By Any Other Name (4 page)

"Wow." He seemed taken aback. "You weren't exaggerating."

"Told you. Worst day ever."

"I'd offer you moral support, but well…" He laughed to himself. "My morals are questionable at best, so how about I buy you a drink when we get out of here instead?"

His words made her smile. "That's nice, but I'm not old enough to drink."

He hesitated. "How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"Ah, that's not bad. You're an adult. Besides, I said I had questionable morals, didn't I?"

"True." She felt the flush on her cheeks as she gazed at him, seeing the sincerity in his expression. "How old are you?"

"Old enough to buy you that drink, if you're up for it."

"Okay, uh..." She paused. "I don't even know your name."

"It's Matt."

"Matt, like short for Matthew?"

"Short for something, yes."

"Well, nice to meet you. You can call me Genna… Genna with a
G
and not a
J
. It's short for something, too, you could say."

"Genna."

The sound of her name from his lips sent a chill down her spine. She should've been upset, trapped in such a confined space with a virtual stranger, one whose eyes seemed to pierce through her with a scary intensity, but she oddly felt at ease. She liked the way he looked at her, the way he looked through her, like he really saw her.

People didn't look at her that way.

People always looked at her and saw her last name.

"So, Matt…"

"Call me Matty," he said. "It's what my friends call me."

"Matty," she repeated. "What brings you to criminal court?"

Dear God, don't let this stunning creature be some kind of perverted creep
.
I can't go out with a creep
.
Okay, maybe I can
.
Depends on how creepy
.
Ugh, please don't be creepy
.

"Kidnapping," he said. "They found a girl tied up in my trunk."

Her eyes widened. Okay, that wasn't creepy. That was fucking
insane
.

His expression shifted before she could respond. He let out a laugh. "I'm kidding. My brother's on trial."

"Your
brother
kidnapped a girl?"

"No." He paused. "Well..."

She gasped, eliciting another laugh from him.

"I'm messing with you. He just got into a little fight. Nothing big, just a run-of-the-mill neighborhood scuffle."

If she had something within reach to throw, she would've hurled it right at his head. "That's not funny!"

"Yeah, you're right, it's not," he agreed. "For the record, though, I only tie girls up when they ask me to."

His voice ventured into playful but there was a serious note to his words that made her flushed skin glow brighter. Not creepy, but maybe a little freaky.

Now freaky I
can
date
.

Looking away from him, she bit down on her bottom lip, trying to get herself together. Warm was putting it mildly. She could feel the sweat start forming along her brow. It was getting hot.

Sighing, Matty pulled his sweater off, tossing it on the elevator floor near her discarded shoes. Genna glanced over at him again as he shoved the sleeves of his white button-down up to his elbows. Vibrant color shined from his skin like a stained glass window woven into black etchings on his thick forearms. Tattoos. His arms were covered in
tattoos
. Genna let out an involuntary shaky breath, staring at them, captivated by the intricate designs.

Huh, so the God has a little bit of Devil in him...

"So tell me about yourself, Genna."

She grudgingly tore her gaze from his arms, meeting his eyes again. "Uh, there's not much to say. I've already spilled my guts to you."

"You told me about your bad day. Tell me about your good days."

"My good days?"

"Yes."

"Well... I guess I steal cars on my good days."

He laughed, slouching as he stretched his legs out. "Have you stolen a lot of cars?"

"Just the one. Guess I don't really have many good days. They're not all bad, they're just...
days
. That probably sounds stupid."

"No, I get it. Sometimes you just do what you gotta do to get through them."

"Exactly." Gorgeous
and
understanding?
Impossible
. "And my family, well... let's just say my father doesn't make it easy sometimes. He has all these rules and expects life to be lived to his standards, and I'm just not very good at following directions."

She was rambling.
Ugh, why am I rambling
? She hardly knew this guy, yet she was baring her soul like a dying hooker in confessional.

"My family's the same way," he said. "I like to think there's always a positive side to everything, though."

"Not always."

"Yes, always," he countered. "Even on the worst days, you get something out of it. Like today. You got something out of today."

"What?"

"I don't know. A criminal record?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Funny."

"It happens to the best of us," he said playfully. "I'm just saying, sometimes good things come from bad things. I'm stuck in an elevator, but I've got a beautiful girl here with me, so I'm focusing on the girl and not the fact that I'm crammed in a tiny box. Because rest assured, if you weren't here, I would've been climbing through the trap door in the ceiling by now."

Genna's eyes darted up to the ceiling. Trap door? "Can we do that?"

"With the day you're having? No."

She peered at him across the elevator, seeing the amusement in his expression. He was enjoying teasing her. "Okay, your turn, then. Tell me about Matty."

"Not much to me." He shrugged. "I recently graduated college with a degree in communications."

"And what does one do with a communications degree?"

"Communicate? I don't know." He laughed to himself, a bitter edge to the sound. "Doesn't really matter. I minored in business analytics, though. I moved back home last month to help out my family, so that part's been a little more helpful on the job front."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. It's just temporary, though. My mom's been sick for a while. I didn't want to miss… well, you know. I wanted to be around for her."

"I get it," she said quietly. That was something Genna understood well. She felt the sting of the memory of her own mother constricting her chest. "So you're close to your family?"

"I'm Italian," he said. "That's kind of the name of the game."

