Luca’s room is surprisingly tidy. There’s a desk in the corner with a laptop and a stack of textbooks piled next to it. A framed signed Liverpool jersey hangs above it. He has a king-size bed in the middle of the room, and a wooden chest sitting at the foot of it. On the opposite wall is a big-screen television.
The door closes behind me with a deafening snick, and I’m immediately overwhelmed by a scent that is sodistinctly Luca that I wonder how I never picked up on it before. He brushes past me on his way to his desk, but I can’t seem to draw my eyes away from his bed.
“Her name was Camilla.” His voice is thick with emotion.
I swallow around the lump in my throat before dragging my gaze to the photo frame he’s holding out. My feet propel me forward, and our fingers touch as I reach out to take it from him. My breath hitches when our eyes meet, but I quickly glance down at the photo in my hands.
A young Luca is wrapped in her arms, and they both have their heads thrown back in laughter. I smile as I take in the small details like the way their eyes crinkle in the same way, and the slight imperfection of their noses. They share the same brown hair and hazel eyes. “You look like her,” I muse. “She’s beautiful.”
“You think I’m beautiful?” he quips, and my cheeks heat at his playful smirk. “I’m kidding,” he says as he takes the frame and places it back on his desk. “Thank you. She was.”
Silence settles over the room, and I tug on the hem of the oversized T-shirt I sleep in, trying to cover my thick thighs. All of a sudden, I’m hyper-aware that I’m half-naked in his bedroom.
“I should go,” I murmur as I turn towards the door.
“Or you could stay, hang out for a bit.”
I pause with my hand on the handle and glance over my shoulder. “You want to hang out with me?” I can’t keep the scepticism out of my voice.
He shrugs. “Why not?”
“Because you’reyou,” I wave a hand between the twoof us. Him, the six-foot-two Adonis football star who could get any woman he wanted, and me, the short, curvy nerd. This is why I never wanted to meet up with him outside of Euphoria. “And I’m… me.”
Luca frowns. “Why do you say it like that? I know we haven’t really spoken in the last four years”—If only he knew—“and I feel bad about that, but I want to make up for it. You’re easy to talk to, and I’m still too amped to go to sleep. What do you say? Want to keep me company?”
I’m playing with fire.
I should leave.
I need to stay away from him.
He’ll be gone in two weeks, and I can move on, forget about him.
All I need to do is open the door and leave.
Only… I can’t.
My hand drops from the handle, and I turn and lean back against the door. I cross my arms over my chest, but the move only makes my T-shirt rise to the top of my thighs, so I quickly drop them back to my side. “What do you have in mind?”
My mouth goes dry when Luca unbuttons his shirt and I catch a glimpse of his tan skin. I can’t help but remember what it’s like to run my tongue over those rippling muscles. Before he can catch me staring and kick me out for being a creep, I avert my eyes and study the assortment of soccer memorabilia lining the shelves beneath his window.
There’s a signed soccer ball sitting on a stand, and some framed photos of Luca at various ages with who I assume are some of his favourite players. I move closer fora better look, but without really knowing anything about the sport, I have no idea who they are.
My lips turn up into an amused smile at the creepy bobble-head figurines. I pick one up and turn it over in my hand, trying to ignore the sound of his zipper releasing behind me. “You really love soccer, huh?” I choke out.
“Football,” he corrects me with a chuckle.
I screw my nose up. “We live in Australia. Football here is rugby league or Aussie rules.” Something soft hits the back of my head and a stuffed soccer ball lands at my feet. Forgetting that Luca is in the middle of getting changed, I spin around with a look of outrage. “Did you seriously just throw that at me?”
The sexy smirk on his face has my heart stuttering, but the sight of him in nothing but a pair of boxers causes my brain to short circuit and my pussy to clench and tingle in the most delicious way. Fuck, his body is incredible. All I can think about right now is what it feels like when it’s worshipping my body.
“Stop talking blasphemy in my presence and I won’t feel the need to resort to violence,” he says with a wink as he pulls on a pair of grey sweatpants.
I manage an unintelligible noise in response, and I hate the way my cheeks flush. I’ve had this man on his knees crawling for me, yet the act of having a simple conversation with him turns me into a bumbling idiot. This is another reason why I was reluctant to meet up with him outside of Euphoria.
Luca crosses the room and takes the bobble-head from my hands. He stares down at it with a sad smile. “This was the last thing Mum bought me before she died.”
“She’d be proud of you.”
