SEVENTEEN
As we stood in the quiet hallway, Luca’s presence seemed to consume the space, leaving me breathless. Luca’s eyes lingered on me, and I caught myself smiling, knowing this was all temporary, all just for him. There was no expectations, no heavy consequences. Just two people enjoying a night together, no strings attached.
His voice was low, teasing. “You look stunning, Charlie.”
“Thank you,”
I replied with a smile, giving him a playful once-over. “You’re not looking too bad yourself.”
He moved closer, his proximity sending a shiver through me. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been so captivated by someone.”
I swallowed, feeling the weight of his gaze, and said softly, “I feel the same.”
The air between us crackled. This was it, that thrilling energy. There was no way to ignore it. I kept telling myself it was okay to live in the moment. Not everything had to be planned out. This is what vacations are about—no commitments, no regrets, just an escape from reality.
I leaned into the fun of it all, our conversation moving easily, the banter playful, and Luca’s presence compared to watching Henry Cavil as the Witcher. So fucking sexy.
He lifted his hand, brushing his fingers down my arm, sending heat pooling in my core. “You know,”
he murmured, “I’m trying very hard to be a gentleman tonight.”
I laughed softly, my heart racing. “Are you?”
He grinned, that familiar mischief flashing in his eyes. “Yes, but you’re making it very difficult.”
I leaned in, letting the tension build, my lips inches from his. “Good,”
I whispered, the thrill of the moment making my skin tingle.
His breath hitched, and for a second, it felt like everything hung in the balance. I could feel the magnetic pull between us, the unspoken invitation in his eyes, but instead of closing the distance, he stepped back, his expression shifting from desire to something softer.
There’s a natural rhythm, a feeling like we’ve done this a thousand times before, even though we’ve just started. The air is warm, the city hummed around us, and I felt myself relax in his presence.
“So, Charlie,”
he began, a playful smile dancing to his tone, “if you had to pick a favorite city in the States, what would it be?”
I took a sip, letting the wine linger on my tongue as I think it over. “Well, I love New York, obviously,”
I gestured around as if the energy of the city somehow spills over from the States. “But if I had to pick another…it’d be Chicago.”
Luca’s eyes lit up. “Chicago? It’s one of my favorites too! I went to graduate school at Northwestern.”
I tilted my head, intrigued. “Really? That’s great. What’s do you love about the city?”
He was excited to talk about Chicago. “The architecture, for one. There’s this raw elegance to it. Those skyscrapers rising against the lake, the way the city blends old and new. It feels alive, like it’s got a soul.”
I agreed completely. “Yes, exactly! And the food… oh my God. Have you been to Alinea?”
His conceded immediately, eyes sparkling with recognition. “Alinea? Are you kidding? It’s like eating art. I went last year—unreal.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “I was there last year too! We must have just missed each other.”
He chuckled, his hand brushed mine lightly as he sets down his glass. “What about pizza? Lou Malnati’s deep-dish—please tell me you’ve had it.”
“Of course!”
I exclaimed. “But I’m a Gino’s East girl at heart—mushroom, spinach, and olives. It’s my go-to.”
Luca raised an eyebrow, his expression curious. “That’s a very specific order.”
“It’s the best,”
I insisted, laughing. “There’s something about the way that deep-dish crust soaks up all the flavors. It’s comfort food at its finest.”
He shook his head in amusement. “You know, I’ve been to Chicago many times, but I’ve never tried Gino’s East. You’ll have to take me someday.”
“Oh, absolutely.”
I wanted to take him there. “What about you? Best pizza you’ve ever had?”
There was no hesitation. “There’s a place in Naples, just a few streets from the harbor. Tiny, barely enough room to sit. They’ve been using the same wood-fired oven for over a hundred years. The crust is thin, crispy at the edges, but soft enough to fold. They keep it simple—San Marzano tomatoes, mozzarella di bufala, a sprinkle of fresh basil, and a drizzle of olive oil.”
His eyes softened as he spoke, and I heard the love in his voice. “It’s like coming home. Every bite brings back memories of running around the streets as a kid, the taste of home after being away for too long.”
“Sounds like heaven,”
I imagined the exact place.
“It is. And if you ever try it, you’ll never look at pizza the same way again.”
We continued talking, moving through stories of cities we love, and I realized how much I appreciate Chicago because I don’t live there. “It’s got this energy, you know? But New York… it’s different. There’s a pulse that never stops. It’s exciting, but exhausting.”
He understood. “New York grabs you, pulls you into its current. But sometimes it’s overwhelming. That’s why I escape to California—to the vineyards. It’s business, sure, but it’s also the light, the calm.”
I chuckled, picturing the contrast. “Wine country versus the concrete jungle—quite the difference.”
“True,”
he admitted, “but New York has its charm too. The Met, Central Park in the fall, jazz clubs in the Village… It’s captivating, but you can never truly catch your breath.”
“I get it.”
I loved that city so much. “But there’s a thrill in the chaos too. The late-night diners, rooftop bars, finding hidden gems… it’s like you’re always on the brink of something amazing.”
His eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief. “You’re an explorer. It suits you.”
I laughed,“And you? Discovering vineyards must be its own kind of adventure.”
He shrugged. “Every vineyard has its story, its history. It’s a different thrill—finding the perfect vintage, uncovering hidden gems.”
“Sounds like we’ve been living parallel lives,”
I told him. “We’re just missing each other in different parts of the world.”
Luca’s gaze softened. “Maybe...”
He doesn’t quite finish his thought.
We stood there, our faces close enough that I could feel the warmth of his breath, smell the faint hint of wine. The moment felt like it could shatter or explode. I wasn’t sure which way it would go.
We made it back to the hotel laughing and having fun. Suddenly, we stood at my hotel door, the playful energy shifted. The kiss that followed was not playful—it was everything we’d been building toward, deep, intoxicating, and full of unspoken longing. When he pulled away, I couldn’t stop the rush of emotions that flooded me.
Luca looked at me, his gaze softer now but still intense, and the words that escaped him were almost too much to bear. “I don’t want this to end, Charlie. But I don’t want it to be just one night. I’ve had too many of those—I’m not ready for this to be over.”
His confession, raw and honest, struck me. I wanted to believe in it, but I also knew that I was here for fun, this was my month of fun! And Luca, he was a guy who embraced the hookup lifestyle like it was his personal business.
I choked down my next words, “You’re right. We should call it a night.”
I said, trying to ignore the way my heart skipped at the thought of walking away from this.
Luca’s pull was undeniable. He stepped closer, his hand at my back, the intensity of his eyes making it harder to breathe. “Charlie…”
he whispered, and everything in me screamed to close the gap. “Ti desidero.”
For a moment, I thought I might, but forced myself to take a step back. “Luca,”
I muttered, his words a promise that sent shivers down my spine.
“Goodnight, Luca,”
I managed.
I shut and leaned against the door, the quiet stillness of my room only amplifying the ache I felt for more. “Je te veux, Luca,”
I teased, my heart pounding in my chest.
I moved to my bed—back against the wall with the balcony door open.
The city chatter below lingered like white noise. I reminded myself that I didn't have to be a prisoner to anyone’s reaction or opinion of me (most notably myself).
What mattered what how I felt about the choices I made. This month, this adventure, was mine to embrace, and it was okay to do something wild, something unexpected. Because the more I loved my decisions, the less I needed anyone else’s approval.