“No, you’re moving food around. That’s different.”
Luca’s eyes meet mine across the table. “Maybe she’s not hungry.”
“Or maybe I’m just tired.”
“You said that earlier. Maybe you should go to bed early tonight.”
The suggestion sounds innocent. It’s not. I can tell by the way he’s looking at me.
“Maybe I will.”
After dinner, I help the twins with their bath. Read them two stories each. Tuck them in with nightlights on and doors open exactly four inches. By the time I finish, it’s barely nine o’clock.
I go to my room. Change into sleep shorts and a tank top. Try to read the same book from this morning. Still can’t focus.
All I can think about is water running down his chest. The way his hand brushed my shoulder. The way he looked at me like he knew exactly what I was thinking.
I’m warm despite the air conditioning. Restless. My skin feels too tight.
This is ridiculous. I’m a grown woman. I can ignore physical attraction. I’ve been doing it for weeks.
Except I haven’t been doing it for weeks. I’ve been having angry sex with him in studies, against walls, and on desks. And lately it’s been less angry and more…something else.
I throw off the covers and pace my room.
This is his fault. Walking around shirtless. Touching me casually. Looking at me like he’s remembering what I look like naked.
Which he’s seen. Multiple times. So, of course he’s remembering.
I’m remembering too. That’s the problem.
I remember his hands. His mouth. The way he makes me come apart, even when I don’t want to. The way he feels inside me. The sounds he makes when he loses control.
I press my hands to my face.
I need to go to sleep and stop wanting something I shouldn’t want from a man I’m supposed to hate.
Except I don’t hate him anymore. That’s the real problem.
I stand at my door for a full minute before I open it.
The hallway is dark except for the nightlights from the twins’ rooms. Their doors are open four inches exactly. Both of them are asleep.
Luca’s door is at the end of the hall. Closed. Light shows underneath.
He’s awake.
I walk down the hallway before I can talk myself out of it. Stand outside his door with my hand raised to knock.
This is stupid. I should go back to my room. Should ignore this heat building under my skin. Should maintain whatever boundaries still exist between us.
I knock before I can change my mind.
“Come in.”
He’s in bed. Shirtless, reading glasses on, laptop open in front of him. He looks up when I enter, and something flickers in his expression. “Anna.”
I close the door behind me. Lean against it. “You did that on purpose.”
