Chapter Twenty Luca
TWENTY LUCA
The dusky night is stifling. The cicadas howl, and the distant roar of the ocean beckons Luca for a late-night dip.
She knows she should be enjoying nights like these.
It’s hot and beautiful, and the stars are an epic tapestry of fate and riotous light.
In an ancient city like this, it’s a night for nymphs and forgotten gods.
For wild love and laughter, to be reckless and foolish and young and give in to temptation.
And yet Luca can’t dive into the beckoning abyss of abandon when her heart weighs so heavily in her chest, an anchor that drags her mood down.
She wanders out to the side patio, surrounded by lush greenery. Someone has flicked the string lights on. It’s barely enough to combat the shadows, but it creates a warm sphere. The terra-cotta is still sun-warmed beneath Luca’s socked feet.
Claudia and Remi slide out of the villa laden with bottles of wine and cases of beer, which they lay out on a half-wall protecting the patio from an overgrown swath of plants.
“Chug this,” Claudia tells Remi, shoving a bottle at her.
“What, why?” Remi asks, but she obliges anyway, downing the beer in a couple of quick swigs.
Claudia plucks the bottle out of her fingers and places it in the middle of the table. “We’re playing Truth or Drink. Gather the others. And, Luca, don’t you dare think about sneaking off.”
Dread spreads in Luca’s chest, but she goes over to the cases of beer, grabs one, and cracks it open. She’s going to need it. Claudia grins at her. She changed out of her dress and into a pair of tiny jean shorts and a crop top quickly, but her makeup is still intact.
Luca pulls out one of the chairs surrounding the table and flops down into it.
She shrugged off her jacket and bow tie earlier; now, she rolls up her sleeves.
She scoops her hair up, twisting it around her fist. A cool, salty breeze whispers through their private grotto, disturbing the heavy heat that has settled upon Luca’s skin.
The rest of the players Claudia wrangled into her game start to fill up the table. Octavia wanders over and flops into a chair, listless. Her boyfriend, Leo Mantovani, left the previous night for a tournament in London, and Octavia seems adrift without him.
Zoe Almasi sits next to Octavia and smiles over at her. Zoe’s dark silky hair is thrown into a high bun and wrapped with a scarf. Remi hands her a cocktail of some sort before she takes the seat next to her. Only one chair remains between Luca and Remi.
“How does she manage to do this?”
Luca startles and turns as Payton Calimeris slides into said chair, beer in hand. “Who?” Luca asks.
Payton gestures to Claudia, who is arguing with Juliette over the music.
“Seriously, Claudia?” Juliette is saying, hands on her hips.
“What? ‘Pompeii’ is the perfect song for Naples, Jules,” she says, turning up the volume a few ticks.
Juliette shakes her head. “It isn’t even Bastille’s best song,” she grumbles.
“She is very adept at putting us under her spell.” Karoline takes the seat on Luca’s other side. Now Luca is flanked by two absolute legends, and her palms start to sweat.
Karoline is as chic as ever, but she lets her golden hair fall loose around her shoulders. She runs her fingers through the top, fluffing it with one hand as she holds a half-drunk glass of white wine in the other. “I’m surprised you guys even want us here.”
Luca stares at her. Even in this casual setting, her back is ramrod straight and her lipstick is impecable.
She turns her dark brown eyes toward Luca, a corner of her mouth lifting in a small approximation of a smile that’s more of a smirk.
There’s something intimidating about the way she holds herself aloof.
“Don’t mind her,” Payton teases. “She’s just talking shit.
” Luca turns her head to look over at Payton, but she is staring at Karoline, totally at ease in her chair.
Payton has tamed her curls back with a clip, but they spill out the top, the ends beginning to frizz in the Italian heat, a playful grin on her full, lush lips.
This close, Luca can see freckles on the bridge of Payton’s nose, faint against her warm brown skin.
Luca starts to say something, but Claudia cuts her off by spinning the bottle in the center of the table with a flourish and clapping loudly to get everyone’s attention.
“The name of the game is Truth or Drink. Whoever the bottle lands on gets a question from the spinner. Don’t want to answer? Drink up. I’ll go first.”
She flicks the bottom of the bottle, and it whirls wildly, wobbling until it lands on Payton Calimeris.
“Oh, no,” Payton says in mock dismay, but she’s still grinning.
“Come on, live a little,” Claudia presses, leaning forward and planting her elbows on the table so she can properly stare at her.
“The point of the game is that if you don’t want to answer, you must drink,” Karoline says evenly. “And you never say no to that.”
Payton leans forward, staring at Karoline, who lifts her feathery blond brows in a challenge. Payton sighs and turns to Claudia. “Go ahead, then,” she says, resigned like a teacher humoring her young students.
