9. Chapter Nine
9
Sofia
I woke at some indeterminate hour in the morning, Luca's huge body curled up beside me on the couch. He was still fast asleep, his dark hair curling over his forehead, his face vulnerable like it never was when he was awake. I lay there listening to Luca's steady breathing, his heartbeat slow and steady beneath my palm. He looked so young and innocent in sleep. I don't think I'd ever seen him like that. Luca was always someone I could lean on. Someone we all could lean on. I don't think any of us wondered whether Luca sometimes needed someone of his own to lean on.
I watched him for a few moments, my eyes tracing the contours of his face, the sharp planes of his cheekbones, the curve of his jawline. His breathing was deep and even, and his chest rose and fell beneath his shirt. His lips were slightly parted, his eyelashes dark against his cheeks, and I couldn't help but reach out and touch his face, running my fingertips along his cheekbone, the skin surprisingly warm and soft.
He shifted slightly, his eyes fluttering open. I froze, my fingers still on his skin.
"Sorry," I murmured, withdrawing my hand.
He blinked a few times, his eyes clearing. "No, it's fine."
"I didn't mean to wake you."
"It's all right." He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from my face. His touch was gentle, his fingers calloused.
His eyes met mine, one pale grey and the other a dark, deep brown, almost black. A broad, straight nose led down to full lips and a strong jawline that even his beard couldn’t hide. Even after everything he’d been through, Luca was larger than life, a battle-scarred, proud man who still, somehow had managed to retain his gentle heart.
My fingers reached towards him, but he turned away with a grimace. "Don't."
"I'm sorry." I dropped my hand. "I didn't mean to—"
"It’s not that," he cut me off. Luca shifted away from me, sitting up and brushing his long, ragged locks so they curtained the left side of his face. "I just...I need some space right now. I always feel...off after..."
He gestured vaguely to himself. I sat up as well, wrapping my arms around my knees. I understood, of course, but still...
"How often do you get migraines? I mean, that was two this week so far, right?"
That couldn't be normal. This was the second one I'd witnessed, and it had terrified me. Seeing Luca in pain like that cut me to the bone. Not being able to truly do anything to help him made it even worse. By now, I knew he had become a pro at masking his symptoms, but as long as he was truly okay I could let it go. I understood all too well his need for autonomy.
"They come and go. The meds take care of them. I'm sorry you had to witness that," Luca snapped at me.
He stood quickly but swayed once he got to his feet, and he gripped the arm of the sofa.
"Hey, whoa!" I rushed to him, grabbing his arm. "Slow down.”
"I'm fine." He pulled away from me, his jaw set in a stubborn line. "My blood sugar is just low. That's all."
"You don't look fine. You look like you're about to pass out." I reached for him again, but he stepped away from me.
"Don't do this, Sofia. You're not my fucking nurse."
I flinched at his tone, but I didn't back down. I knew he was hurting, and he had every right to be, but I wasn't going to let him push me away. Not this time.
"I know that, Luca. I'm just trying to help."
"I don't need your help!" he snapped, his voice rising. "I can t-take care of myself."
"I know you can." I tried to keep my voice calm and level, despite the way my heart was pounding in my chest. "I just want to make sure you're okay."
He sighed and scrubbed his hand down his face. "I'm fine, Sofia. Really. I just...I need some space right now."
"Okay." I nodded, stepping back. "Okay, I'm going to go make some breakfast—"
"I'm not hungry," he cut in petulantly.
"—while you shower. And then we'll see where we're at." I crossed my arms over my chest, raising an eyebrow at him.
"Fine." He stalked off towards the bathroom, muttering under his breath. "So fucking stubborn..."
I watched him go, my heart aching for him. I knew he hated this, hated having to rely on anyone. But Luca needed help, whether he wanted to admit it or not. I would do whatever it took to make sure he was okay, even if it meant pushing him a little bit.
I made my way into the kitchen and began making breakfast for us both. Luca had seemed nauseous earlier, so he'd probably appreciate something bland. I scrambled some eggs and cooked up some bacon, keeping the spices to a minimum. As the food was cooking, I heard the shower turn on, and I couldn't help but imagine Luca standing under the spray, water running down his muscular frame. Those broad shoulders, narrow waist, leading down to...
