Accidentally Yours Chapter 9

**Lola**

She woke up to the sound of breathing.

Not hers. Deeper. Slower. Infuriatingly steady.

Then came the awareness—a very firm, very warm body under her, the thud of a heartbeat against her cheek, and a faint slick sensation across her lips.

What the—

She blinked herself awake and sat up fast.

“Oh my God,” she croaked, wiping at her mouth. “Did I—ugh—did I drool on you?”

Enzo’s voice was infuriatingly amused. “Only a little.”

“You should be honored. That’s how I mark my favorites.”

He arched a brow, completely unbothered, one arm folded behind his head like this was normal. “Guess I’m yours now.”

She narrowed her eyes and made a show of peeling herself off him, trying not to notice how her thigh dragged across the line of his abs. “Don’t get cocky. I could also have been having a dream about waffles.”

“Pretty sure I felt you moan my name into the small puddle on my chest. Which, oddly enough, was right where your mouth happened to be.”

“Pretty sure you’re making that up.”

He grinned, slow and stupidly hot, then reached up and tucked a piece of her chaotic hair behind her ear. “I don’t mind waking up like this, you know.”

***I’m melting, I’m meelllttiiing, that’s what that witch was really talking about, this moment right here. Ok, keep it together. Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out. You’re good. Totally good. *deep internal sigh* I can only imagine what my hair looks like.***

Lola looked at him—really looked at him.

His hair in its natural state, a little wild and full. All broad chested and glistening under all the slobber. The ex’s sweatpants were doing absolutely nothing to contain the situation beneath the waistband, and he was looking at her like she was the only thing worth seeing.

***Oh no.***

She meant to roll off. She really did, but somehow, her knees were suddenly bracketing his hips, her hands on either side of his head, and she was leaning in like gravity had a vendetta.

***This is the most beautiful man I’ve ever had my hands on, not that it’s a lot but damn.***

Enzo’s hands were in her hair, hers were holding either side of his face, and they were both breathing like they'd run a marathon. She straddled his lap, chest pressed to his, the taste of citrus and tequila still hot on her tongue.

She didn’t even remember climbing on top of him—just that his mouth tasted dangerous, and she liked it.

Then—

BANG. BANG. BANG.

A fist slammed against the apartment door.

Lola froze mid-kiss. “Did you order food?”

Enzo blinked, dazed. “Nope.”

CRACK.

The door kicked open, crashing into the wall.

“WHAT THE—” she screeched, scrambling off Enzo and tumbling backward off the bed with a thud.

Four men burst into the apartment—tall, lethal-looking, dressed like the mob had just been given a tactical gear budget. And they were angry.

“DOWN! HANDS UP!” one barked, weapon drawn.

Lola flailed her arms. “HOLY SHIT—ENZO?!”

They ignored her. Every pair of eyes locked on Enzo, who was now sitting on the bed, hoodie barley over his head, lips swollen, joggers riding criminally low.

“Are you okay, boss?” one growled.

“He’s got bruises!” another pointed out, eyeing Enzo’s wrists.

“I tied him up!” Lola yelled without thinking. “But not in a murder way!”

One of them lunged toward her.

She scrambled to her feet, hands in the air. “You better BACK UP unless you want to get stabbed with a hair stick and a bottle of lube I left on the counter!”

“Lola,” Enzo’s voice cut through the chaos like a blade. Calm. Sharp. Dangerous. She turned to him.

He stood now—barefoot, towering, and suddenly terrifying in a way that made the air leave the room.

Then he looked at the men and said, “She didn’t kidnap me. We’re engaged.”

***What in the actual fuck.*** 

**Enzo**

Silence.

Still holding.

***Why did I say that?***

Enzo’s crew stared like he’d grown horns. Lola looked like she might throw up, or stab him, or both. He put his hand at her waist, steady pressure, calm weight. Anchor and warning.

“She didn’t kidnap me,” he repeated, voice cool and final. “She’s not a threat.”

