CHAPTER 10 – ANTONIO
The pub Luca picked is new to me. It’s crowded, which usually makes me wary, but Haddaway’s “What Is Love” is playing, so I’m willing to compromise.
Luca looks relaxed, while I’m a walking spreadsheet of worst-case scenarios.
I miss the reassuring weight of a book in my hand.
Luca’s eyes linger on my face.
“I’m so happy you came. I’ve been meaning to ask you out for ages.”
“Really?” The surprise in my voice is embarrassingly sincere.
“Really.” He grins. “You’re cute.”
“Me?” I ask, then wince.
I sound like I’m fishing for compliments when I’m really just processing the data.
He laughs, warm and unbothered. “Guys must ask you out all the time.”
“Um. No.”
I struggle to come up with something clever to say.
“I didn’t bring a book,” I blurt .
“Were you planning to?”
“Maybe,” I admit, cheeks burning. “My sister told me not to.”
“I’m glad you listened to her,” he says, laughing again.
I wonder if he thinks I’m joking. I wish I was.
We order drinks, and Luca talks about his summer. He tells genuinely funny anecdotes. He asks me questions.
“You make history sound cool,” he says. “I like that. You’re intense.”
“Intense like a serial killer?” I ask, alarmed.
“No. Intense like a hot nerd.”
Oh. I have never thought of myself as a hot nerd. Nerd, yes, but not hot.
Luca brushes my hand, and I don’t flinch or pull away.
“You okay?” he asks. “I hope I’m not talking too much.”
“Not at all,” I say honestly. “I like listening.”
“Perfect. I talk enough for both of us.”
I laugh, and a group of guys glances over. My heart jumps, but nothing happens. They look away. Stay seated. I still clock the back exit.
“You alright?” Luca asks.
“Yeah, sorry. I got distracted.”
He gets us second drinks. I watch him chat easily with the bartender and check in with myself.
This has been fun. Luca is even nicer than I thought. He will want to kiss me. I know that.
Do I want to kiss him? I think—maybe.
Outside my house, he touches my cheek lightly.
“Can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice full of hope.
I know I could say no, but I want to kiss him. I want to know how it feels with him.
It’s a soft, careful kiss. No fireworks, no explosions. Just something pleasant and uncomplicated.
For one miraculous moment, I’m not prey. I’m not broken.
I’m just a boy being kissed under streetlights on a warm summer night.