Let Me Love You
Brittney Sahin
PROLOGUE
Maria
Six Years Ago—New York City
“Why aren’t they hanging out with us? I thought we were here to celebrate?” I tipped my chin toward the bar, and my sister swiveled on her seat to put eyes on our “bodyguard” and his brothers.
We were sitting at a table inside a nautical-themed bar in Greenwich Village, not too far from where she lived, celebrating my twenty-third birthday.
“I think they’re trying to be polite and give us time to chat. This is just our warm-up spot.” Natalia turned back to face me while fidgeting with the neckline of her black dress, attempting to hide her cleavage.
“So we’re pregaming, huh?” I snatched my espresso martini, ready to take my first sip of the night.
“Something like that.” Natalia smiled. “You did fly up here for your birthday, so I want to make sure you enjoy yourself.”
“I owe Enzo a huge thank-you for surprising me with a plane ticket.”
“He knew how much I missed you.”
And here I was hoping he secretly wanted to see me. I almost laughed out loud at the ridiculous idea as my eyes landed on Enzo, our so-called bodyguard for the evening.
I hadn’t expected to find him looking at me, and I nearly spilled my drink. My free hand slid up the column of my throat as I counted backward, giving myself three more Mississippi seconds to look at Enzo before focusing on my sister.
“Maria, Maria.”
Thank God for the shitty lighting so she couldn’t spot the stain of embarrassment on my cheeks. Of course, she’d already read me, her lips twitching with mild amusement. It was her I-caught-your-hand-in-the-cookie-jar type of smile, one she used whenever she knew I was daydreaming. Or in “la-la land,” as our mother called it.
“What?” I nervously giggled, casually trying to downplay that I’d been caught lusting over one of the Costa brothers.
When my sister had moved to New York, our parents had reached out to the Costa family, their longtime friends, and asked them to keep an eye on her. Out of the three Costa sons, Enzo had the privilege of being assigned to play the dutiful role of bodyguard on nights like these. She and Enzo had become close friends, practically like family, these last few years, too.
“We may not live near each other right now, but that doesn’t mean I forgot your poker face,” Natalia teased.
I set down my drink, threading my fingers together on my lap before I spilled both the martini and my naughty thoughts about Enzo. “Speaking of the whole not-living-near-each-other thing . . . I really can’t wait for you to come home.”
We grew up in a small town outside Charlotte, and while I could see the appeal of New York, I knew I’d never survive more than a week in such a big city; otherwise, I’d probably have moved with her.
“One or two more years, then I’ll be back. It’s been an experience, that’s for sure. Busting my ass working at two restaurants and a bar learning the ropes, all so I—”
“Can open your own place back home,” I finished for her, hoping I hadn’t made her feel guilty for being away. “I know. I’m sorry. And I’m super excited for you. You’ve known what you wanted to do since you were ten. And here I am at twenty-three and still clueless.”
“You don’t need to rush.”
“Yeah, I kind of do.” My English degree wasn’t doing much for me in the workplace. And the extra student-loan debt was now heavy on my shoulders.
“Well, you’ll figure out your thing, I’m sure of it.”
“I’m working three jobs that barely pay minimum wage to afford my student loans and avoid living with Mom and Dad. All I really care about is reading, and I don’t think ‘professional reader’ is a thing.”
“Or is it?” Natalia smirked. “You never know. I mean, you do change your personality based on whatever book you’re reading like it’s a job.”
“I do not.” I laughed. Okay, not totally. I was more like an empty vessel of nothingness, and books filled me up in ways nothing else seemed to.
Taking another sip to try and dull the worries still fluttering around in my head, I felt the liquid go down the wrong pipe, and I smacked my chest while coughing. Real smooth, Maria.
When I set the glass down, I felt him watching me. I chanced a look in Enzo’s direction and was met with his concerned gaze.
Enzo mouthed, “You okay?”
How’d he hear me coughing over the loud Bon Jovi song playing? The man really was great at watching over us.