One of the crew—Luca—eyed her warily. “You sure? She was on top of you. Shirtless. Growling.”

“She sleep-mounts,” Enzo said smoothly giving a little half smirk.

“I—EXCUSE me?” Lola hissed.

“Relax,” he murmured against her temple. 

“For what?!” she whisper-yelled. “So your goons don’t drag me to a desert and bury me under a cactus?!”

He didn’t answer. Out loud, anyway.

To the crew: “Guns down. Now.”

***If I didn’t love these men like brothers, I would have already stomped their faces in.*** 

They obeyed. Slowly. Still tense. Still watching her like she might detonate.

Smart of them. She kind of might.

Enzo kept his tone casual. “You’re going to do two things for me. First, call off the perimeter. I don’t need eyes on the block anymore.”

“And second?” Matteo asked, still eyeing the ruined front door.

Enzo glanced at Lola, whose hair was sticking up in every direction and whose bare legs were trembling from a mix of rage and embarrassment.

“Second,” he said, “you’re going to apologize to my fiancée for kicking down her door and pointing guns at her.”

All four men stiffened.

Lola blinked and whispered, “You’re doubling down? You’re doubling down?!”

He nodded once. “Better they think you’re mine than expendable.”

“But I am expendable!”

***If she only knew.***

“Not to me.”

She froze. The crew didn’t move.

Enzo’s tone dropped into something colder. “Apologize, immediately.”

Grudgingly, muttered, and in varying degrees of sincerity, the men offered stiff apologies.

Enzo tilted his head toward the door. “Now get out. I’ll debrief you later. Get the car running.”

They hesitated.

“Out,” he said again. Sharper. They obeyed.

The second the door closed behind them, Enzo let go of Lola’s waist. She spun on him so fast, he was mildly impressed she didn’t sprain something.

“What the hell was that?!” she snapped. “Engaged?! FIANCÉ?!”

“You’re welcome,” he said, because he was an idiot.

***I really am doubling down. No turning back now, not that I really want to. This is the most fun I’ve had in my entire life. She’s like a breath of freedom filling mu lungs that have felt so constricted for so long.***

Lola stared at him like she was trying to solve a crime. “Do you even know what I was about to say before they came in?!”

“‘Please take me now, shirtless Don of mine?’”

“I WAS GOING TO ASK IF YOU HAD STDs!”

Enzo blinked. “Honestly, that’s fair.”

***Smart girl. Her honesty is so refreshing. No games on the back burner just her and que her existential spiral.***

She made a strangled sound and started pacing.

“Okay. Okay. So. Let me just make sure I have this straight. I accidentally kidnap a man at Burning Man, nurse him back to health against my better judgment, and in return I get a broken door, three guns in my face, and a fake engagement.” She paused. “Why does this feel like the beginning of a romcom and a court case at the same time?”

Enzo sat down on the edge of her bed, calm as ever. “Because you’re dramatic. And maybe cursed or blessed, however you want to look at it.”

“You’re not taking this seriously!”

“I’m taking it very seriously.” He gestured to her. “You’re the only person who’s seen me as someone other than who I’m supposed to be and didn’t run. You stayed. You drooled. You claimed me in your sleep.”

“I DID NOT—”

“And now you’re stuck with me until I fix this mess. Congratulations. You’re mine.”

***Lie number one, I’m not fixing anything. This girl isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.***

Lola spiraled fast. “This is never going to work,” she said, pacing in frantic little loops like her boots had rockets under them. “I don’t even look like someone who belongs in your world. I look like someone who flips off grandmas and got suspended from school for inappropriate behavior.”

“You probably did,” he said calmly.

“I did! Multiple times until I just didn’t go back!”

He smiled. Lola didn’t.

“I’m short. I’ve got tattoos in unmentionable places. My hair looks like I tried to fight the Kool-Aid man and lost. I wear boots with duct tape on them, and I once got kicked out of a wedding for grinding on the groom’s dad during the Electric Slide.”

