13. McKenzie
THIRTEEN
McKenzie
Luca was in my kitchen. He’d shown up unannounced and uninvited with dinner . This time he wasn’t here out of some misplaced obligation to keep watch over the drunk girl.
Why is he here?
“What do you want to drink?” I asked, naming the different sodas I had on hand while I pulled a couple of plates down from the cabinet. When I turned back to the counter, I saw he’d already opened the fridge.
“I was just about to ask you that.” I’d almost forgotten he’d familiarized himself with my kitchen only hours ago.
I bit back a grin. “Coke Zero.”
He wrinkled his nose, grabbing my drink and a regular Coke for himself, placing them on the counter. My cats blinked at me, equal parts annoyed and curious about the deviation from our normal routine before sauntering off to the bedroom.
“How do you drink that shit?” Luca asked. “Don’t you miss the real sugar?”
“There will be no Coke Zero slander in my house. That shit is the nectar of the gods.” I reached for a piece of pizza in the open box at the same time he did, and our hands collided in a spark of electricity that made my stomach flip.
“Oh, sorry,” I said, feeling a rush of warmth climb up my cheeks.
He pulled his hand back and shoved it through his dark hair. “No, you go ahead.”
I grabbed a couple of slices, plopping them onto my plate, and he did the same.
“You want to watch a movie or something?” I asked, nodding toward the couch.
“Sure,” he answered, following me to the sofa where my television was on the Netflix home screen.
“What do you want to watch?” I asked, clearing my throat to mask the hint of nervousness clinging to my voice.
He squinted at the screen. “So, you’re into true crime?”
“Huh?”
He pointed to my recently watched queue. “There’s a whole lot of serial killers right there. Should I be worried?”
I snorted. “That’s called being a woman.”
“What? Being obsessed with psychopaths?”
I barked out a laugh, setting my drink on the small wooden coffee table. “Being prepared, in case you end up on a date with a murderer or if you tell the wrong guy ‘no.’”
“Shit. Seriously?”
“Uh, yeah ,” I said. “Dudes are freaks.”
He raised his brows at me. “What if I’m a closet psycho killer?”
“Then you’re a stupid one, because you already had the perfect opportunity to cut my face off and wear it for Halloween, but you chose not to take it.”
He gave me a casual shrug, taking a sip of his Coke.
“ Or ,” he began, “maybe I just wanted to wait until you were sober to show my freaky side.”
My center tightened as I remembered the dream I’d had the night before.
Dream Luca’s words had started a forest fire in my belly. The truth is, McKenzie, when I fuck you, I want you to be able to remember every perfect fucking minute of it. Unfortunately, though, it had all been a dream.
“That should be fun,” I quipped. “Gives me a chance to test out my taser.”
“Your what ?” he asked around a bite of pizza.
“My mom got it for me last year off QVC or something,” I explained. “It looks like a tube of lipstick, but it’s actually a mini taser.”
“I’m intrigued.”
“You want me to use it on you?”
“Um, kind of,” he said with a smirk. “Okay, so what else do you like to watch besides true crime?”
“Well, I also have a fascination with cults.”
“Anything that doesn’t involve coercion, manipulation, or murder?”
“Ah, so nothing fun,” I teased. “I like a lot of stuff. Horror movies, rom-coms from the eighties and nineties.”
“Rom-coms?”
“You know,” I said, reaching for my soda. “Romantic comedies.”
“I know what they are,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m just surprised. You don’t strike me as the mushy type.”
“I’m not, but Meg Ryan is. And I happen to enjoy watching her find love in hopeless places.”
“If Meg Ryan can do it, why can’t you?” he asked.
“Because she isn’t real,” I explained. “I mean, Meg is, but the characters she plays aren’t. That’s why it’s fun. There’s no danger of getting hurt. Unless, of course, you watch the one where she gets with Nicholas Cage, in which case, prepare to cry.”
“So, you’re saying real people cause pain and heartbreak?”
“Duh.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Have you met people?” I asked.
A strand of hair fell into his eyes as he looked over at me. “What about Dallas and Katie? They seem to be doing pretty okay for a couple of real people.”
“For now,” I said before I could stop myself. “It’s just…I mean, you never know. People leave.” I paused, clearing my throat. “What about you? Do you believe in all that?”