She gazed at him, a small smile creeping up on her lips. A handsome Italian boy who understood family loyalty? This guy was the genetics jackpot. Her father was going to
love
him.

An hour passed trapped in the stifling elevator before they finally heard any attempts to reach them. By then, they were both laying on the floor, diagonally across the elevator, her flat on her back while he lay beside her, his elbow propped up as he gazed at her. It was uncomfortable, but comforting. Unnerving, but not at all alarming. She could feel his eyes on her, surveying her intently, seeing right through her just as he had done the first time their eyes connected. She babbled on and on, distracting herself, talking about everything but nothing at all.

It took a few more minutes for their help to find a way in. At that point, Genna was drenched with sweat, her clothes rolled up to indecent levels, dangerously close to saying to hell with it and just stripping right then, right there, and prancing around in her underwear.

Matty climbed to his feet once the fire department unbolted the trap door in the ceiling, but she just lay there, staring up at the lights above her. The air was hazy, each breath burning her lungs. She would've killed for some water…
maybe literally
.

"Come on," Matty said, extending his hand to her when a fireman started feeding a ladder in through from above. She took his hand, feeling his warm skin against hers as he helped her to her feet. She tried to quickly pull herself together, tugging at her clothes and fixing her hair before grabbing her shoes. Matty grabbed his sweater, using it to wipe the sweat dripping from his brow. His face gleamed under the lights.

How the hell did he make sweating so sexy
?

They had them climb into the elevator shaft and across a ladder onto another elevator. They dropped down into that one, which took them straight down to the first floor. Genna breathed a heavy sigh of relief when those doors opened, a swell of fresh air reaching her. She stepped out, avoiding the curious gathering crowd of spectators as she hit up the nearest water fountain, before bolting straight for the front door. No sooner she stepped outside to the dreary afternoon, Matty joined her.

"So, how about that drink? What do you say?"

She looked down at herself, grimacing. If she thought she was having a bad hair day that morning, she couldn't even imagine what it looked like
now
. She wanted to go home, strip out of her mucky clothes, and fall straight into her comfy bed, never to resurface again. But there was another part of her, captivated and curious about this guy, that couldn't bear the thought of walking away from him already. If she did, chances were she'd never see him again.

He stared at her, awaiting her answer.

Fuck it.
"Let's go."

Smirking, he pulled a set of keys from his pocket as he started walking away. After slipping on her shoes, Genna followed him, ignoring the burning pain as they rubbed against her blisters. He turned the corner, heading to a nearby parking lot as he pressed a button on his keys. Across the lot, lights flashed on a sleek blood red Lotus Evora seconds before he pressed another button and it roared straight to life. Her footsteps faltered, eyes darting to him with shock. "
That's
yours? The Lotus?"

"Why, you gonna steal it?"

Genna approached the foreign sports car, running her hand along the glossy paint, hearing the engine as it practically purred. She'd never seen one in person. They were rare, barely street legal. He opened the passenger door for her and she paused there, trying to contain her grin. "I guess you'll see, won't you?"

The leather stuck to the back of her sweaty thighs when she slid into the seat. Laughing, Matty shut the door and climbed in the driver's side. "Yeah, I guess I will."

Air conditioning blasted her in the face, cooling her instantly and soothing the burn of her cheeks. Thumping bass of hip-hop spilled from the speakers, vibrating her seat and sending goose bumps dancing across her skin when Matty threw the car in gear. They sped away from the criminal court building, effortlessly weaving through the afternoon Manhattan traffic, every turn smooth and agile, as they seemed to just glide along the street. Genna wanted to talk to him, wanted to ask him questions, wanted to know more, but she couldn't get any words to form. For the first time in her life, she felt utterly small. Not in the belittling way… no, she felt anything but depreciated. She was valued, and vulnerable, but oh so fragile, like she'd left her armor behind, completely powerless compared to the commanding creature beside her.

If she were a delicate ice sculpture, this stunning man was a strong marble statue.

He drove northwest through Soho, one of the few neighborhoods Genna was entirely unfamiliar with. Her family ran the other side of the city so she tended to stay in those areas whenever she came to Manhattan, rarely crossing the invisible boundaries, never venturing too far west. Before she could dwell on that, he slowed the car near a brick building on the corner of a block, making a sharp turn into an underground parking garage, engine raring as Matty pulled into the first spot labeled
'reserved'
.

Carefully, Genna climbed out, eyeing him peculiarly as he locked up the car. She ran her hand along the smooth red paint again. "I can't believe you drive a freaking Lotus Evora."

"I'm surprised you've heard of it."

"I'm surprised you
own
one," she said. "There are only a few hundred in America, if even that. They're rare."

"I've never personally seen another."

Genna glanced at him. "I never thought I'd see
one
. That was… wow." She ran her hand along the sleek paint again. Cars were her first love, arguably her
only
true love. Guys flaked on her left and right, but she'd never had a car disappoint her before. "That was totally better than sex."

Matty laughed, stepping toward her, his gaze intense as he leaned close. "Something tells me you've been having sex with the wrong people, then."

Before she could respond, Matty motioned for her to follow him as he turned and strolled out of the parking garage. She stayed in step with him, looking around when they approached the building. The grimy brick was crumbling, the sign on the front barely legible.
The Place
.