Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
"I should've known better, but by the time I found her..." His voice broke, and he blinked rapidly, fighting back tears. "I tried everything, but..." He drew in a shaky breath, his knuckles white around the spoon. "The doctors said it was cut with something else. And I couldn't... I couldn't save her."
Without thinking, I reached across the counter, laying my hand over his. His fingers were cold despite his usual warmth.
"After I lost her, I was empty. Apart from anger, that is. Did some stupid things." He turned his hand over, gripping mine like an anchor. "Giuliano found me when I was at my lowest. Gave me purpose. A chance to make sure it didn't happen to anyone else."
"I'm so sorry," I whispered, understanding now why he'd been so quick to help me escape.
He met my eyes, and for the first time, I saw him without any masks. "Sometimes, I still see her everywhere. In little things, you know? Like..." He gestured vaguely at our cereal. "She used to eat this stuff at midnight, too."
I stood up, moving around the counter. When I wrapped my arms around him, he stiffened for a moment before melting into the embrace. We stayed like that for a while, his breath warm against my hair, sharing a grief that needed no words.
Neither of us seemed willing to break away first. His hand had drifted to my lower back, steady and warm. When we finally pulled apart, the air felt different—charged with something that made my pulse quicken. His eyes had darkened, all traces of their usual mischief gone.
His phone buzzed, making us both jump.
"Good news; everyone's safe," he said after checking it, his voice rougher than before.
I felt myself swaying slightly, exhaustion finally catching up to me.
"Bed's all yours," he said, catching my arm to steady me. "I'll crash on the couch."
"Are you sure? I don't want to—"
"Trust me, that couch and I go way back," he said with a grin. "Many quality naps have happened there."
His hand stayed on my back as he guided me to his bedroom, fingers splaying slightly against my spine. The warmth of his touch through the thin silk of my pajamas made it hard to focus on walking straight.
He moved around the room quickly, shoving a few things into drawers before turning to the bed. I couldn't help but smile, watching him fuss with the dark blue comforter, attempting to make it presentable. When he reached across the bed, his shirt rode up, and I found myself distracted by the flash of bare skin beneath.
"You should get some sleep," he said, turning back to me. His voice had gone low and rough, the usual playfulness replaced with something that made my pulse race. We stood there for a moment, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. His fingers brushed against my arm, barely there but enough to make my breath catch. His eyes dropped to my lips, and I found myself leaning in slightly, drawn to him without meaning to be.
But then his phone buzzed. He stepped back, running a hand through his hair, and I had to stop myself from reaching for him.
"Sweet dreams." He turned to leave.
"Luca?" His name slipped out before I could stop it. Part of me wanted to ask him to stay; the thought of being alone after everything that had happened today, after sharing so much... But what would I even say? That I was scared? That I didn't want to be alone? That I wanted...
He paused at the door, turning back slightly. His hand lingered on the doorframe, and I could see the tension in his shoulders, like he was fighting the same battle I was. He took half a step toward me before catching himself.
"Try to get some rest," he said finally. Then he was gone.
I sank into his bed, surrounded by his scent. Despite my exhaustion, my mind wandered to him in the next room, imagining him pulling off that t-shirt before settling on the couch. The thought of his bare skin, the way his muscles had moved when he'd reached across the bed, how his fingers had felt against my spine...
My eyes grew heavy, and the last thing I remembered was wondering if he always slept shirtless. Finally, sleep pulled me under.
14
LUCA
I've never been a morning person. Hell, I barely qualify as human before my third energy drink. But that morning, I woke up before dawn, her voice echoing in my head. That soft way she'd said my name right before I'd walked out of my bedroom.
My bedroom.
Where she was currently sleeping in my bed, probably wrapped in my sheets that would now smell like her. That thought wasn't helping my attempts at being a gentleman.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her—the way she'd reached for me during that moment of raw honesty, how perfectly she'd fit in my arms. Wasn't just about her looks, though God knows that was messing with my head enough. It was how she'd looked at my place, like it meant something. How she understood what mattered without me having to explain. The way she could carry her own darkness and still reach out to touch mine.