He chewed his pizza, forehead creased, deep in thought.
“I don’t know,” he said finally. “I used to think that love stuff was all made up. Something people used as an excuse to justify their unhinged behavior over a silly crush or for some deep-seated desire to get married and start a family so they won’t be alone.”
I nearly choked on my pizza. “And what do you think now?”
“Marriage is still questionable, and kids are a definite no.”
“I know, right? Gross.”
“But maybe that whole love thing is real.” His eyes bore into mine, clear and infinite like tiny crystal balls. I worried that if I stared too long, I’d start to see my future within their depths. “I’ve seen all my friends find it.”
“Or maybe they’re just delusional.”
“Maybe,” Luca said. “But they’re happy.”
“Isn’t that kind of the same thing?” I joked.
He grinned. “But it sounds nice sometimes, you know?”
I did know. But there was no delusion, no love worth the weight I’d carry if I lost it.
“Sounds like you’re the one watching too many Meg Ryan movies,” I said, chomping into my slice.
“I’ve never seen one,” he admitted.
I reached for the remote. “Guess we know what we’re watching then.”
“Let’s watch the one you were talking about earlier,” he said. “The one with Nicholas Cage.”
“You’re out of your mind,” I said, flipping through the movie options. “That one is not beginner friendly.”
He blew a puff of air through his luscious lips. “I can handle it.”
“The hell you can.”
“I can,” he insisted. “Movies don’t make me emotional.”
“Probably because you’re watching fucking Die Hard. ”
“What’s wrong with Die Hard ?”
“Nothing,” I said. “But it’s not exactly the tug on your heartstrings kind of film.”
“I can handle it,” he said again. The corner of his mouth drew up into a playful half smile, and I couldn’t help but wonder what those lips tasted like.
“Fine,” I said, returning my attention to the television and scrolled until I found City of Angels . “Guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
The credits rolled, and I snuck a glance at Luca who stared straight ahead, a pained expression on his face. His cheeks shined, and his hands rested on his knees, gripping them so hard his knuckles had turned translucent. Binx and Earl Grey, who had nestled themselves between us, were unbothered.
“So,” I said, discreetly swiping my fingers beneath my lashes to collect my tears before they could spill over. “What did you think?”
He blinked in silence, unmoving. Just when I thought that maybe he hadn’t heard me, he finally spoke.
“That was an act of violence,” he said, facing me.
I choked on a laugh. “One that you asked for.”
“For fuck’s sake.” He tugged at the collar of his shirt, using it to soak up the moisture on his skin. “You could have warned me.”
“I did,” I said, scratching Binx behind one ear. “ You said you could handle it. Amateur.”
He scoffed. “Don’t think I didn’t hear your cute little sniffles over there.”
Cute? Warmth spread up my neck and over my cheeks. I bit back a grin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Like hell you don’t,” he teased before turning his shimmering blue eyes into the most adorable puppy dog face I’d ever seen. He drew his lips together in a quivering pout and sniffed. “That was you for the last third of the movie, even though you knew what trauma awaited us.”
“Was not,” I argued.
“You thought you were being sneaky wiping away those tears, but I saw you.”
“What do you expect?” I asked. “I’m not a monster. At least not when it comes to fictional characters. I reserve my contempt for real people.”
“I call bullshit,” he declared, leaning back with his elbow propped against the sofa.
“Funny, because I call bullshit on you too, Mr. I-can-handle-it ,” I fired back. “Maybe you’re not the emotionally aloof guy you’ve led people to believe you are, either.”
“Emotionally aloof, huh?” he asked. “I thought I was an asshole.”
I shrugged and flashed him an amused smirk. “Same thing.”
“Seems there’s more to me than you thought.”
“I guess ,” I said with an exaggerated eye roll.
His tongue flicked over his lips before they stretched into a smile. “Maybe next time we can pick something less depressing. Top Gun or The Fast and the Furious .”
Next time? My stomach did a backflip.
I scrunched my nose. “I’ve got to draw the line there. Nobody moves me to tears like Vin Diesel.”
“Oh, really?”
“Those muscles,” I said, wiping away an imaginary tear. “They’re works of art.”
