His lips twitch—almost a smile—but his eyes stay steady on me. “Where are you living?” he asks.
“Doral. Apartment complex.”
He frowns, forehead creasing, mouth tightening. “After what Great Ideas charges, I expected Miami Beach.”
“I can’t afford Miami Beach.” I check on Amanda—still asleep, her head tilted against the cushion, breath even—then return.
“Why not?”
“It’s a long story.”
“We’ve got at least forty minutes.” He leans back against the helm, arms crossed, watching me like he’s not letting me off the hook. “Try me.”
I sigh, twisting a strand of hair around my finger before letting it drop. “My mom has a chronic heart condition. Insurance doesn’t cover her meds. I left New York to take this job because it pays better. I needed to save.”
He stares at me, stunned, lips parting but no sound coming out. His jaw softens. “I’m sorry, Em. I didn’t know.”
“It’s fine.”
We sit in silence, the ocean rocking us gently, sails snapping above. His gaze drifts to the water, shoulders curving slightly forward, thoughtful.
“You like Miami?” he asks.
“Yeah. It’s the opposite of New York.”
“That’s why I moved here.” His eyes flicker back to mine, sharp again.
“I figured you’d stay in New York. It fits you.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug, smiling faintly. “You always felt more… academic. Philosophical. Miami isn’t exactly filled with people who want to debate Plato.”
He snorts, lips quirking. “Don’t forget—men always have opinions.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “True. Still… I’m glad you like it here.”
“I hope you do too.” His voice drops, quieter. “It’s a unique city.” A pause, heavy. “You came alone?”
Oh. Here we go.
“Yeah. Couldn’t convince Lauren to move with me. I just don’t feel comfortable leaving her alone.”
His gaze sharpens, jaw tight. “You always saw her as your responsibility,” he mutters. “It’s time she lived her life.”
“Maybe…”
His tone shifts, rougher. “Eyre was very… friendly with you.”
I blink, arms crossing instinctively. “He’s just like that.”
“Did you two ever…?” His brows pull together, chest rising with the words.
Seriously? “No, Luca. I don’t sleep with every man who’s kind to me.”
His hands flex on the wheel, eyes narrowing. “That’s not what I meant?—”
“Yes, it is. You’re still jealous. Still possessive. And you hate me.”
