TWENTY-NINE
Luca
I sat across from Alessandro, nursing a glass of wine, the amber liquid swirling as the low hum of the bar played in the background. We’d been talking for a while, but the conversation shifted when I saw that look in Alessandro’s eyes—the one that said he wasn’t just having casual banter anymore.
Alessandro looked directly at me, “You know, it’s almost funny. Of all the women in the world, you end up tangled with Charlie Monroe.”
I narrowed my eyes, “Tangled? That’s dramatic, even for you. We’re just…spending time together.”
He chuckled, “Luca, I’ve known Charlie since before she was born. She’s not the type to just ‘spend time’ with anyone.”
I was curious, “You know her that well?”
Alessandro looked annoyed at his, like it was common knowledge. “Yes! I know her that well.”
Now I was getting annoyed, “So, what are you saying? That I’m not good enough to spend time with her?”
He shrugged, “That’s not for me to decide. But I’ll tell you this—Charlie doesn’t do casual. She might play along for a while, but she’s not the type to waste time on something that doesn’t mean anything. And she’s definitely not the type to get swept up by a man who doesn’t know what he wants. I know you. You have been doing the ‘bang and bye’ routine the entire time.”
I frowned, swirling my drink, “I think you’re making too much out of this. I just—I don’t know.”
Cutting me off, Alessandro argued, “Don’t bullshit me. This time, though, I think you’re out of your depth.”
I was defensive. I was never defensive. I didn’t need to rationalize what we were doing with anyone—not even Alessandro. “Out of my depth? Please. We’re on the same page.”
“Are you? Because I saw the way you looked at her when you walked up to me earlier. That’s not the look of a man who’s just having fun. That’s the look of a man who’s trying to convince himself he’s not in trouble.”
I took a sip of my drink, trying to deflect the conversation. “She not like anyone I’ve met before. I’ll give you that. But it doesn’t mean I’m planning my future or changing my life over it.”
Alessandro snapped at me, “Charlie doesn’t need you, Luca. She’s perfectly capable of walking away.”
I agreed, even if I didn’t know if I wanted to believe it. “I know.”
Alessandro toned it down, “Look, I’m not trying to be the asshole or scare you off. I just know her well enough to say this—you better keep it real casual if you expect to have a business relationship after this vacation of hers. She’s on the rebound. That’s not really her style, but it’s a possibility. She’s just not the woman you half-commit to or can let go of as easily as you think. She’s an ‘all-in’ or ‘out’ kinda person, nothing in between.
“I’m just preparing you—you’re playing with fire, Luca,”
he said, his voice low and deliberate. “You need to remember who Charlie is. She’s not someone you get to just—” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “—mess around with.”
I sat up straighter, my gaze locking onto his. “What do you mean?”
Alessandro wasn’t one for unnecessary words. He took a sip of his drink, then placed the glass down on the table with a soft clink. “She’s family. She’s not like the other women you’re used to. Don’t take her lightly. This isn’t just business. She’s special.”
I felt my chest tighten, a small jolt of something unexpected hitting me. I knew Charlie was different, but I hadn’t let myself fully accept it. I leaned back in my chair, swirling the wine in my glass, unsure of how to respond.
Alessandro raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a wry smile. “She’s beautiful. Smart. Fun. I get that. But tread carefully, Luca. For your sake and for hers.”
I couldn’t shake the feeling that Alessandro was right. I wasn’t used to feeling so…conflicted. I pushed the thought away, brushing off the nagging feeling in the back of my mind. He sighed, his gaze softening. “Charlie’s more complicated than you think.”
He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “She’s got layers, Luca. You’re not the kind of man that can deal with that—a woman in her own full power. You’re used to women who fall at your feet. I get that. That’s just never going to be Charlie. She will never chase you.”
The weight of his words hung in the air. I hated that I didn’t know everything about her yet, but part of me liked the mystery. I felt myself wanting to know more, but I also knew I had to tread carefully. I stared into my glass, swishing the wine slowly as I tried to get a grip on my thoughts. “I get it,”
I muttered. “I’ll be careful. I know what I’m doing.”
Alessandro chuckled under his breath, but there was no humor in it. “Sure you do. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Why are you here, right now,”
I asked him, as he waved the waiter over to close out of table.
“Just wanted to stop by my house and pick up a few things before heading to that conference in Milan. Your going still, right”
he asked as he paid. “I wanted to check on Charlie, too. This is a long solo trip.”
“Yes, I’ll be there,”
I replied.
This was confirmation of his closeness to Charlie and her family. I knew him at the business and friend level. We’ve had crazy nights out partying together over the years, but this was different. He wanted to make sure she was safe and okay.
I felt a pang of frustration. Why did everything feel so complicated with her? Was I making it that way? Everything has been fun and liberating. Usually, I never see a woman this many times, but why not? There is an expiration date and it’s coming quickly. The attraction was undeniable, but every time we were together, I felt this pull—a need to stay close to her, a desperate want that I didn’t fully understand. And now, Alessandro had planted that seed of doubt in my mind, making me question my own intentions.
I excused myself, my mind racing. I needed to see her again—especially after parting suddenly. I needed to know if it was just this, just the chemistry between us, or if something more was brewing. I told her it could be easy. It could be. It was our choice.
I found her on the rooftop bar of the hotel, laughing with Sophie—her friend from the picture she texted me the other night. The sound of her laughter cut through the air, infectious and light, and it made my chest tighten with a mix of desire and something else—something I couldn’t name yet. She looked so free, so unburdened in that moment, and I couldn’t help but stare at her for a beat longer than I should have.
Sophie noticed me first and gave me a playful look before whispering in Charlie’s ear and excusing herself, leaving us alone.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come,”
she said, her eyes sparkling with a knowing look. I could see the fire behind her eyes, the same one that had drawn me to her from the start. But this time, I felt something different—a deeper longing I wasn’t ready to admit to myself.
