Breaking Bones (Mariani Crime Family Series Book 2) (11 page)

The water cooled me down immediately. Without giving Bones another glance, I swam until my limbs felt like they were going to fall off. When I couldn’t go a single lap further, I headed for the hot tub. Turning my back to the pool so I wouldn’t be tempted to gawk at Bones, I closed my eyes and slunk down until the water came to my chin. The jets drowned out the noise of my reality and pounded away at my sore muscles. It was heaven. It lasted all of five minutes. Then the water level rose, covering my mouth and going up my nose to almost drown me. I flailed and coughed, trying to recover.

“Sorry,” Bones said, smiling sheepishly. “Most people have a little body fat, so they rise with the water level.”

Sometimes he said the sweetest things without even meaning to.

“Aww, thanks.”

I resettled and watched droplets of water roll down Bones’s chest. It was the first time I’d seen him bare-chested close up, and
da-aamn
, the boy was stacked. Besides the very impressive muscles, though, several scars marked up his pecks and abs. I remembered what he’d said about coming home bleeding from training and his mom not saying anything, but just fixing him up. I nodded toward the marks and asked, “Those the scars from your training?”

“Some.” He sank up to his neck, obstructing my view. “Guys have scars. It’s a thing.”

“Sure they do. Must have been
some
training.” I’d seen knife scars before, and Bones definitely had a couple of them. And the sloppy circle on his left shoulder had to be a bullet wound. No way that was from training.

“So…” Bones started, leading into an obvious subject change. “I hear you have a birthday coming up.”

I winced at the reminder of my upcoming twenty-first birthday. Old enough to drink and too old to be chasing a dead dream. I could almost hear the clock ticking toward my mid-twenties, and then thirties. When would I be too old to be discovered at all? Uncle Jay used to call my singing “a nice little hobby.” Man, I wanted to prove that windbag wrong and show him I could make a career out of it, but after a year in Vegas I was still just waiting tables.

“Ari?”

I shook myself. “Yep.”

He chuckled. “What? It’s the big twenty-one. You should be at least a little excited.”

“Yay me,” I deadpanned. Twenty-one, crappy job, always broke, living in my sister’s boyfriend’s condo, no car, no education; life wasn’t exactly turning out the way I’d hoped. I should have listened to my uncle and gone to school. I shouldn’t have blown all my money moving to Vegas and renting—and furnishing—the fanciest apartment I could find. I shouldn’t have given a cent to Matt. I should have researched him and asked for references. The drugs were also a big mistake. Oh, and all those expensive outfits I bought didn’t do a thing for getting me noticed. They just emptied the last of my bank account. Now here I was, washed up before I’d even started.

Boo-hoo. Cry me a freakin’ river, Ari. You’ve got no one to blame but yourself. Idiot.

“You’re not the least bit pumped about drinking legally?”

“Nah. Kinda takes the fun out of it for me. It’s not like I like the flavor or anything.”

He chuckled. It was nice to see him relax after whatever had gone down with his job this morning. Deciding to mess with him, I batted my eyelashes.

“Why do you look so disappointed, Bones? You thinking about getting me drunk and taking advantage of me?”

He stiffened. “Sorry, Ari, but I’m not that kind of guy.”

“Don’t get your panties in a wad, I know you’re the boring definition of a gentleman.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

Bones was like a trained bear in this circus called life. He was friendly and knew all the right tricks, but there was something feral and dangerous lurking beneath his skin. The suicidal part of me wanted to taunt him until he lost his cool and showed me the beast within. I wanted to poke him until he broke free and mauled me. Probably not my smartest move, but I leaned forward and said, “Yeah? Prove it.”

Then I made the dirtiest play I could think of and stood up. Water cascaded down my bikini-clad body, forcing Bones’s attention on my bare stomach, which was right in his face. His eyes widened, and I got the briefest glimpse of his beast. Then he dropped his gaze and looked away.

“Chicken,” I said, slumping back down into the water.

“I’m not a nice guy, Ari. I know you’re just teasing, but you don’t want to do that with guys like me.”

“Who said I was teasing?” Frustrated, I crossed my arms and glared at him.

“Come on, don’t be like that.” He nudged me with a toe. “Talk to me like you did last night. Tell me something about yourself.”

“I hate the color pink,” I replied. It was the least personal response I could think of.

He cocked his head. “Not what I meant. Tell me something important. Something you’ve never told anyone else.”

“Truth or dare?” I asked.

“But without the dare. I have a feeling you’d beat me every round.”

“No fun,” I pouted. “Fine, but you go first.”

“Okay.” Bones looked around the room. I followed his gaze to the two camera bubbles. Whatever he was about to confide, he didn’t want overheard. My interest piqued when he turned up the jets on the tub and slid over so the side of his body was pressed against mine. His proximity definitely felt more like a dare than truth. My pulse sped up as he leaned into me, positioning himself to whisper in my ear. Hot breath on my neck made goosebumps sprout across my arms. If he was about to admit he had a thing for me, I could not be responsible for what I did to him in that hot tub. Or what I allowed him to do to me. To hell with the cameras pointed at us.

“I’m sick of watching people die,” he whispered.

Talk about killing the mood… Still, curiosity made me seek out his expression. He looked upset—haunted. “What, like family members?” Was he talking about cancer? Trying to relate to me about Markie?

He shook his head.

I searched his face, but it gave me no more answers.

“Your turn.”

