Luca leads me to the guest room.“I’ll be right next door if you need anything,” he says, pointing at his room.
“Is that your childhood bedroom?”I ask, pausing in the hallway, wanting to catch a glimpse inside.
“It is, but there really isn’t anything of mine in there anymore,” he says.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll show you,” he says and leads me into his bedroom.It feels cold, although the temperature is ambient.The walls are bare and painted a crème that makes the room feel even more bland.
There aren’t any pictures on the dresser in the far corner of the room.The nightstand houses a digital clock.The room looks like someone forgot to decorate it.
“This was your bedroom?”I ask.There’s no sign of Luca, except for his duffel bag seated on the mattress.No evidence that he’s ever played hockey.No trophies or ribbons.No posters.Nothing that screams this was ever a teenage boy’s room.
“Like I said, there’s not anything of mine in here anymore.”
It’s sad, and my heart breaks as I reach for his hand.It’s almost like they had him erased.
Meanwhile, my bedroom at home still has the framed prints autographed by one of my favorite authors.I have a jewelry rack hanging on my wall beside the door with my necklaces, and my dresser has my rings and earrings safely secured and waiting for me when I come home to visit.There are posters hanging on my walls, featuring my favorite music artists and even a signed movie poster from when I went to the local comic book convention last summer.
There’s absolutely no trace of Luca in his childhood bedroom, and honestly, it makes me sad.
“Did you take everything with you when you moved out?”I ask.I’m trying to make sense of the situation.He lives in an apartment; I’m in the dorms.He has a lot more space, his own bedroom, while I’m forced to share my space with Quinn.
“Hardly.Mom saved a couple of boxes of my stuff and had it put into the attic.”
I wave my hand at the bare room.“Was this Dante’s idea?”I ask, assuming his father is to blame.Tonight, I’ve heard the way he speaks about him,to him, and it’s obvious they don’t get along.I’m just not sure why.
He laughs under his breath.It’s a dark laugh, filled with anger and pain.“You could say that.”
“What do you mean?”
“He wanted me erased.”
“Did something happen between you and him or…” my words trail off.Perhaps he never wanted a child at all.
He glances away, unwilling to meet my stare.“That’s a story for never,” Luca says.He exhales a breath after a beat and finally turns toward me.“Let’s get you ready for bed, in your room.Unless you want to sleep with me?”
My breath catches in my throat.
I reach for his hand, intertwining our fingers together, pulling him closer to me.
There’s a sadness, a coldness enveloped around him, and I want to ease it all away.
He’s clearly hurting, and I don’t want him to be in pain.
“Can I sleep in here with you?”I ask, my voice soft, tentative.I’m almost afraid his offer was a joke, and he’s going to tell me to go back into my room tonight for bed.
Luca leans in, pressing his forehead against mine.The heat of his breath, his touch, the feel of his energy surrounding me is enough to make me warm and tingly.
He untangles our hands, only so that he can touch my face.Cupping my cheek, he stares into my eyes, waiting to kiss me.
What is he waiting for?
“I think I can make room for you in my bed,” Luca says with a wry smile and pulls me closer against him.
I can feel the rise and fall of his chest as he’s pressed tight.The backs of his fingers graze my cheek, staring at me as though he’s memorizing every detail.
“Are you going to kiss me or just stare?”I grin, smiling up at him cheekily.