“That’s impressive, honestly.”

***Hopefully I never run into this man because I might have to kill him.***

She shot him a look like she might combust.

“I don’t fit. I’m not elegant. I’m not classy. I’m not whatever-the-hell kind of woman people expect to see on your arm.”

***You’re nothing like any of them and that’s why I’m not letting go.***

Then—almost desperately, eyes wide—

“And we haven’t even had sex yet!” she whisper-hissed, jabbing an accusing finger at him. “What kind of deranged universe is this?!”

Enzo stepped in close.

Didn’t say a word.

He cupped her jaw, leaned in—and kissed her.

Soft.

Sure.

Grounding.

When she didn’t flinch or pull away, he moved one hand down to grip her ass, scooping her up like she weighed nothing. Her legs wrapped around him instinctively.

Then he kissed her again. This time deep, open-mouthed, possessive. The kind of kiss that hit backspace on every doubt she had.

By the time he set her down, her hands were still fisted in the too-tight shirt he wore, and her expression had softened just enough to breathe again.

***Yeah little cherry bomb, you’re not going anywhere when you do things like that.*** 

“I forgot what I was panicking about,” she mumbled.

“Good.” His lips twitched. “We can circle back to the sex thing later.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Enzo.”

“What?” He shrugged. “Just trying to stick to your itinerary.”

She smacked his chest, but there wasn’t much heat behind it. Enzo tilted his head slightly—and spotted something just behind her, on the floor by the bedpost where he’d been tied up.

It was small.

Plastic.

Pink and heart-shaped.

He bent, scooped it up, and held it between two fingers. The ring was cheap, flashy, and clearly the kind that could blink if it wanted to. One of those things you’d win from a rigged claw machine or buy from a light-up vendor during a blackout-fueled bender in the desert.

He didn’t remember it from Burning Man—but honestly? That just made it more likely that’s where it came from. Without asking, he took her hand and slid it on.

“…Seriously?” she asked, staring at it.

“Dead.”

“It’s—” She wiggled her finger. “This is definitely designed to blink.”

“It’s being respectful. Unlike you at that wedding I’m sure.”

That earned him a snort.

Then he lowered his voice, thumb brushing the back of her hand.

“We’ll figure this out, Lola. But for now? We keep this up a little while. Until things cool down.”

She didn’t reply right away.

She just stared at the ring—silent, overwhelmed, maybe a little terrified.

Then he lowered his voice, thumb brushing the back of her hand.

“We’re in this together now. If we can keep most of my people from finding out, we might actually be able to end the charade without too much damage.”

She exhaled like she’d been holding her breath for an hour.

“So we just lie to everyone and fake a relationship until it’s convenient to break up?”

“Exactly.”

“Cool. Love that for me.”

BANG-BANG-BANG.

The knock turned into a door slam.

Enter Gino.

Muffin bag in one hand. Phone in the other. Joy vibrating off him like a golden retriever hopped up on espresso.

***Fuck. I should have known they’d bring Gino with them. This probably got more complicated.***

“HOLY SHIT! The guys just told me the news and I—okay, wow, I did not see that coming, but clearly something life-altering happened at Burning Man because this is epic.”

Enzo tensed. “Gino—”

***I don’t know if I want to kill him for drugging me or kiss him for the same reason.*** 

“So listen,” Gino rushed on, “I got super hyped and called your mom.”

Lola’s face went blank.

“I figured you already told her, right? And then she screamed. And then your sister was on the phone too, which was great timing honestly, because now everyone knows—”

“Gino.” ***Yeah, I’m going to kill him. Can’t let her go even if I wanted to now.***

“—and you should’ve heard the squealing, bro. Then your sister was like, ‘wait, are we sure she’s not a hooker?’ but in a fun way, and now she’s texting Aunt Lina and Uncle Dario and maybe Cousin Aldo—”

“Gino.”

“Yeah?”

“Leave the muffins. Get out.”