I shook my head, trying to dispel the image. Now was not the time to be fantasizing about Luca. I had more important things to worry about.
"That actually smells good."
I turned to see Luca standing in the doorway with a towel slung low around his hips, and my mouth went dry.
His dark hair was damp and curling around his jawline, his skin was flushed from the heat of the shower. He'd lost some of his bulk, but his big frame still rippled with lean muscle. A drop of water dripped from his hair onto his chest, running down the planes of his abs and into the slight dusting of hair leading from his navel and disappearing under the towel. I swallowed hard, my eyes following the trail of water.
"Uh, yeah, it's almost ready. Why don't you get dressed, and I'll serve us?" Or, you could just stand there in that towel and let me drool over you some more.
Luca’s eyes followed mine, and he blushed, looking down at the expanse of exposed skin. "Sure. Yeah. Sorry."
He turned and walked away, and I couldn't help but admire the flex of his back muscles as he moved. Despite the careful way he held himself, the cautious way he now moved, Luca was still one of the most powerful men I'd ever seen.
Damn, had he always been this hot?
I dished out the eggs and bacon onto plates, my mind racing. I'd never thought of Luca in a sexual way before, but now that I'd seen him half naked, it was all I could think about. I noticed that he'd attempted to trim his beard scruff, but he was nicked in places. Then I remembered, Luca was right-handed—he probably had a difficult time managing a razor, especially if he hadn't been keeping up with his PT and OT.
"Something wrong?"
Luca's voice startled me out of my thoughts, and I jumped, nearly dropping the plate I was holding.
"No, nothing's wrong." I set the plate down on the table, avoiding his gaze. "Just thinking."
"About?"
"Nothing important."
I sat down at the table and began eating. Or, at least, I tried to eat, but it’s hard to swallow when you’ve got a case of dry mouth. Luca sat down across from me and picked at his food. He took a few bites, but mostly he just pushed it around his plate. I tried not to worry, knowing that he'd likely be nauseated after the migraine.
We ate in silence for a while, the tension in the air thick and heavy. I wanted to say something, to try and break the tension, but I didn't know what to say. How do you talk to someone you used to know so well, but now feel like a stranger? Especially when you were just caught ogling him?
Finally, Luca broke the silence, his voice quiet and resigned. "Look, Sofia. I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier. You...you're just trying to help. But I really am okay. I don't want you to worry about me."
I nodded, my heart breaking at the vulnerability in his voice. "I know, Luca. And I'm sorry too. I know you hate people fussing over you. I just...I can't help it. You're my friend, and I care about you. I don't want to see you hurting."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know. And I appreciate that. I really do. But I need to do this on my own. I need to figure things out."
"That’s the thing—you don’t have to, Luca. That's the thing. You don't have to go through this by yourself."
He shook his head, a bitter smile twisting his lips. "You don't get it, do you? I'm damaged goods, Sofia. I can't function like I used to. I can't even fucking shave properly."
He waved a hand at his face, gesturing to the half shaved, snarled mess covering up that beautiful jawline.
"Then let me help you."
Luca's eyes snapped up to meet mine, and I saw his guarded expression. "What?"
"Let me help you." I reached out and put my hand over his, squeezing gently. "I'm here for you, Luca. I want to help you. Just let me."
He stared at me for a long moment, mismatched eyes searching mine. I could see the warring emotions on his face, the doubt and uncertainty battling with the need for comfort and help. Finally, he sighed, shaking his head.
"Fine. But only because I look like a damn pirate."
I laughed, relieved that he'd agreed. "You do kind of look like a pirate. A very sexy pirate."
Luca's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he smirked. "Oh yeah? You think I'm sexy?"
I blushed, realizing what I'd said. "Um, I mean...yeah, you are. But that's not the point. The point is, we need to get you cleaned up."
I stood up from the table, grabbing his plate along with mine. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked into the kitchen, my heart racing. I knew I'd just made things awkward between us, but I couldn't deny the truth. Luca was a handsome man, and he'd always been attractive to me. Now, seeing him in pain and vulnerable, it was hard to ignore the need to comfort him.
I put the plates in the sink, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves. I could hear Luca moving around in the living room, and I turned to see him standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb.
