“Nixon, it’s fine. I’m—”
Ignoring her, I lifted her body into my arms and nodded to the girls. “See you tomorrow. Oh and Mil, Chase already went back to the room. He seemed… upset. You should go.” Liar, liar, pants on fire. Holy shit, I was officially turning into Tex, all cheese and no seriousness. I needed some damn sleep.
“Oh.” She stood so suddenly that I could tell she got dizzy. She grasped the chair and gave me a weak smile. “Uh, is it safe for me to—”
“No problem,” I interrupted. “Vegas is basically the safest place for you to be. Cameras are everywhere, especially in this hotel. It’s why Luca chose it.”
“Thanks.” Mil walked by me, leaving Mo all by herself.
“Should I send Tex?”
Trace was starting to get heavy, but clearly she didn’t care. She was already sleeping against my chest.
“I’m a big girl.” Mo took a drink of wine. “I’ll go up when I’m ready.”
“Text me if you need anything.” I nodded and walked back into the hotel and down the hall to the Rush Tower.
“Nixon…” Trace moaned in my arms.
“What, sweetheart?” I hit the top floor button and slipped in my key card. The elevator jolted.
“Why won’t you marry me like Chase?”
“Chase proposed?” I joked. Well, it was kind of a joke, as in, I would have laughed before I pulled the trigger.
“No, he’s married.” She pushed against my chest like she was irritated with me for not tracking. “I mean, why won’t you and I marry?”
“Why won’t we?”
“Mmm.”
“Who says we won’t?”
“Mo.” Trace didn’t open her eyes but they squinted as if she was trying to open them but lacked the energy. “She said your head’s stuck in your ass.”
At that I laughed. “Oh yeah? What else did my favorite twin say?”
“You’re scared.”
And there went all that beer I’d just drunk… threatening to come right back up. Because my brilliant twin sister had hit the nail right on the head. Damn her.
I was terrified.
Of losing Trace.
Of having her.
Of losing her again.
It always went in that order.
“You’re drunk, Trace.” The doors opened. I carried her to the penthouse and shifted my weight so I could slide the card into the slot without putting her down. Once we were inside and by the couch, I gently placed her on the cushions. A few sensor lights clicked on, causing a dim glow to invade the room.
Trace seemed totally alert. Her wide eyes examined me from head to toe before stopping at my mouth. “I love you.”
“Trace.” I growled, kneeling down so we were at eye level. “You know I love you. I’m obsessed with you. I can’t live without you.”
“Is that why you’re scared?”
“Damn it.” I let myself sink to the floor, leaning my back against the couch as her legs dangled by my shoulders. “I can’t give you what you want, Trace.”
“What do you think I want?”
“Out.” I laughed without humor. “You want out. Out of this lifestyle, out of the family, out of the country, preferably anywhere but the US and Sicily.”
“Oh?” It wasn’t a good response; it reminded me of the way teachers answer you when you’re in school. The oh sounded mocking, irritated, sarcastic, and hot as hell.
“I know you, Trace.”
To be fair, I should have expected her to get upset; whenever she drank wine, she went from being bone weary to so aggressive I’d tied her up once.
Best night of my life.
Until she’d puked.
So it was a really good half hour.
“I hate you sometimes.” Trace moved from the couch to my lap, smacking me lightly on the cheek. “I don’t want out, you bastard.”
What? “But, Trace, you asked on the plane—”
“I was being a woman.” She all but shouted. “Yes, I wish circumstances were different, but leaving this life would be like leaving part of you behind, and I’m kind of a fan of every part.”
I smirked. “Admit it, you have your favorites.” I moved against her just to show her exactly what I was talking about then nipped her ear, slowly kissing down her neck and pulling back to gaze into her eyes.
“Ass.” She punched my shoulder. “I swear, the more time you hang out with Chase and Tex, the more ridiculous you get.”
“Part of my charm.”
“You’re not charming.” She crossed her arms and looked away. “You’re sexy but not charming.”
“Charming and sexy,” I corrected.
“Nixon…” Her hands cupped my face. “I just want you. Forever. That’s what I want. I don’t want to have to worry that you’re going to run.”
“So you do want to tie me up?”
Trace rolled her eyes. “Be serious.”
“Fine.” I kissed her mouth. “Tell you what. Anything — and I do mean anything — you want is yours. So ask.”
“I can’t.” Her face fell. “Because then it’s not romantic.”
“Romance isn’t really a strong point for me. Sex? Absolutely, but romance?”
“Stop.” She pushed against my chest. “You’re better than you give yourself credit for. I just want to know that it’s you and me for eternity, get it? I want proof of that.”