“So, that’s what it takes to win you over,” he said. “Biceps as big as your head.”
Actually, I prefer pale dudes with eyes that see right into your soul, who know how to use their fingers on a fretboard, and also, probably on a woman.
But I couldn’t say any of that out loud, so instead, I said, “That, or like, vampires. More Lestat or Louis than Edward Cullen. I prefer my vampires to be more charming than sparkly.”
“Sparkly?” he asked. “Is that a thing? Do they dress in sequins or something?”
“Never mind,” I mumbled. I’d already disturbed the man enough for one night without detailing the entire Twilight Saga for him. Maybe I’d save that for next time.
He ran his long fingers along Earl Grey’s back. “It’s getting late. I should probably get going.”
“Oh, yeah.” I rose to my feet with him. “I’ll walk you out.”
“This was fun,” we both said as we moved toward the door.
A nervous laugh crept out of my throat. “Thanks again for dinner. That was…unexpected.”
“But not unwelcome?” he asked, his hand hovering over the knob.
I shook my head. “Not unwelcome at all.”
He dragged his fingers through his hair and fixed his gaze on me, taking a step closer. It took all the strength in my body to not close my eyes as I breathed him in, the scent of coffee and the quiet calm after a storm drawing me in.
“Would you maybe want to hang out again tomorrow?” he asked. “If you’re not busy, of course. I know you have the day off, and you probably already have plans.”
“I don’t,” I said, probably a little too quickly.
“It’s just that…I think I’ve decided I’m going to rent a place here. At least short-term while I figure out what’s next.”
“Oh, really?” I tried to temper the excitement in my voice.
“Dallas and Katie have been great to let me stay with them, but I think I need a space of my own,” he said. “And I could use someone who knows the area well to help me find something.”
I attempted to keep my tone as casual as possible. “I could do that.”
“Okay.” He grinned. “Pick you up tomorrow at eleven?”
“Perfect.”
He started to twist the door handle but stopped midturn. “I should probably get your number. You know,” —he paused, digging his phone out of his jacket pocket— “in case something comes up and you need to cancel.”
“Yeah, of course.” I punched my number into his device before handing it back. His fingers danced across the screen, and within seconds, my own phone chimed from the kitchen counter.
“And now you have mine too.”
My heart jumped and kicked its heels. “Great.”
“Then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, “unless something comes up.”
With one last smile, he opened the door.
“Sounds good,” I said. “If anything changes, I’ll let you know.”
But of course, nothing would. There wasn’t anything that could keep me from spending another day with Luca.
“Good night,” he called over his shoulder as he started down the stairs.
“Night,” I replied, watching him cross the yard before locking the door behind him.
I squealed and ran back to the sofa, scooping up Earl Grey like a small child and twirling with him in my arms.
“Early Bird,” I sang his nickname off-key as Binx made a beeline for the bedroom to get the hell out of Dodge. “The most distinguished kitty-man I ever did see. Can you believe? Luca wants to hang out with me…”
A loud knock on my door Saturday morning jolted me out of the cozy cocoon that was my bed. Shit. Is that Luca? Did I oversleep? I snatched my phone from the nightstand to find it was only a little after eight thirty.
Binx and Earl Grey regarded me through slits, probably wondering who I was and what I’d done with their antisocial mother.
There was another knock, and I threw a sweatshirt over my loose T-shirt and shorts.
“Coming,” I shouted, padding to the living room.
I flung open the door to find Kia with a drink carrier in her hands containing two coffees.
“I thought I was going to have to send out a search party,” she said, a you’ve-got-some-explaining-to-do expression on her face.
I winced. “Sorry.”
“I’ve got to be at work by ten, so you better get talking,” she said, pushing past me.
“Wait a second,” I said. “You’ve never been here before. How did you even know where I live?”
She placed the drinks on the coffee table and settled onto my sofa. “It’s not that hard to find people these days. Even if they don’t want to be found.”
“But—”
“If you must know, I showed up at the restaurant this morning looking for you,” she explained. “The girl working told me you were off today, and I said I must’ve gotten confused on where we were meeting. Then I said I’d misplaced your address and couldn’t get you on the phone, so she got it out of your file for me.”
I folded my arms over my chest and joined her on the couch. “I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to be giving out employee information like that.”