It felt kind of unfair since he was being all mysterious and elusive, but two could play that game. “Being around Markie makes me feel like a horrible human being.”

“That doesn’t count. Your sister’s not normal. She’d make the Pope step up his game.”

I giggled. “Yes she would, but it still counts.”

“Give me something else. Did you do something in particular that you feel guilty about?” Bones asked.

His question was a little too on point for my comfort. I raised my chin and looked him in the eye. “Your turn.”

He flashed me that heart-stealing crooked smile again. I sucked in another steadying breath as he returned to my ear.

“I’ve never taken a girl to meet my mom before.”

I burst out laughing.

“You can’t laugh at my confession!” he said, sounding scandalized.

“I’m not a priest. Not only can I laugh, but I can judge you, and you are so being judged right now. Why haven’t you ever brought a girl home, Bones?” My gaze drifted over his body before returning to his face. Lowering my voice, I said, “That body, that smile… I’m sure they were all over you.”

His eyebrows rose.

I raised mine in response, challenging.

His leg rubbed against mine, sending little sparks of electricity across my skin. I sucked in a breath and watched him, wondering if he had any idea what he was doing to me. Did he feel this too, or was he just screwing with me?

He grinned. “Your turn.”

He was definitely screwing with me. I turned on him, flustered and frustrated. “That so doesn’t count. Your mom already told me you never brought girls home.”

“Yeah. Dinner with her and her… whatever the hell he is, will be interesting for sure.”

I nodded, unsure of how I would react the next time I saw Marcella, now that I knew the truth about her. “Quit trying to change the subject. That still doesn’t count. Tell me another one.”

“It does count. The rules were something you’ve never told anyone, and that’s something I would never admit aloud.”

So he’d never taken a girl home to meet his mom. Did that mean he’d never dated? Slept with a girl? He was twenty-three with a smoking-hot body; no way was he a virgin, but there was something surprisingly innocent about him under his hard-ass exterior. Just thinking about it was setting my body on fire.

“Your face is turning red,” Bones observed.

I gave him my best innocent face. “It’s warm in here.”

He eyed me, no doubt seeing through the lie. “Your turn,” he repeated.

Because I needed to show him I could play his game, I dug down deep, searching for something obvious that I’d never say. “I’m afraid of being a big, fat failure.”

He eyed me skeptically. “Doesn’t count.”

“What?” I scoffed. “Why not?”

“Everyone’s afraid of failure.”

“I’ve never told anyone.” What I didn’t tell him was that I was also afraid of success. If I started pulling in decent paychecks, would I use again? Would I be able to get high enough to feel free? Or would the pressure to perform be too much for me to take? Could I handle the critics? I’d read bad reviews and tried to decide how they’d affect me. The outcome was never good. Would the secrets from my past—the reason my uncle hated me—come back to haunt me? Would Markie find out and turn her back on me too? I honestly didn’t know if I could deal with any of the possibilities, and my uncertainty scared the crap out of me. I didn’t want to become just another drug addicted cliché of an artist. “Your turn.”

His expression darkened. Then he leaned into my personal space—creating goosebumps on top of goosebumps—and whispered, “I don’t want to get stuck in this city.”

My brow furrowed. People didn’t get “stuck” in cities. They got stuck in podunk little towns like the one in Idaho I’d fled from. Vegas was full of life and opportunities. I was about to tell him as much when the door opened and a guy in his trunks entered the room. Bones was still pressed against me, his breath still warm on the side of my face. He shifted, and his lips brushed my neck before he stood. He’d kissed me! Kind of. The whole thing had happened so fast, I really wasn’t sure. Well, except for the tingling happening throughout my body.

“What about you, Ari?” he whispered, offering me his hand. “When we leave, will you come with us?”

Thinking about Vegas, about my failing dream, about my upcoming birthday, about the sweet, funny, hot-as-hell man asking me to follow him, I nodded. “Yeah. If you want me to come, I will.”

He pulled me to my feet and helped me out of the hot tub. Then he released me and headed toward the men’s locker room. Instantly missing the contact, I went to change, trying to figure out what had just happened between us.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Bones

I
T HAD BEEN two days since I lost my mind and kissed Ariana. It wasn’t even a kiss, really. I barely brushed my lips against her neck before my brain kicked into gear and asked what the hell I was doing. The only problem was that now I couldn’t stop fantasizing about doing it again. Her neck, her lips, her cheeks, her eyelids, her forehead, down her arms, her fingertips, I wanted to kiss every inch of her, and the desire was driving me crazy.

Ariana was a good friend and I wanted to keep it that way, which meant keeping my hands—and my lips—off her before things got awkward. Besides, Renzo was pissed at me, Carlo wasn’t exactly happy, and I refused to turn Ariana into a liability either of them could use against me. I was in the middle of trying to remind myself of all of these great points when she emerged from my bedroom looking like a magazine cover model. A long-sleeved fitted black suit jacket hinted at cleavage and hugged her torso before turning into a pleated skirt that came just above her knees. Red high heels did amazing things to her legs and ass while elevating her slightly above my six-foot height. Between the outfit and the soft curls she’d added to her chin-length hair, she looked classy as hell. Her neck was bare, calling for my lips once again. I’d never been a neck guy before, but something about Ariana turned me into a goddamn vampire.

“You look stunning!” Markie exclaimed.

“Yeah, you do.” When Angel looked at me, amusement flickered across his face. “I hope Bones is taking you somewhere nice.”