Chapter 18 #2
“Both,” Rina claims. “It’s both. It’s a great story and fun if you’re both huge sports fans, but it’s also a total cliché. I bet they’re doing this just to go viral on TikTok.”
“Agreed,” Elle, Amelia, and I all say together, causing another round of high-fives and giggles, this time between the three of us.
“Brecken is a huge Bruin’s fan. You could get married at the Garden during one of the games.”
Rina gives Grace a glare that could skin a cat alive. It promises murder and mayhem if she continues with that sentiment. Especially in front of—
“No one is getting married at a sporting event.” Octavia raises a pointed eyebrow at all the women surrounding me as she shifts in her seat, crossing her legs at the knee and placing her hands gently on her lap.
“But I wouldn’t mind planning a few weddings.
Making a certain engagement ring that belonged to my grandmother official.
” An eyebrow for Amelia. “Making something official before my grandson is born.” That one is for Grace, who just laughs lightly.
“And helping to put a certain man who is anxious to tie the knot out of his misery.” That last look is for Rina, who just rolls her eyes because Octavia is her mother, and she can do that.
None of the rest of us dare attempt it—she’s too sweet.
“Wow. This is a dangerous discussion if ever there was one,” Elle states, rising out of her seat. “I’m going to get another glass of wine. Anyone want one? All of you? Fabulous, I’ll bring back a tray.”
“I’ll help.” I stand up, stretching out my aching back—playing cello for several hours a day is no joke on your spine and back muscles. “I have to use the restroom anyway.”
The second we’re out of earshot of the other women, Elle sags in relief. “Woo. I love Landon and I love this family, but they are intense.”
“No joke. Try growing up with them.”
“Lord baby Jesus in the manger, no, thanks. My family was absolutely no picnic, but I swear, if Octavia starts in on me next with this whole marriage stuff, I’ll break out into hives.”
“I don’t blame you. At least I’m exempt from that.”
I get a snort and a total “who the hell are you kidding” face. “I wouldn’t be so sure on that particular conversation. From the moment I met the real Luca, he’s told me time and time again that his heart already belongs to someone. Rumor has it, that someone is you.”
“The real Luca?”
She breaks out into a laugh. “Yes. I originally met Landon at a bar in Boston on my first night in town, but he was introduced to me as Luca. I slept with him, thinking the damn man’s name was Luca, only to meet him as Landon the next night when I opened my front door and discovered we were neighbors.
Evidently, Landon, on the occasions he’d go out prowling for a woman, would do so as Luca so that if he was photographed, it would be as Luca and not as himself. ”
I shake my head, trying to understand what she’s saying. “Landon would go out and meet women claiming he was Luca?”
“Yup. That way Stella wouldn’t see her dad with a strange woman online.”
I blink at her. “So… some of those photos of Luca with women…”
“Might have been Landon, yes. From what I understand, Luca never ever takes anyone to his bed.” She gives me a wink and then saunters off toward the bar, leaving me to grapple with that not so insignificant piece of information.
Not that it matters, right? It doesn’t. Luca and I are over and have been for four years. Me returning home and him saying a couple things and me learning this changes nothing.
I shouldn’t have come tonight. Everyone—myself included—is so hyperaware of the elephant in the room.
Always on eggshells. This is why I avoided him for four years.
I love his family with my whole heart, but being near him makes me feel like I drank twenty shots of espresso and chased them down with amphetamines.
The bathroom is located near the entrance of the luxury suite and once I’ve done my business and exit, the thought of going back in there and sitting through another two hours of the game and then traffic to get home doesn’t appeal.
We took five SUVs here, coming as a group along with a couple security guys.
I could ask my father to drive me home in one of those cars, but I know he’s enjoying the game and I don’t want to pull him away from that.
Staring at the room, at everyone enjoying themselves and realizing I won’t be missed for a little bit, I exit the box, stepping out onto the long, wide, empty corridor that overlooks the busy club lounge below.
Luca is in that suite, but him being here isn’t the reason Thursday night in the apartment with him has been recycling itself through my thoughts.
Everything I did was because I love you. Was because I had to. For both of us.
His cryptic words make me feel like a game he never stopped playing. A game he wants to win at all costs regardless of the potential outcome to the other player.
Why am I not rid of him?
I told myself I was. It took me two years to shake his ghosts and then, I only went with easy, emotionless fun.
