Love Arranged (Lakefront Billionaires, #3)(27)

“Tienes treinta y un a?os, por el amor de Dios. No te comportes así.”IV

Lorenzo smirks as he replies in Spanish, “Treinta y uno y todavía molesto conmigo por lo de Papá Noel.”I

Lorenzo speaking Spanish was not on tonight’s bingo card—that’s for sure.

“You speak Spanish?” Dahlia’s mouth remains wide open.

“Surprise.” Lorenzo arches a brow at my sister. “And yes, I’ve heard you and Julian talk shit about me before.”

Julian grumbles something under his breath.

Dahlia glances between them both. “So, can we get back to the important subject here?”

“Yes,” I add. “Who’s going to explain the Santa thing?”

“It’s stupid,” Julian mutters.

Lorenzo shakes his head. “Is it? Because you’re still holding it against me to this day.”

Dahlia and I both wait for one of them to explain.

Julian takes the initiative. “Lorenzo thought it would be a great idea to ruin Christmas for our soccer team when we were little.”

On the Eros app, Lorenzo mentioned playing soccer when he was in elementary school, but I didn’t connect him playing on the same team as Julian until now.

“You two played soccer together?” I ask.

“Not for long. Lorenzo got booted after the whole Santa scandal. Apparently selfish assholes shouldn’t be allowed to participate in team sports.”

Lorenzo shrugs. “With how much you all sucked, it was a blessing in disguise.”

“We were eight.”

“Excuses, excuses.”

“Will you two ever get bored of antagonizing each other?” my sister asks.

“No,” they both say at the same time.

Dahlia laughs. “Right. Just checking.”

“But for Lily’s sake, I’m willing to put our past aside.” Lorenzo looks over at me, his dark eyes full of mischief.

“Can we have a quick chat in private?”

Lorenzo slides off the barstool before making a show of pulling mine out. “Lead the way.”





___________________

I Dije algo mal: Did I say something wrong?

II Puedes tratar de comportarte bien: Can you try to behave?

III ?l empezó: He started it.

IV Tienes treinta y un a?os, por el amor de Dios. No te comportes así: You’re 31 years old, for the love of God. Act like it.

I Treinta y uno y todavía molesto conmigo por lo de Papá Noel: 31 years old and still bothered with me about Santa Claus.





CHAPTER TEN


Lorenzo


The crowd on the dance floor parts to give Lily and me enough room to walk across it without issue. I get an array of looks in return, ranging from a couple of winks and a slap on the back to a scowl or two from men and women alike.

Lily doesn’t stop to check if I’m following her down the hall until she opens the emergency exit, which leads to an empty alley behind the bar. We both have been here before, although the last time she was wearing a pink bedazzled outfit and I was hiding behind a mask.

“Well, isn’t this a trip down memory lane?” I ask with a dry tone.

She slams the door shut and whirls around, her hair whipping me in the face in the process.

“What the hell was that back there?” She pokes me in the chest. “You spent the last several months ignoring me, only to have a complete personality transplant?”

“There’s a good reason.”

“I’m waiting to hear it.”

I stroke my chin. “I have a theory, but you’d need to sign an NDA first.”

She scowls. “I’m not signing an NDA, so either you trust me to keep whatever private information you share tonight between us or I head inside and go back to ignoring your existence like you’ve done for nearly a year.”

“You can’t.” I rush to get the words out.

“Why not?”

“Because I need you.”

She laughs, but it’s hollow. “Let me guess—this has something to do with the campaign.”

“Yes.”

“You seriously think I’m going to let you use me for political gain when you don’t even like me?”

I blink twice. “I never said I disliked you.”

“Your actions say otherwise.” She looks away with a dismissive scoff.

I’m driven by some unknown force when I reach for her chin and direct her head back to me.

“If my actions said anything, it was that I liked you too damn much, Lily. That was my problem. Never you.”

I don’t know what I expected, but her shoving my hand away isn’t it. Neither is her jabbing me in the chest with an impressive amount of strength.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? Or special?” Her upper lip curls. “Because the way you ghosted me isn’t how you treat someone you like too much.”

I deserve her anger and worse, so I take it without interrupting, even when it kills me to see the pain in her eyes.

“We spent two months talking, Lorenzo. Two months of you being the first person I texted in the morning, and two months of you being the last person I spoke to before I went to sleep. It was nearly impossible to get you to share anything personal, but when you did—like that story about when your uncle broke your nose—it felt like we were finally getting somewhere.”