REDEMPTION | MAFIA ROMANCE | SMUT

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Alexa locked herself in the en-suite to change into comfortable loungewear. In her absence, I arranged for people to clean the mess at her apartment, the overturned furniture and ransacked cupboards. I will replace the damages before she goes home.

I sat behind the desk, whiskey bottle and Rizla ready. I built a deck, distributed an even consistency of kush across the paper, the roach. Pinching it between my thumbs and fingers, I rolled it from middle to end.

The bathroom door unlocked.

In casual grey slouch pants and loose black T-shirt, which revealed a sliver of her flat stomach, Alexa went to the U-shaped leather seating accommodation and, stuffing belongings into her black handbag, sat down to read a message on her phone. Her hair sat messily atop her head. I liked the image. It exposed her kissable jawline, the feminine dip of her collar bones and the small beauty spot on her neck.

I licked the Rizla seam. "I took the liberty of ordering you food."

She glanced up from the phone. "It's okay. I am not overly hungry."

"I am," I murmured, the rolled blunt balancing on my bottom lip. "Thoughts on pesto?"

Her lips thinned. "Are restaurants still delivering at this time of the morning?"

"Yes." I matched a flame, lit the end of the blunt and inhaled two deep drags. "Perks of living in the city."

"Pesto looks unappetising."

"An acquired taste," I said, and she nodded in agreement. "It comes with reinforcement."

Amusement glittered in her eyes. "Yeah?"

"Bruschetta," I confirmed, and she laughed lightly. "Surely, grilled bread and tomatoes are appetising enough to tempt you."

She rubbed her stomach for theatrical purposes, and I couldn't help but marvel at the prominent lines of her hip bones. "Sold," she moaned in pleasure. "I will eat everything in sight." Her eyes paused on me for a moment and then rounded fractionally. "Oh, shit. That came out so wrong."

I feigned cluelessness. "What?"

Purple flushed her cheeks. "I have foot-in-mouth disease."

I maintained impassiveness.

"Like, I didn't mean to eat you—or that," she stuttered, and it took everything inside me not to comment or laugh. "Please erase everything I just said."

Her nervousness only intensified the need to go further. "Are you this uncomfortable around men in general, or is it just me?"

Alexa groaned behind two hands. "Are you open to interpretation?"

I nodded.

"I have a love-hate relationship with men. I can appreciate them from afar, but I struggle to let them get too close. If I do allow their nearness, I always say something stupid." We stayed pensive while she spoke. "For some strange reason, I can handle being close to you. I don't understand it either," she added, noticing my confusion. "You are the last person I should feel safe around. Yet, I am less afraid when you are nearby."