thing from the truth, but the Hollywood depiction stuck in the minds of all non-Italians across the world. I couldn’t blame her for pigeonholing what she didn’t know, but I’d work on changing her attitude.

“I didn’t mean to offend you.” She tapped her fingernail on the glass.

“You didn’t. Tell me about your father,” I said, trying to change the subject.

“He’s been dead for about three years.” A frown covered her face. “He was the best dad ever.”

I could’ve argued that point. Sal Gallo had to be the best dad in the world. My pop was my rock. He was the thing that held the family together. I’d never admit that to my mom, though.

“I’m so sorry to hear that. That has to be hard.”

She nodded slowly, looking down at her wine. “It is. He suffered for a long time before he passed. It’s horrible watching your father wither away before your eyes.” Her fingers swept over the bottom of the glass, making a figure eight. “It was the worst thing I’d ever gone through in my life, Anthony. The day my father died, I didn’t know how to feel. I loved him more than anything in the world, but to watch someone suffer is the most excruciating thing you can ever experience. Have you ever lived through something so traumatic it altered your view of the entire world?” Her eyes rose to mine, a thin layer of tears lining the inside.

I thought about it and concentrated on my breathing. I had been blessed with the health of my family. “No. I haven’t.” I shook my head. A small fissure of guilt went through me at the luck I’d had in life. Unlike a majority of people, I had money, looks, and health.

“Be glad for that. You know how you want to protect your sister—or anyone in your family, for that matter?” she asked, blotting her eyes and capturing the tears on her napkin.

“Yes. Like I said, I’d do anything to keep them safe.”

“Imagine if there was nothing you could do. You had to watch as they slowly deteriorated before your eyes. No matter how hard you tried or how many doctors you visited, there was nothing you could do.”

“Jesus,” I muttered, trying to put myself in her shoes. I couldn’t. It would be too painful to watch something like that happen to someone I loved. “Did he have cancer?”

“No.” She vigorously shook her head. “He had an incurable disease that’s very rare.”

“I just can’t…” The words got stuck in my throat. “I can’t imagine what you went through, Max.” I reached across the table and swept my fingers over the top of her hand. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

Her eyes dipped to where our bodies touched. “It’s over with now,” she said as she wiped the tears away. “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s kind of a mood killer, Anthony.” She gave me a small smile that didn’t match her eyes.

“Okay,” I sighed. I was ready for a new topic. It seemed that whichever way we went, there were landmines waiting to explode.

“Tell me about your family. Give me something happy.”

“Well, I’m about to be an uncle for the first time.”

“Oh, that’s exciting. When?” She smiled.

I’d been waiting for her to move her hand from mine, but she kept it there, letting me stroke it with my thumb.

“This fall sometime. First baby in the family, so it should be interesting.”

“Babies always bring joy.”

“Yeah, I’d agree if the pregnant woman didn’t devour every drop of food at Sunday dinner every week. I swear I’ve never seen anything like it.”

She giggled, and her eyes transformed as her smile kissed the edges of her lips. “I know, right? A few of my friends have had babies, and I wonder the same thing. God, if I look at food, I swear I gain five pounds.”

She’d look beautiful with a little more weight. Her body was already lush and soft when I touched her, but I wouldn’t complain if she had more to hold.

“Max, you’d look beautiful no matter how much you weighed.” I smiled at her, and an image of her with a round belly while she stuffed her face full of pasta made my insides warm. It scared the crap out of me. I knew she didn’t want children.

“You’re just saying that because you’re trying to ply me with cheese, oil, and chocolate tonight.”

I shook my head and grinned. “You’re beautiful.”

“Thanks.” She blinked. Then she glanced down at our hands again and had a small grin on her lips. “Tell me more.”

I moved closer, making sure no one else could hear. “I love the softness of your thighs when I have my head—”

“No. No. Not that,” she whispered. “I meant about your family. Not sex, Anthony.” She shifted in her seat before looking at me again.

Knowing that the thought of sex with me turned her on brought me happiness. If nothing else, she couldn’t resist me simply because of the number of orgasms I’d brought her.

“Okay. I work with my siblings at the tattoo shop.”

“God, I couldn’t imagine working with Denzel. I think I’d kill him.”

The waitress arrived, placing the pot of oil and a plate of cut-up meats and vegetables besides it. “Do you two need anything else?” she asked.

I looked to Max, and she shook her head. “No. We’re fine, ma’am.”

She walked away, giving us the privacy I had craved.

“We have a lot of fun. We’re all part owners, and sometimes, it gets a little sticky, but for the most part, it’s been great.”

“You’re lucky. Seems like you have a close family, then.”

“I do, but one of my brothers is working undercover and I haven’t seen him in ages.”

“Wow. That’s honorable. When will you see him again?”

“Hopefully soon. I think his investigation is just about over. It’s like a piece of me is missing when he’s gone.”

“I know how that feels,” she grumbled as she grabbed a long poker and stabbed at a piece of steak. “At least you know he’s coming back.”

“True,” I replied, feeling like a complete tool.

Thomas would come home if everything worked out, but her father? He’d never return to her. I grew silent, cursing myself as I placed a few pieces of food in the pot.

She repeated the process and stared at me over the table. “It’s okay, Anthony. You don’t need to watch what you say. I like to hear about something other than my family.”

The butterflies that had started to flutter inside my stomach began to calm with her words. “If you say so,” I mumbled, still feeling like a complete asshole.

“Did you say you have Sunday dinner? Like, every Sunday?” she asked as she twirled the sticks and turned the meat.

“Yeah. My mom cooks dinner every week, and we’re required to be there.”

“What’s she going to do if you don’t go? Ground you?” she shot back, and laughed. “You are a grown-ass man.”

I chuckled too, knowing that it sounded insane. “You don’t understand my ma. She’s one woman you don’t want to piss off. If you can’t make it, you better call.”

“You’re scared of your mother?” she asked as she pulled her sticks out of the oil, tapping them on top of her dish.

“I wouldn’t say scared. I’d say I respect her.”

“Uh huh.” She placed the first bite of steak in her mouth. “You’re scared,” she said after she swallowed the food.

“I most certainly am not. My mother is the head of the entire family. I try to never be a no-show out of respect. She spends hours cooking a feast for us and the least I can do is show up. Plus,” I added, grabbing another piece of meat from the pot to cool, “it’s a free meal.” I laughed.

“So, you’re a cheap bastard?” she teased.

“What do you think?” I grinned.

“I’d say you are.” She nodded and looked down at her tiny plate of meat pieces.

“Fondue isn’t a cheap meal. I never skimp, especially when taking a woman on a date.”

“Do you do that a lot?” she inquired without looking at me.

“What?” I asked, furrowing my brow as I watched her.

“Take a lot of women on dates.”

I couldn’t help it. I burst into laughter. “Max, I do not date.”

“Well, what’s this, then?”

“Let me rephrase that. I’ve never taken a woman on a date before you.”

“Anthony, be honest. God doesn’t like liars,” she told me as her lip twitched.

“Max, I’m dead serious. I’ve never found someone I wanted to get to know. Before you, all I cared about was getting them in the sack.”

“You’ve never had a girlfriend?” she asked with a look of shock.

“In high school and in my early twenties, but I wouldn’t say I took them to dinner. I wasn’t into wining and dining,” I admitted, knowing I sounded like a complete pig.

“And you’re saying that women are easy?”

“I fucked you, didn’t I?” I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth.

“Not the first night. I believe you had to work for it.” She smiled as she plopped a piece of zucchini in her mouth.