Chapter 25 · Husband
"Say it again." Nico's hand hit the door over my shoulder, not on me, just boxing me in, close enough that I felt the heat coming off his chest through his shirt. "The name you wrote. Say it out loud."
"Eli." I didn't blink. "You read the license. You know what I wrote."
"I know what you wrote." His voice dropped, rough at the edges. "I want to hear you say why."
The apartment door hadn't even finished swinging shut behind us. My back was against it, his forearm braced beside my head, and the space between our mouths was maybe six inches, maybe less. I could smell the whiskey he hadn't finished at the reception, something warm and bitten under it that was just him.
"It's a job, Falcone." I said his last name on purpose, watched it land like a slap. "You paid for a husband. You got one. Real name, real signature. That's what you're contracted for."
"Don't call me Falcone in my own house." His jaw ticked. "You've called me Nico for three weeks. You don't get to go backward now because you're scared of what I'm about to say."
"I'm not scared of you.
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