I use the chance to low-key check him out while he’s not looking. His arms are resting on the steering wheel, and they’reway more built than any other guy at school. Also, he has hair on them, which makes him seem older. Manlier.
My brain decides to be a traitor and immediately pictures those arms wrapped around me.
Unhelpful. Super unhelpful. Focus, Em, for real this time.
He turns suddenly and catches me full-onstaring. Drooling, probably. “Earth to Emma. Food?”
“Oh! Uh, I’ll just have whatever you’re getting. I’m not picky.”
He raises an eyebrow at me, holding eye contact like heknows. Like, he totally just caught me imagining him shirtless or something. Rude. He turns back to the speaker and places the order in that voice—ugh, that voice—that’s all deep and confident and just...ugh.
Get it together, girl. You're acting like a cat in heat. Next thing you know, you’ll be purring.
He finishes ordering, rolls up the window, and suddenly we’re just sitting in silence. It’s awkward. My nerves are doing the cha-cha.
“So… why were you at school so late?” I ask, trying to sound chill but definitely not succeeding.
“Library,” he says flatly. No eye contact.
I blink at him, curious. Luca’s weirdly private about his life. But then something shifts in his face. He glances over at me, and there's this little flash of guilt in his eyes.
“I like being there,” he adds, quieter.
“Yeah. I get that.” I nod. “It’s not like my house is awful or anything, it’s just… kind of sad sometimes. And I can’t exactly tell my sister to stop crying all the time. Not her fault, obviously. It’s that son of a—”Em. Shut up. Now.“Oops. Sorry,” I say, giving my best innocent face.
“Don’t apologize. My brother can be a jerk when he wants to.”
“Exactly!”I blurt out, feeling the dam break. “Why is he like that with her?! If he saw how she cries at night, or how she skips meals because she’s too sad to eat, maybe he wouldn’t be such a cold, heartless robot.”
Luca’s watching me now, quiet. Really listening. “Is that why you asked me out?” he says, voice a little lower. “To talk about my brother and your sister?”
Oof. The disappointment in his tone? Like a slap in the face. “What? No! I mean—sorry if it felt like that. It’s not.”
“Then what is it?”
“What is what?”
“Why am I here, Emma?”
Right then, the Sonic employee shows up with our tray and a greasy brown paper bag that already has my stomach growling. Thank God for distractions.
Luca thanks her in the most casual, hot way possible and hands me the bag. Then he starts the car.
“We can eat here, y’know,” I say, just in case he’s never been to Sonic before and doesn’t know how this works.
“I know,” he replies, likeduh. “I just don’t wanna eat here.”
And with that, he pulls out of the parking spot like a man on a mission. He parks under this huge tree in a dark corner of the lot, where the streetlight can’t even reach us.
Not me swallowing nervously like I’m in a teen horror movie.Chill, Emma.I hand him his burger and fries, open mine, and take the biggest bite humanly possible. Not ladylike. Not even a little.
“You still didn’t answer,” he says, voice soft.
“What? The thing from before?”
He gives me a look.
“Okay, fine! Why does there have to be a reason? We were both at school, I was hungry, you have a car—boom, Sonic date.”
