Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“Becca is really pretty,” I said.
“Yeah,” Rocco said noncommittally.
“You guys together or . . . ?”
He gave a shrug. “Just a situationship. Sometimes we see each other, sometimes we don’t.” He took a drink of his wine. He was a lot more closed off than Constantine. Said very little. Showed almost no emotion.
“I asked Constantine if you were his best friend, and he said he didn’t want to put a label on it.”
Rocco’s eyebrows furrowed like he was about to laugh, then he looked at Constantine. “That true?”
Constantine moved his hand to my thigh under the table and gave me a playful squeeze. “Thanks for throwing me under the bus, sweetheart.”
Rocco continued to stare him down. “Answer the question.”
“Of course you’re my best friend,” he said. “Jesus.”
Rocco switched his gaze to me. “You know how many times he’s told me I’m his best friend?”
“Just trying not to sound like a pussy in front of my girl,” Constantine said as he shook his head. “Jeez.”
“Well, I think it’s cute if you call him your best friend.” My hand moved to his thigh under the table, purposely close to his happy place.
“Yeah?” Constantine asked with a grin.
“Yeah.”
“We did shower together that one time at the gym,” he said.
Rocco released a loud laugh. “Wow, you’re really going to tell her about that?”
“Ooh, I want to know everything.” Two sexy naked dudes in the shower together. Goddamn.
“It was years ago,” Constantine said. “We worked out together, but all the showers except one were broken, so . . .” He gave a guilty shrug. “It was one of those rooms where there’re shower heads everywhere.”
“Like in prison?” I asked incredulously.
“Yeah,” he said with a chuckle. “You could say that.”
“Oh my god, that’s so hot.”
Constantine wasn’t the least bit offended by or jealous because of the comment. “Yep, definitely best friends after that.”
“We’d have to be to pull that off and still talk to each other,” Rocco said.
“And not fuck each other.” I smirked as I looked at the two of them.
“Con is a very good-looking man but not my type,” Rocco said before he took another drink of his wine.
“Becca is a lucky woman, but yeah, I definitely prefer you.” His fingers started to slide underneath my dress to my panties beneath. “All that ass and boobage . . . and those eyes are killer.”
“Did you mean to say eyes?” Rocco teased. “Or something else . . .”
Constantine rolled his eyes but didn’t rise to the taunt.
I was certain they talked about me when I wasn’t around, but it didn’t bother me. Even if Constantine shared every little detail describing my body and our intimacy, it still wouldn’t bother me.
Becca returned from the bathroom. “So what did you guys talk about while I was gone?”
“The time that Constantine and Rocco showered together,” I said.
Her eyes snapped wide open, and she looked at Constantine and then at Rocco. “Got any pictures or . . . ?”
The car pulled up outside of Saint Peter’s Basilica, and Constantine helped me out of the back seat. Despite my conservative outfit, I still wore my sky-high stilettos to give my ass a little oomph. It was all cobblestone here, so I’d have to hold Constantine’s arm if I was going to make it without breaking a leg. He couldn’t carry me here and flash my ass to all the spectators who’d come to participate in mass.
We were guided to a separate entrance into the basilica and then placed in a line before we were allowed to enter. I’d been in the basilica before on a tour, but it was a long time ago and full of tons of tourists who’d come from all over the world.
It was not an event like this.
Constantine stood with me, his arm around my waist.
I recognized people in the line ahead of us, the prime minister of England, the vice president of the United States, the president of France, people who had come all the way here on a holiday.
I felt completely out of place. “I have never been so nervous in all my life.”
He started to rub my back. “I’ll do all the talking, all right?” He brought me in close and kissed my temple. “Just stand there and look pretty.”
One by one, people were ushered inside, probably to meet the pope one-on-one before the ceremony began.
I couldn’t believe I was in this line at all.
The prime minister went next, and then shortly after him the vice president of the United States.
“I told him about you.”
“Who?” I asked. “The pope?”
“I told my uncle about you.”
“What did you say?”
“That I’d met someone. Told him your name. He said he was happy for me.” He took a step forward after the president of France entered the basilica. “He’s not the kind of man that says a lot, as I’m sure you can imagine.”