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That wink did something profound to Bennett’s insides.

He suddenly wished it wasn’t the middle of the day and that he and Nico were alone. Bennett had an overwhelming urge to wrap his mouth around Nico’s dick.

I am so gone for this man.

When it was over, Nico and the three other men seemed like old friends. They kissed cheeks and slapped backs, and Nico put Francesco’s number in his phone. He thanked them—a word Bennett understood—but the old men waved away the gratitude as if it were unnecessary.

Francesco walked with Nico over to where Bennett waited. Then the older man grabbed Bennett’s hand and held it, patting the back fondly. “Grazie, signore. Thank you for bringing him today.”

“My pleasure. It seemed like everyone had a good time.” His gaze flicked to Nico, as though daring him to deny it. But Nico just wore the same soft, fond smile he’d adopted since spotting these three old men today.

“I tell him he has to come back,” Francesco said. “This is the most games I’ve won in eight years.”

“I will be back,” Nico promised. “And I will bring my cousins next time. Te lo prometto.”

His cousins. Not Bennett.

Nico’s promise filled the space between where they stood, reverberating inside Bennett like a bomb. Right. His family. Bennett supposed it made sense. This place wasn’t their thing; it couldn’t be. Bennett wasn’t a permanent part of Nico’s life. He wasn’t a boyfriend or partner. Or family. Not even a friend—just a random man Nico was occasionally fucking in secret.

It was the clarity Bennett needed. Even if it hurt.

They said their farewells. Nico gestured for Bennett to walk out first, so he started for the exit, trying not to think too much. It wasn’t easy. Bennett liked to overthink things, to analyze and examine, but he didn’t want to imagine Nico coming back here without him. Taking this gesture and replacing Bennett with someone else.

You are replaceable.

Today made clear that Bennett was not a part of Nico’s life, not in that way. And honestly, it was for the best. Bennett couldn’t claim Nico publicly, so better to keep this casual and only about sex. No more showers or cookies or cuddling. Those things—relationship things—were for others, not Bennett. He and Nico weren’t a couple, and imagining this as a date was laughable. How had he let Lauren talk him into this?

Embarrassment crept up his neck. He straightened his shoulders and told himself none of this mattered. He had a great career, with all the money, accolades, and awards a man could ever dream of. Who needed anything else?

“Where is your car?” Nico asked quietly behind him as they pushed outside the exit door.

“I’m parked there,” Bennett said, pointing to his Range Rover. “Well, I hope you had a good time. I’ll see you around, okay?” That sounded friendly, almost professional. Bennett was proud of himself. He even offered Nico a casual wave over his shoulder and kept moving forward. Just keep going. It’s almost over and then you can pretend this never happened.

Footsteps sounded behind him. He glanced back and found Nico trailing him. “What are you doing?”

“Walking you to your car.”

“Why?”

“Stop asking questions, Bennett.”

Bossy. Okay, this was familiar territory.

Bennett unlocked the Rover. Nico was close on his heels, but Bennett didn’t understand why. They were in public. His cousin was parked right there—the cousin Nico was bringing back to play bocce with the old men. Nico couldn’t be planning anything more than a handshake.

When Bennett tried to open his car door, Nico put his hand out, stopping him. Then Nico reached for the handle and pulled it, opening the door for Bennett. “Thanks,” Bennett said weakly, standing woodenly, unsure what to do. Opening doors was a date thing, but this wasn’t a date.

He’d just figured Nico out, and here the mobster was surprising him all over again.

“This is when you get in.” Nico waved his hand toward the interior of the car.

“Right.” Bennett climbed in and then Nico closed the door. Bennett expected Nico to walk away, but he stood there, rugged and sexy and dressed like an Italian menswear model. Then he tapped his knuckle on the window. Oh. After starting the car, Bennett turned down the volume on his music and slid the window down.

Nico didn’t speak right away. He stared at Bennett intensely, his deep brown eyes mesmerizing and beautiful, almost gold in the dying afternoon light. But it was Nico’s mouth that captured Bennett’s attention. This was not the hard, unforgiving slash Nico wore in public. No, this was the soft mouth Bennett received when they were in bed together. The private mouth that liked to do filthy things and whisper dirty words. The one that liked to murmur endearments.

Bennett had no defenses against this mouth.

“Today was nice,” that mouth said quietly. “I am very grateful. Thank you, Bennett.”