His Juliet: An Age Gap Hurt Comfort Mafia Romance (Empire of Royals Book 2)

My life certainly hadn’t been devoid of dark, scary things happening in the night, but this definitely won first place for the strangest situation I’d found myself in. I should have been screaming, crying, fighting… something other than taking another bite of pizza to appease Romeo’s stern expression. My kidnapper—no, that wasn’t quite right… party-crasher?—seemed very concerned about me getting enough dinner.

Besides my mini panic attack, which had subsided surprisingly quickly with Romeo holding my hands, I couldn’t muster up the energy to freak out. There had always been something messed up inside me that made me feel calmer when faced with danger than when things were going well.

I frowned as Romeo ate another slice of my pizza. Not that I could eat an entire large pie, but I wanted leftovers. I’d splurged on delivery from my favorite pizzeria since it was inventory night. I’d gotten a huge shipment of books this afternoon and needed to catalog them all before putting them on the floor.

I usually liked inventory night. I could sink into the boring, monotonous work, usually while listening to an audiobook or podcast.

The handsome, playful man in front of me was anything but boring.

I still wasn’t completely sure any of this was real. I’d fully expected to lose my mind at some point, although I wasn’t sure my brain was capable of conjuring this man. His long legs stretched out next to mine. It would barely take anything for me to brush my jeans-clad legs against his. He was wearing a black suit with no tie, and the top buttons of his shirt were undone to reveal his golden-brown chest. His black hair—with a few strands of silver scattered in—had that messy, unstyled look that somehow looked hot and put-together at the same time. Stubble lined his firm jaw, and I felt myself blushing under his heated gaze.

He looked like a fucking Greek god.

Or Italian, I supposed.

“You know the rules of the game, right?”

Duh. Truth or Dare was a staple in the girls’ home I lived in for a few years. It was how we’d passed the time so many nights.

“Truth or Dare isn’t a drinking game,” I said.

“Ahh, that’s where you’re wrong. Anything can be a drinking game, sweet Juliet, if you try hard enough. If you refuse to answer the truth or do the dare, you must take a drink.”

My lips curved into a smile. Was I really going to play Truth or Dare with the scary, hot criminal? It looked like it.

“Alright, Romeo.” I didn’t for a second believe that was his real name. It wasn’t like he was the first one to crack a Romeo and Juliet joke after learning my name. “Truth or dare?”

He grinned. “Dare.”

I resisted rolling my eyes. Of course he would choose dare. My best friend, Breanna, had always chosen dare when we’d played. But she’d always been fearless, and now that she was gone, she’d taken all my bravery with her.

“I dare you to leave my store.”

Romeo shook his head. “I’m hurt.” But his expression was all smiles as he took a sip of scotch. “Your turn, beautiful. Truth or dare?”

I pursed my lips. Romeo was obviously a massive flirt and probably called tons of women beautiful. I hated how much I loved it.

“Truth.”

“What’s your idea of a perfect day?”

I blinked. The question was not at all what I had expected, especially not paired with Romeo’s open expression, like he actually wanted to know the answer.

An uncomfortable, clawing feeling formed in my chest at the thought of answering honestly, of being vulnerable. These past few years, I’d built up my impenetrable walls. But I would never see this man again, and this whole night carried an air of unrealness. What did I have to lose?

I gripped the tiny tequila bottle, fighting the urge to take a sip just to combat my anxiety.

“I guess it starts with sleeping in and then breakfast at the bagel shop next to my apartment. And then I open the store and order pizza for dinner…” I trailed off, unable to meet Romeo’s eyes. My perfect day sounded beyond pathetic, but how could I admit that my agoraphobia had gotten so bad I was too scared to go anywhere besides the bagel shop, bodega, and bookstore? How could I answer honestly when all I wanted was one more day with Breanna? The one thing I couldn’t have because my friend was dead and I hadn’t saved her.

“What I’m hearing is that I have interrupted your perfect day, and improved it.”

I snorted, finally brave enough to meet his gaze. There was no judgement in his eyes, and some of the tension in my shoulders eased.

“I’m sure your perfect day is being chased by some murderous mystery man and stealing someone’s pizza as you hold them hostage.”

He winked. “You’ve got it.” It was so unfair how sexy he looked.

“Fine, your turn again. Truth or dare?”

This time he said truth, and it took me a minute to decide what I wanted to know about this man. I needed to use my question wisely.

“If you could have one superpower, what would it be?” I asked.

Maybe an unoriginal question, but sue me.

He tutted, his eyes dancing. “I expected better of you, Juliet.”

“Ugh, fine.” I wracked my brain for a better question. “What’s something no one knows about you?” I raised my eyebrows in challenge.

“Much better.” He paused to think. “I, um, took up a new hobby recently.” He ruffled his hair and I waited for his answer. What would it be? Weightlifting? Marathons? Destroying his enemies with his bare hands?

“Crocheting.”

“What?”

He shrugged, looking strangely embarrassed. I could have sworn his olive skin was tinged pink.

