Page 14 of Reaper’s Wrath

“I’m going to have to find a way to butter up D before I tell him. He’s pretty upset at me for not going out with him tonight. I told him I had a headache. Again. I think he’s starting to worry about me.”

She sobers, her lips pursing. “You could still probably meet up with him.”

“Nah. He’ll get over it, and besides, this is our ten-month anniversary, and I want to spend it with you.”

“That’s kind of random and crazy sweet that you remember those things.”

I grin playfully. “Hey, you only get to celebrate ten months once.”

She doesn’t laugh like I expect. Instead, she pulls her lips between her teeth and takes a shaky breath. “What if I told you there was another first I wanted to share with you tonight?”

Her quiet words ground me as the magnitude of what she’s saying sinks in.

I’ve been super careful not to push her on that front in any way. I’m a year older, and at sixteen, she shouldn’t feel rushed to do anything before she’s ready.

She must sense my hesitancy because she reaches up and places a delicate hand on my cheek. “Please, El, I want us to be each other’s firsts. I love you.”

Fuck, how do I say no to that?

“I could never love anyone the way I love you.” I seal my promise with an ardent kiss. When I pull back to look around and assess the logistics, I grimace.

“What is it?” she asks.

“I wasn’t planning for this. I don’t have any protection with me.” It’s stupid of me. Our physical relationship has been progressing dangerously close to that line. I should have kept a condom in my wallet, but I didn’t want DiAngelo to see it and ask questions.

“I got on birth control.” Her eyes are wide, and she looks a little shocked at her own admission.

“You did?” I’m surprised she hasn’t mentioned it. We tell each other most everything, but I can see how that might feel awkward.

“Yeah,” she says on a shy breath. “I love you, El.”

I bring my lips to hers again, delighting when my tongue glides against hers.

“I love you, Ees. We do this together, yeah? You tell me if I’m hurting you?” Nerves cast a quiver in my voice. My heart thunders in my ears as I slowly lower her down to the blanket below us.

“You told them it was your yacht, and they believed you?” My brows arch incredulously as DiAngelo tells me about his night out.

“No, dumbass. I showed them pictures of me on the yacht and told them Dad was connected, which he is. If they falsely assumed I was a guest on the boat rather than cleaning it, that’s not my fault.”

I laugh because this is so typical of DiAngelo. “If by connected you mean a childhood friend who grew up to join the Mafia, then fair enough. Bet the girls were all over you after that.”

“You should have seen it, man. Like I was a god or something. Best damn summer job ever—way better than your busboy gig.”

“Yeah, sorry I couldn’t make it. It took hours for that damn headache to fade.” Guilt about lying to him is an iron cape pressing on my shoulders.

“You sure you don’t need to see a doctor?” His voice is wrought with concern.

So much guilt.

“Definitely. In fact, I feel a hell of a lot better than you look,” I try to reassure him. He’d know I was fine if I told him about Isa, but he’s been upset with me lately for being MIA. When he finds out I kept such a huge secret, he’ll be justifiably hurt. I want to make things right before I hit him with that.

He rubs his eyes. “That’s because I’m hungover as shit. Work is going to suck ass today.”

That’s when it hits me. The perfect opportunity—I’ll do him a solid, give him the day to recover, then tell him tonight.

“I tell you what, to make up for skipping out on you last night, I’ll work for you today. It’s my day off, anyway.”

“No way, man. You serious?”