She pursed her fuchsia lips. “Maybe. But I did tell her I was serving you court documents, so maybe just let that one slide.”
“Kia!” I swatted her arm. “How the hell am I supposed to explain that?”
“That sounds like a you problem,” she said with a laugh. “Should’ve answered your phone. Now, drink your coffee and tell me what the hell is going on.”
“Nothing,” I insisted, but she pinned me with a glare. “Fine.” I took a deep breath and gave her the abridged version of the chain of events, beginning with me going to The Piccadilly Deli and ending with Luca asking me to help him find a place after he brought over dinner the night before. But when I got to the part about the morning when I told him about Brennan, I couldn’t skip over what Luca had confessed about his own struggles, though I asked her to keep it between us. If anyone could understand someone trying to heal, it would be Kia. After what we’d been through, how could she not?
She studied me with her elbows perched on her knees, nodding slowly. “Hmm.”
“Hmm?” I questioned. “What do you mean ‘hmm’?”
Her oxblood nails tapped against the coffee cup cradled in her hands.
“It’s just…Is this really a good idea?” she asked, a hint of trepidation in her voice.
“What do you mean?”
“Under any other circumstances, I’d be thrilled that you met someone you seem to like,” she said. “But with your history…after Brennan…do you think it’s wise to get close to someone like that?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Someone like what?”
“A guy dealing with the kind of shit he is.” Her voice was soft, understanding. “That could be very triggering for you. It could also put a lot of undue pressure on the relationship.”
“First of all, we’re just friends. It’s not that serious.”
She cocked her head like she wasn’t buying what I was selling. “I don’t think you’ve seen the way your face lights up when you mention his name.”
The burn of my cheeks was giving me away. “Okay, well, whatever. Even if I did like him, so what? He’s been through some serious shit, but who hasn’t. I mean, look at us and Ravi and Jen. We’re friends.”
She shook her head. “That’s not the same thing.”
“Yes, it is,” I argued.
“No,” she said, the word sharp and final. “It isn’t. We” —she twirled her slender finger in a circle between us— “are connected because we lost people we loved. It sounds like Luca almost decided to be lost.”
“And?” I asked. “So what? He doesn’t deserve a friend?”
“Of course, he does,” she said. “All I’m saying is you might not be the right person to fill that role for him.”
“I think I’m exactly the right person,” I said. “I understand him in a way nobody else does because I know what loss feels like. Maybe I can keep him from…I could stop it from happening again and—”
She held out her hand and cut me off. “And that is what I’m talking about.”
“What?”
Her brown eyes bore into mine. “You can’t save him, McKenzie. That’s too much responsibility for one person to take on. And even if you could, it’s not going to bring Brennan back.”
“I know that,” I snapped. “Don’t you think I know that?” She moved to place her hand on my arm, but I pulled away. “Did you come here to check on me or to lecture me?”
“I’m not trying to lecture you, but I am worried about you.”
“Just because you’ve apparently decided to live the rest of your life alone doesn’t mean I—” Her eyes went wide, and I clapped my hands over my mouth.
She swiped her tongue over her teeth. “I’m going to give you five seconds to reel that back in.”
“Kia, I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean that.”
She arched her brows.
“I didn’t,” I promised. “It’s just…I don’t know. I feel protective over him.”
“And I am protective of you,” she said. “I’m sure Luca’s a great guy, but he’s not my friend. You are. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“He’s not going to hurt me,” I stated with a lot more conviction than I felt.
“Maybe not on purpose,” she said. “Just…be careful. That’s all I’m saying.”
I dropped my gaze to the cup in my hands.
“Look, I’ve said my piece,” she said. “I’ll let it go.”
“I like him,” I confessed.
“I can tell.”
“Please be happy for me,” I said, eyes pleading. “I haven’t felt like this in…well, ever . I want to be excited. And I want you to be excited with me.”
“On one condition,” she said.
“What?”
“No more disappearing acts.” She gave me an accusatory stare. “He needs a support system, but so do you.”
“Promise.”
She rose to her feet. “Come on, then.”
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“I’ve got ten more minutes before I have to go,” she said with a grin. “And if you think I’m leaving you to your own devices to pick out an outfit, you’re out of your mind.”