“Do you have pictures?” I asked, nodding at his phone. “I want to see.”

“Umm, I guess, yeah, I do.” He flipped through his phone for a minute before turning the screen towards me. It was a picture of a throw pillow made of granny squares. I didn’t crochet—I had no artistic talent—but I’d watched enough craft videos late at night to know a little bit about it.

“That’s really pretty,” I said, looking back at Romeo. Now there was no denying that he was blushing.

“It’s not much, but it passes the time,” he said gruffly, putting the phone down beside him. “Truth or dare?” he asked, obviously trying to change the subject.noveldrama

“Truth.”

“If you could have any superpower, what would it be?”

I let out a laugh and leaned forward to shove his arm. “Oh, come on.”

“You must answer,” he said, looking smug. “It’s the rule.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. I’d like the power of invisibility.”

Romeo studied me carefully. “You could never be invisible.”

Now it was my turn to blush. He sounded so sincere, and it confused me. I’d spent the past two years being invisible.

“Mine would be the ability to fly, by the way,” he said. “But I won’t count that as my turn. I’ll take another truth.”

I needed to make this a good one. If I had my phone, I could have searched for question ideas. I played with my bottle of tequila, taking another sip, until I landed on one. “If you could ask a crystal ball any question, what would it be?”

Now it was his turn to fiddle with his scotch bottle, and I was sure he would drink again instead of answering. But he put it on his lap and ran his fingers through his hair.

“I would ask if my father forgives me for not doing enough to save him.”

A lump formed in my throat, so intense I could barely breathe. Because it was my exact answer, too, except about Breanna.

His response made me feel instantly closer to him. Something about the late hour, low light, and knowing it was just the two of us locked in here alone made this all feel sacred.

I leaned forward and grabbed his hand, like he had mine earlier when I was freaking out. “I know what that’s like. I wish I could say I know he’d forgive you, but I’m not sure that I’m forgiven, either.” How could Breanna forgive me when I didn’t deserve it? How could I forgive myself?

“Who did you lose?” he asked, voice hoarse as he twined our fingers together.

“My friend.”

He nodded. We sat there for a moment until it grew too intimate and we both pulled back. I let out a watery chuckle and took a sip of my tequila. It burned as it went down.

Romeo leaned forward and tucked my hair behind my ear. “I love this,” he said, running his fingers down the pink strands.

“My friends taught me how to do it.” I smiled at the memory of Breanna and Daniela sneaking bleach and hair dye into our rooms and dying all our hair. I’d finally figured out how to give myself a decent ombre balayage, and it was one of the few things that actually made me feel pretty.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked suddenly.

“Pretty sure you have to ask me truth or dare first,” I said, grinning.

He let out a sound almost like a growl. “Fine. Truth or dare?”

I chose dare, just to mess with him. He shook his head, his lips twisting into a reluctant smile. “You’re trouble. Okay… what should I make you do?”

He leaned forward until our faces were so close I thought he might kiss me, or dare me to kiss him. A thrill of something seized my chest, but I wasn’t sure if it was fear or excitement. Romeo blinked before sitting back, leaning against the counter. He looked around and grabbed a set of Sharpies I had lying on a stack of books.

“I want you to give me a temporary tattoo,” he said.

I cocked an eyebrow.

“On my chest.”

Before I knew what was happening, he’d whipped off his shirt and was handing me a marker.

“Right here, above my heart.” He tapped the right side of his pec. I blinked. The statue of David had nothing on Romeo. His chest was broad, muscular, and firm. His skin was smooth and golden brown, with a dusting of dark hair leading all the way down to…

My face burned when I realized I’d been staring at his crotch. Romeo’s smug expression told me he knew exactly what I’d been doing. Whatever. Everyone probably stared at him.

“I’m pretty sure your heart is on the left side,” I said with a sniff. But I moved in until I was close enough to feel the heat of his skin. Our eyes met, but I averted mine quickly. “Just warning you, I am not an artist.”

Romeo just stretched and put his hands behind his head, giving me full access to his chest. “Have your way with me, stellina.”

I scrunched my nose and considered what I wanted to draw. Before I could psych myself out too much, I braced one hand on his chest and started drawing with the other. His skin was so warm against mine. It was impossible to ignore how large and powerful his body was, being this close. I should have been terrified. He could do anything to me right now and I wouldn’t be able to fight him off. I must have been more broken than I thought because fear was not what I felt coursing through my body. I blushed as I put the final touches on his “tattoo.” It was as childish and hideous as I imagined it would be, but when I sat back—reluctantly removing my hand from his skin—Romeo looked down at it and beamed.

“It’s perfect.”

I snorted. I’d drawn a wonky heart with an arrow going through it… with my name written in the middle. Now that he was looking at it, I felt embarrassed that I’d put my name on him. But Romeo just traced his fingers down along the sharpie marks.

“I like having your name on me. Feels like it belongs there.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I muttered. I took another big gulp of tequila to distract myself from whatever was going on between us. Nothing about this night was real, and maybe that gave me just enough freedom to embrace it.