Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Maybe that was why talking about the future rattled me when it used to be so clear. I thought I’d had life figured out. Now, I wasn’t so sure. Seeing Hannah today made me realize there might be a danger in getting what I wanted.
Right now, I wanted to cling to this moment. Luca had managed to turn my world upside down in a matter of months. I didn’t want to be anywhere else or with anyone else. I wanted to study him in the candlelight, admiring his handsome features as I shamelessly pressed my calf against his. I needed to touch him. I needed to be close. I needed to hear his voice and drink in the sunshine that poured out of him in waves. Like it was my right to.
Sure, I still had my goals, but my focus was…blurry. Or maybe it had just shifted. ’Cause all I could see now was him.
Luca kicked my shin playfully. “Okay, okay, I’ll quit talking about hockey. Stay with me, Cal.”
“I’m here and I’ve been listening. You have a Zoom interview with the Sharks for a job you think you aren’t qualified for and something about an econ test on Monday.”
He stole another french fry. “Impressive.”
“What makes you think you aren’t qualified? You aren’t interviewing for a coaching gig for the NHL, are you?”
“No, it’s a lowly finance position with the head office.” Luca rolled his eyes, but not before I caught the note of interest.
“You want it.”
He inhaled, then released his breath slowly. “I don’t know. In the plus column, I’d be working for the NHL. In the negative…as an accounting drone. And I’m not sure how I’d feel about moving to San Jose, but there’s no harm in interviewing.”
Whoa. Moving? He just got here.
“Definitely,” I agreed, pushing any negative thoughts aside and maturely adding, “Oh yeah, and right after the job thing, you mentioned something about sucking my dick.”
“I don’t think I said that.” He barked a laugh, scanning the nearby tables before whispering. “You know, that sounds kinda gay.”
I held his gaze intently and smiled. “If being kinda gay means I get to be with you, I’m all for it.”
Luca widened his eyes. “Geez, that’s almost romantic.”
I chuckled on cue. Romance wasn’t our thing. If anything, we went out of our way not to be romantic. Sure, we flirted with the concept here and there, like the heart he drew on that mug and the intimate rub of his ankle on my calf—but we were friends first. That friend card made it possible to hang out whenever and wherever we wanted. Even a fancy dinner where we were surrounded by couples on dates or business associates could be explained away. It would also make it possible to say good-bye when the time came…with no recriminations or expectations.
But my laughter faded and my decidedly unromantic reply fell away. I didn’t feel like playing a part. I needed to be real and transparent. I needed him to know me completely. If only for now.
I dropped my napkin and captured his wrist, sending a knife clanging against a plate. It was loud enough that a patron or two turned to the commotion. If they looked our way, they’d know we were lovers. And I really didn’t give a fuck.
“I’m serious, Luca. I want you. That’s all I want.”
His answering smile threatened to split his face in half. Any lingering angst vanished to the point I couldn’t remember what I’d been anxious about. There was no drama with Hannah. She was my past, and that was over a long time ago.
Luca was the only one I could see. The only one I wanted. And this moment was all that mattered. Right here, right now.
7
Luca
“You have me. You lucky bastard.”
Cal’s smile grew and morphed into laughter. The sweet sound soothed away the dull ache of rehashing melancholy shit that couldn’t be undone. “Lucky, eh?”
“Oh, yeah. And you’re about to get a hell of a lot luckier.”
Those were the last words I remember saying out loud. I paid our bill, waving off Cal’s attempts to chip in, before leading him to my car. We didn’t speak on the way to his place. Or maybe we did and I blocked it out. I was buzzing everywhere…inside and out. My hands trembled and my pulse raced. I felt like a live wire that had just been tripped.
Call it anticipatory-sex jitters. We both knew we’d be naked within fifteen seconds of closing his door, so that might be accurate. But this was more than scratching our usual itch. This felt significant…yet not something I could easily define. Maybe we needed to punctuate the unspoken sentiment of belonging to each other. This was more than want or need or a journey of discovery. I could feel it in my bones.