“Have you met your soulmate?” Claudia asks, and everyone’s eyes fall to Payton’s left wrist, wrapped in black to hide whatever name is etched into her skin below it.
Payton pauses, holding her beer halfway to her mouth, as her dark eyes dart around the table. They’re like liquid ink in this light. Then she looks at Claudia and says, “I haven’t.”
Claudia’s spine straightens, and her face is a mix of confusion and shock.
“I thought you were married?” Remi chimes in, now that the game has gotten juicy.
“That’s what I thought!” Claudia exclaims, pointing at Remi.
Next to Luca, Karoline snorts.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I was engaged,” Payton says, rubbing her thumb along the slender neck of her beer bottle. “Never married.”
“What happened?” Juliette asks, leaning forward in tandem with Claudia.
Payton smirks at them and shakes her head. Then, with deliberate slowness, takes an exaggerated drink of her beer.
Payton revealed more than Luca would have expected her to. As she mulls over Payton’s candid response, Luca takes a drink from her own bottle and instantly regrets it. She hates beer.
“Thank you for indulging me, Payton,” Claudia says, saluting her with her wineglass. “You get to spin next!”
“Oh, how fun,” Payton drawls, but she’s grinning as she spins the bottle. It wobbles, nearly falling off the table. Luca holds her breath as it comes close to her, but stops on Karoline.
“Amazing,” Karoline says dryly. “Don’t even bother asking. I’m not answering.” She cheers her wine to the air and drains the whole glass.
“Boo, you’re no fun,” Payton says.
Karoline nudges the bottle with the tip of her acrylic and it does a lazy half-turn before landing on Remi.
“Oh, bring it on, Kitzinger,” Remi says with a wicked grin.
Karoline tilts her head, her gaze searching Remi’s face. “What’s your opinion on open relationships? Polyamory? Polycules?”
Remi blinks, taken aback. It’s quiet for a beat, then Juliette breaks the silence. “You do love to be in other people’s business, Remi. Might be the perfect arrangment for you.”
Remi chokes on a laugh. “Fuck off, Jules,” she says.
“Being nosy and polyamorous are not mutually exclusive,” Karoline says mildly, a smile tugging at the edge of her mouth.
“I’ve never thought about it,” Remi says.
Her gaze slides toward the villa, higher to one of the windows above.
“But I doubt my partner would be a fan.” Luca glances around the table.
They’re missing two members of the Connolly Cup—Xinya, because she didn’t want to be outdoors in the heat, and Nadia, because she doesn’t drink. She files that thought away for later.
“Why not?” Octavia asks, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger. “Jealousy? Posessiveness?”
Remi clears her throat. “You’d have to ask her.”
“We would if we could,” Juliette chimes in, “but someone won’t spill.” Luca frowns. So Juliette is close enough to Remi to even ask about her soulmate? Luca grits her teeth; that level of familiary is foreign to her.
Remi shrugs nonchalantly, but her gaze keeps darting to the villa. “That is also her doing.”
“Ah, your hands are zipped,” Claudia says with a sage nod.
Remi lowers her forehead to her palm. “My lips are zipped? Or my hands are tied?”
Claudia blinks. “That’s what I said, no?”
Karoline hums. “Satisfactory answer, I suppose.” She shrugs.
Remi eagerly spins next and it whirls on the table so fast the bottle is a green blur.
“Aggressive much?” Juliette teases, but she’s laughing so her nose scrunches adorably. A cold pit opens in Luca’s stomach, at odds with the tightness in her throat; an unpleasant mix of a desire to see Juliette laugh like that and a jealousy that Remi made Juliette laugh so easily.
Remi giggles. “I was excited for my turn! I already have my question.”
The bottle finally slows, pointing at Juliette. She groans, running her hands over her hair. “I guess I deserved that.”
Remi cackles. “Perfect. Now, describe your last intimate encounter in three words.” Her eyebrows waggle, and the bridge of Juliette’s nose flushes red.
Juliette holds up her hand. “Unfufilling.” She ticks off a finger. “Short.” She pauses, her gaze sliding purposefully to Luca. “And oily.” She smirks.
Panic freezes Luca in place. Of course Juliette would talk about the massage night and not the last time she had sex.
Anything to make Luca squirm. She didn’t say Luca’s name, but as her gaze lingers, she knows all the others at the table are looking at them.
Did Juliette tell Remi about that night?
About the massage and the kiss and Luca freaking out?
“Sounds boring”—Claudia yawns—“your turn now, Jules, spin.” Claudia smacks Juliette’s shoulder lightly, uncoordinated now that she’s finished her drink.