"You don't have to do that, you know," he said quietly. "I can take care of myself."
I rolled my eyes, smiling at him. "I know you can. But I want to."
He sighed, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Fine. You win. Let's get this over."
I led him to the bathroom and through the cabinets until I found a fresh razor and a can of shaving cream. Luca emerged from the bedroom in a pair of sweats and a tee shirt—thank God for the tee shirt, because the sight of his bare chest might distract me to the point of accidentally slicing off an ear.
I stepped in front of him and placed two fingers under his chin, tilting his head back. Luca followed me with his eyes. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my hands as I sprayed the shaving cream into my palm. I began to gently spread the foam over his cheeks and chin, taking care to keep my touch light. Luca sat perfectly still, his gaze never leaving my face. Once I'd finished coating his face with the shaving cream, I picked up the razor and carefully brought it to his skin.
"I'll go slow, okay?" I whispered, meeting his gaze.
"Okay," he murmured.
I began to slowly drag the blade over his cheek, careful not to press too hard. As I worked, I couldn't help but notice how close we were, the heat from his body enveloping me. I tried to focus on my task, but it was hard not to notice the way his muscles flexed under my touch.
As I continued, I felt his hands come up to grip my waist, his touch igniting twin blooms of heat that shot straight to my belly. I pressed my lips together, trying to concentrate.
Tilting his head back a bit more, I exposed the line of his throat. As I drew the razor across his skin, my hand brushed over the sensitive spot along his pulse point. My heart was beating wildly and I was trembling as I slid the razor down, revealing the column of his throat, muscles tensing under his skin as he swallowed.
Luca let out a low groan, and I froze, my eyes snapping to his.
"Did I hurt you?" I asked, concerned.
"No," he replied, his voice low and husky. "It's...nice."
Luca snatched a towel from the rack and balled it up in his lap, clenching the fabric in both fists. I swallowed hard, my breath catching in my throat. He was looking at me with a hunger that I'd never seen before, and it sent a jolt of electricity through my body.
Piece by piece, stripe by stripe, Luca was unearthed. Months of tangled, half-shaved scruff peeled away, revealing the beautiful man underneath.
Luca flinched as I approached his scars, his eyes skittering to the side. My hand shot out and I cupped the left side of his face, gentle enough to let him feel me there. He stilled.
"I won't hurt you, Luca. I promise."
"That's not what I'm worried about, sweetheart."
His voice was low and rough, coming deep from within his chest. Still, he refused to meet my eyes.
Luca was embarrassed.
Through the cushion of foam, I felt the ridges of his scars mapping across his cheekbone and down his jaw. My thumb smoothed across the damaged canvas of his skin, soothing. Luca's eyes fluttered closed, turning into the caress.
"It's okay, Luca. I got you."
He finally raised his eyes to meet mine, and I nearly pulled back when I saw the tortured look in them. It was a look of complete and utter desperation, a look of someone who was barely holding it together. I wanted so badly to kiss him at that moment, to show him that I could be the softness and kindness in his life.
Instead, I let the razor kiss softly down his cheek. Mindful of the dips and valleys of his scars. Keeping my movements gentle and sure.
Although the dark edge in his gaze had softened somewhat, raw need still simmered underneath the surface. His hands tightened on my waist. Despite the fact that he was just sitting there, barely moving, Luca’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his eyes never leaving me.
I stepped back, admiring my handiwork. "There. All done."
Luca lifted a hand to his face, rubbing his newly smooth jawline. He looked so much like the old Luca that it almost broke my heart. Solid, easygoing, funny, with a heart as big as the ocean and arms to match. I'd always liked him, even though he was older than me, but now, seeing the depths of his emotions and pain, I was drawn to him in a way that I'd never been before. Luca had a lot happen to him in his life, and I felt like maybe I was seeing the true man for the first time.
"Do you want to see?" I angled a hand mirror towards him. Luca needed to see that he was more than just his scars.
But when I went to take the towel from him, he jumped and clutched it to his lap. Shaking his head, he swallowed hard, standing so quickly the chair overturned. In three long strides, he fled the room, still clutching the towel in front of himself and leaving me standing alone in the bathroom with my jaw on the floor when I caught a glimpse of what he’d been trying to hide.
Luca was aroused.