The Perfect Fit: A stand-alone why choose romance(58)

I tilt my head. “Aw. They are cute.”

She nods, a huge smile on her face. “You like dogs.”

“Who doesn’t?” I wrap my arm around her shoulder as she scrolls through more images.

“Some people don’t,” she says in a sad tone, but before I can pick that apart, she goes on. “I always wanted a Rottweiler puppy.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, I’d call him Snowflake.”

I bark out a laugh. “Snowflake? A huge black Rottweiler named Snowflake?”

“Yeah.” She giggles. “I like the irony.”

“I’ve always wanted a dog too, but West and Zeke won’t let me get one.” That isn’t entirely true. If I insisted, they’d jump on board, but their objections always manage to talk me out of it. Apparently puppies are a big responsibility.

“They’re so mean.”

I kiss her sweet-smelling neck. “But if you were to ask for a puppy …” I trail my kisses lower.

“They’d tell me I was crazy,” she says in a breathy tone.

I stop kissing her neck and stare into her bright green eyes. “No. They’d do anything for you, shorty. We all would. Don’t you know that?” She bites down on the soft cushion of her bottom lip, eyes shining as she blinks at me. Holy fuck, she has no idea how much we need her, want her, love her. My chest tightens and I struggle to breathe. Is someone sucking the air from the room?

“You would?” she whispers, her dark eyelashes fluttering against her pink cheeks.

I take her laptop from her hands and place it on the couch, then pull her onto my lap to straddle me. My fingers caress her cheeks, brushing her hair from her face. “I love you, shorty. I can’t believe I never told you that before today, because I think I’ve loved you from the moment you handed me your roach-infested backpack.”

“I love you too, Xander.”

I dust my mouth over hers, and her warm breath mingles with mine. She tastes of coffee and chocolate, and I want to devour her whole. My fucking phone rings before I can. Pulling it from my pocket, I read the text from West. We need you here at the office. It’s important.

Squeezing my eyes closed, I sigh. “I gotta go, shorty.” I give her a quick kiss, barely refraining from sliding my tongue into her mouth and taking what I need from her.





“Wait a fucking minute, you’ve had a PI following Lily and you never told me?” I scowl at Zeke and West. “What the fuck?”

“I told you what Bree told us about her, Xander,” West says, trying to justify this shitshow.

I slam my fist on his desk. “And I told you she’s a crazy fuckbucket who can’t be trusted.”

“We know she is, but I asked Zeke to check out what she said anyway. Just to be sure. I didn’t know about the PI until just now.”

I retrain my glare on Zeke. He scowls back. “Since when do either of you ever question my methods? I get shit done, and you don’t usually give a fuck how I do it.”

“Because this is Lily we’re talking about, you asshole. Fucking Li-ly.” I overenunciate her name to remind him who we’re discussing here. There’s no fucking way Bree is right about her. No way in hell.

A throat clears, and we all turn our attention to Spencer, the PI standing awkwardly in the corner.

Zeke sighs and glares at me. “Tell us what you found, Spencer.”

“Your girl went to the Valencia Hotel. Took the elevator to the presidential suite, then went into a man’s room. Stayed for an hour and left.”

West bounces on his toes. Spencer’s about to get a punch in the face if he’s not careful. “You’re telling us that she went into some guy’s hotel room and stayed for an hour?”

“An hour and six minutes to be exact.”

West’s hand balls into a fist at his side, and I grab his forearm before he literally kills the messenger. “There could be a perfectly reasonable explanation.”

“Who the fuck was he?” Zeke demands.

Spencer’s Adam’s apple bobs, and my stomach sinks. The fear on his face is scaring the shit out of me.

“Who?” West barks.

Spencer winces. “Nico Constantine.”

West’s face turns an unnatural shade of gray. Zeke kicks a chair, sending it flying across the office. I put my head in my hands. What the fuck, shorty?

“Nico fucking Constantine?” West spits the name out like poison.

Spencer nods. “Then on her way out, she ran into another guy who’s affiliated with Carmine Constantine. I grabbed a picture.” He takes his cell phone from his coat pocket and presses a few buttons. A second later, we all get an alert notification.

My heart breaks at the image on my screen. Not because she’s hugging some guy I’ve never seen, but because she wears a look of sheer joy on her face. This isn’t some casual acquaintance; he means something to her.

Zeke slams his fist down on the desk. “You have anything else to share?”

Spencer clears his throat. “No, that’s everything.”

“Then get the fuck out.”

Spencer quickly follows Zeke’s command, leaving the three of us alone with the bomb he just dropped.

West sinks into a chair across from me. “Nico fucking Constantine,” he says again with a shake of his head. “What the actual fuck?”