Nico

I’m bringing the vibes

Izzy

Regret. Immediate regret.

"How was your night?"

Cal’s voice pulls me back.

I turn, and he’s just there, steady and quiet, and somehow it’s enough to leave me off balance.

I cannot tell him the truth. I mean, how exactly do I explain that I spent my night drinking with Amanda before slipping into her guest bed and letting an AI version of him make me come so hard I saw God?

"Uh, good." I clear my throat. "We drank a lot. Gossiped. You know. Normal girl stuff."

"That's it?" His lips curve slow, knowing. "You hesitated. What are you not telling me?"

I internally combust.

"Nothing!" I wave a hand, staring hard at the road ahead. "Just... a lot of wine. A lot of girl talk. You don't wanna hear it."

"Oh, I don't?"

"Nope." I shake my head rapidly. "Absolutely not."

"Hm." He taps his fingers against the wheel. "So... what were you two gossiping about?"

I groan, slouching down in my seat.

"Cal."

"Izzy."

I shoot him a glare. "Fine. We talked about how hot you are. Happy?"

He lets out a soft, amused laugh, then cuts me a side glance. "Yeah. Actually."

I roll my eyes. He's impossible. Thankfully, he changes the subject before I have to throw myself out of the car.

"Tell me about your family," he says, his voice still laced with amusement.

I make a face akin to a grimace. "Okay. Well." I start counting on my fingers. "You've got my dad, the quiet one who mostly drinks wine and laughs while my brothers terrorize me. He's got these two yappy Pomeranians he named Tony Soprano and Lady Gaga that he sneaks prosciutto to under the table. Mama will kill him if she ever catches him."

Cal raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Then there's my mom, the walking embodiment of Catholic guilt. She cornered the priest after Mass last week to ask him what novena she should pray to find me a husband. She's convinced my 'biological clock is ticking like a time bomb.'" I make air quotes, rolling my eyes. "My Nonna has been praying for my wedding since I was sixteen and will definitely try to cop a feel when she meets you."

His eyes widen just slightly. "Sorry, what?"

"Oh, she likes to squeeze biceps. It's her thing. Just... be prepared."

His lips twitch. "And your brothers?"

I let out a deep breath.

"Matteo, the oldest. Married with child. He's the level-headed, responsible one. The one who's going to pull me aside and have a Very Serious Talk with me about you."

Cal hums, like he's expecting that.

"Then there's Luca. The hot-headed one. He already hates you."

"Oh, does he?"

"Yep. Thinks I can do better."

"Smart guy."

I snort, shaking my head. "And then there's Nico. The flirt, the troublemaker. He's going to try to arm wrestle you at the dinner table. Just a warning."

Cal nods, absorbing all of this information like he's mentally preparing for battle. "Should I be worried?"

I squint at him, pretending to assess his odds. "I'd say... seventy-thirty chance you walk out of this unscathed."

"Not bad."

I raise an eyebrow. "I didn't say which way the odds were leaning."

He chuckles again, but then we're pulling up to my family's house, and suddenly, I'm reconsidering all of my life choices. Cal parks, kills the engine, then turns to me, one arm draped over the steering wheel, the other resting against his thigh. He's completely calm. Meanwhile, I'm internally screaming.

"Are you sure?" I ask, my voice a little higher than I'd like. "Last chance to back out. I'll still think you're hot and sexy and all that even if you don't wanna meet my family."

His eyes glint with amusement. Then, he reaches over, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers trailing slow against my skin.

"Let's go, pretty girl," he murmurs.

Well. That's definitely one way to get me out of the car.

The moment we step inside the house, all hell breaks loose. Tony Soprano and Lady Gaga come tearing around the corner, yapping at eighty decibels, their tiny paws scrabbling on the tile as they circle our legs like sharks. Dad shouts from somewhere in the house, "Don't let them out!" while Mama's voice carries from the kitchen, already complaining about something boiling over.

Nonna is the first human to descend. She grabs Cal's face in her hands, pulling him down so she can aggressively kiss both of his cheeks, all while speaking rapid-fire Italian that I barely catch. Something about how strong he looks, how he must eat well, and "Madonna, those arms!" Then, to my absolute horror, she squeezes his bicep, letting out a low whistle before crossing herself and muttering what sounds suspiciously like a prayer of thanks.

I barely have time to translate before Luca and Nico appear, standing shoulder to shoulder like two men who have been training for this moment their entire lives. Matteo is a beat behind them, holding his baby girl in one arm and a glass of wine in the other, watching the scene unfold with the same look of amusement as my dad.

Cal takes it all in stride.

"Callahan, right?" Luca says, arms crossed over his chest. I may have texted the family chat that I was bringing him for dinner.

"That's me."

"You a cop?"

Cal chuckles. "No."

Nico tilts his head. "FBI?"

"Nope."

"Military?"

Cal's jaw ticks slightly, but he gives them an easy nod. "Used to be."

Luca and Nico exchange a look.

Matteo clears his throat. "You have experience with a gun?"

"I have experience with a lot of things."

Oh. Oh no. I need to get him out of here before my brothers eat him alive.

"Okay!" I clap my hands together, stepping between them before they can start an actual interrogation. "Let's not grill the poor man five seconds after he walks through the door."

"Oh, we're just getting started, Izzy," Luca quips, throwing his arm over my shoulder before turning back to Cal with a devious smile.

I know that look. That is the look of a man who has a plan. And that means I have to get Cal out of here.

"Mama needs help in the kitchen!" I blurt, peeling Luca's arm off me. "So, Cal and I will be⁠—"

Matteo cuts in smoothly. "Actually, Iz, that's perfect. Why don't you help Mama? Poor woman doesn't get nearly enough help these days."

“Wait, what?”

Nico claps a hand on Cal's shoulder. "We're just gonna borrow your boyfriend for a second."

I narrow my eyes. "Absolutely not." I don't even have time to clarify that he's not my boyfriend. Or, is he? I'm not even sure, but I definitely don't have time to figure that out right now.

Luca grins, grabbing Cal's other shoulder. "Oh, come on. He's gotta pass the test, right?"

Cal allows them to lead him toward the back door. "It'll be fine," he says to me with a wink.

"I don't like this!" I call after them.

"Noted!" Luca yells back, laughing as they disappear outside.

I turn, desperate for backup, but my dad just claps me on the shoulder.

"Don't worry, sweetheart." He sips his wine. "Boys will be boys."

I glare at him. Then I groan. And then I storm into the kitchen.