But even that fun was tainted. I had sex with someone else, but I never opened my eyes.
I never enjoyed kissing. It was shallow and empty and more often than not, I preferred my vibrator and porn to the actual thing.
I’ve wondered if he ruined me. Honest to God ruined me for a life of happiness beyond him. I never trust anyone enough to date them. Always afraid that if I fell for someone else, it would end the same way.
Antonio is supposed to be a god in the sack and no, he wouldn’t linger with me long. He has no interest beyond the physical. But he’s not what my body craves and that makes me hate—
“Figured I’d find you out here.”
— him even more.
“Does my father know you followed me out here?”
“I’m sure he does since the man was an actual spy, but I didn’t exactly ask for permission. He would have said no, and I wouldn’t have listened, and I don’t relish the idea of your father kicking my ass in front of my brothers.”
“Go back inside, Luca. You’re missing the game.”
I feel him move in behind me. Not touching, but close as his body heat curls a warm path around me, the scent of his cologne finding my weakest spots. My eyes snap shut, and my teeth sink into my bottom lip, my hands gripping the railing like a vise.
Don’t move. Don’t turn around. Don’t look at him. Don’t give in.
“I have a seven a.m. surgery tomorrow.” Another step and now I feel his breath falling on me. “I’m only here tonight because I knew you were going to be. Well, and my mother asked all of us to come if we could. Are you ready to go? I can drive you home.”
“No, thanks.”
Undeterred, his finger finds the hem of my slightly cropped sweater, playing with the wool. My teeth sink deeper into my lip.
“I’m glad you’re moving into the apartment. Thank you for that.”
“I’m not doing it for you.”
“I know you’re not.” His hand glides up my back, a whisper as it hovers over my sweater until it finds my hair, dragging along it as gentle as a breeze that feels more like sharp, electric pulses. “You look beautiful tonight. So beautiful I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you.”
“Please stop.” Only my voice isn’t my own. It’s breathless and needy.
His lips ghost my ear as he murmurs, “Why? Because you like my hands on you too much?”
Yes .
“Because I don’t want you to touch me.”
“If you let me drive you home, we’ll just talk. I won’t touch you. Even though you want me to.”
I spin around, a feral, scrappy cat ready to dig my claws in when—
“Hi, Luca,” a woman walking by in a tight, black serving uniform purrs with a smile that tells me she’s fucked him six ways to Sunday. Which, ironically, is what today is so…
His head snaps in her direction. “Um. Hi, Justine.”
He knows her name. Awesome.
She bats her eyelashes but keeps walking, entering another luxury suite and leaving me alone on the vacant balcony with him, only the sound of the crowd below as a buffer.
He turns back to me. “She’s worked in our booth before.”
“Uh-huh. Are her tits real or fake?”
He shakes his head, crowding me back against the railing, his eyes swirling a cautious path all over me. “I wouldn’t know.”
I bluster out a breath, reaching behind me and gripping the railing. Why do I even care? “I don’t care, Doctor Playboy. Go fuck her or another woman or just go back inside and leave me the hell alone.”
Fury and resentment flare in his eyes. “You have it all wrong with that.”
“Do I?” I challenge, hating how I want him to tell me that what Elle said was true. All of it.
Body leaning in, his hard cock presses into my lower belly as if to say, feel this, no one else does this to me but you . His hands meet the railing on either side of me, caging me in as he dips right in front of my face.
“Yes. You’re the last person I fucked. Can you say the same?” His eyes cut a path back and forth between mine. “Did you know sound carries all around that booth?”
“Again, I don’t care.”
“Yes, you do. You might hate it, but you care a lot, Little Bird. It’s all over your pretty face. Are you fucking that guy? Your conductor?”
Jesus. Is he for real?
“Yes,” I lie.
He grits his teeth, clenching his jaw so tight, I hear it creak. His eyes pierce into mine. “How many blue pills does he require to get it up?”
“With me?” I smirk tauntingly. “None. I’m a magic bullet of sexual dynamo. Now go back inside.”
“I should. I’m not supposed to be out here. I’m supposed to be trying for patience and keeping my dick in my pants with you.”
Anger claws up my body, heating my blood, an angry torrent as I push him back, forcing him to take a step away, and I storm down the corridor. “Then why are you out here? Why won’t you leave me alone?”