“I was always coming,”
I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
She looked at me, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile. I couldn’t take it anymore. The space between us was a magnet, pulling us closer with every heartbeat. I crossed the distance between us and kissed her, desperate, hungry, and needing to feel her against me. There was no time to think, no space for doubts. I was lost in the moment, and I didn’t want to be found.
When we finally broke apart, the air between us was thick with heat. I realized then that I hadn’t been thinking about tomorrow, or what came after. It was just now, just this moment, and I was consumed by it.
I pulled away, feeling the weight of the situation hit me in an unexpected wave. “Do you want me to go,”
I muttered, unable to meet her eyes.
She looked at me, puzzled. “Absolutely not.”
The tension lingered, a live wire neither of us was ready to let go of. Her lips were still slightly parted, her breath shallow, and I could feel her pulse racing just beneath the surface. Without another word, she turned, glancing over her shoulder as if daring me to follow.
I did.
The path to her room was illuminated by soft, golden light from the sconces along the walls, but the night felt darker, more intimate. Each step echoed softly, a rhythm that matched the thrum of anticipation in my chest.
She walked a step ahead of me, her movements graceful, deliberate. I couldn’t take my eyes off her—the curve of her back, the way her hair caught the light, and the confidence in her stride. It was maddening.
When we reached the door, she paused, her fingers brushing the handle. She didn’t open it right away, just stood there, her back to me, as if waiting for something.
“Are you going to keep me out here all night?”
I asked, my voice low, teasing, though the tightness in my chest betrayed how much I wanted her to turn around.
She glanced at me over her shoulder, a coy smile playing on her lips. “That depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether you’re planning to behave.”
I stepped closer, close enough that I could feel the heat of her, smell the faint, intoxicating scent of her perfume. “I don’t think I’ve behaved since I met you.”
She laughed softly, shaking her head as she turned the key and pushed the door open. The room inside was warm and inviting, the soft glow of a single lamp casting long shadows on the walls. She stepped inside, her hand trailing along the edge of the doorframe, and I followed, unable to stay away.
The door clicked shut behind me, the sound louder than it should’ve been in the quiet room.
She turned to face me, leaning back against the edge of a small table, her eyes locking on mine. “You didn’t answer my question,”
she said, her voice light, playful, but with an undercurrent of challenge.
“What question?”
“Do you plan to behave?”
I closed the space between us in two strides, my hands finding her waist and pulling her flush against me. “Not a chance.”
Her smile melted into a gasp as I kissed her again, her hands sliding up to grip my shoulders. This time, it wasn’t just desperation—it was intention, a slow burn that threatened to consume us both.
She started tugging my shirt up and over my shoulders, taking it off and tossing it to the floor. Her hands touched my skin, tracing the muscles in my arms. She gripped like she feared letting go. I felt the need. The urgency. Her body called to mine. It sounded like the sweet and alluring song of a siren. I couldn’t convince myself that she wasn’t exactly what I wanted; she was.
She sat on the edge of the bed as I kneeled. My pants were unzipped, but still on and she was wearing a sky blue dress with the straps already off her shoulders. I pushed her her the bottom of the skirt up to her hips. She leaned back on her elbows, already making an irresistible noise of pleasure that drove me crazy. Her soft moan hummed in my ears as I ran my hands up her legs to grab the sides of her panties, slowly pulling them down. She arched her hips trying to close the gap between us, but the slow tease was part of the build. I pulled her panties off and folded them into my left hand—holding them. I moved between her legs and kissed my way to her center. She pulsed with heat. With want. I gently bit the inside of her left thigh and she gasped a whine, followed by name.
“Luca, please,”
she begged me. I loved hearing my name as she demanded more.
I eased my nip and recalled a story where I’d heard a man call a woman’s sweet spot “the devil’s doorbell.”
As my mouth wrapped around hers, I sucked just hard enough to make Charlie flex her hips and push herself into my mouth. I knew I wanted more—to I taste her over and over. If this was Hell, I’d gladly stay forever.
The world outside the room ceased to exist. There was only her, the way she fit against me, the heat of her skin, and the unspoken promise in every touch.
The room was still, the only sound the soft, rhythmic rise and fall of Charlie’s breath. The moonlight filtered through the thin curtains, casting a pale glow across her face. She looked so peaceful, her guard completely down in a way I rarely got to see. I wanted to stay, to sink into this moment and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist.
But it did.
I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling quietly as I sat on the edge of the bed. Even at thirty-something, my mother’s expectations were crystal clear. If I wasn’t there in the morning, she’d know why—and she’d never let me hear the end of it. I was still expected to behave in a specific way, especially crossing the line from business to pleasure.
Still, leaving now felt wrong. It wasn’t what I wanted, and it definitely wasn’t what Charlie deserved. After Paris, I’d promised myself I wouldn’t be that guy—the one who disappears into the night without so much as a goodbye. But we hadn’t talked about this, hadn’t defined the boundaries of whatever this was. Staying could mean one thing; leaving could mean another.
And maybe that’s what scared me.
I glanced back at her, the sheet draped lazily over her bare shoulder. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake, her face soft and serene. Part of me wanted to wake her, to explain, to say something that might make this feel less… unfinished. But what would I even say?
Instead, I leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. She sighed in her sleep, her body shifting closer to where I’d been lying. The ache in my chest caught me off guard, but I pushed it aside.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,”
I whispered, though I wasn’t sure if I was saying it for her or myself.
I stood, quietly gathering my clothes, trying not to disturb the fragile peace of the room. By the time I slipped out the door and into the cool night air, the guilt was already settling in.
As I walked down the quiet streets to head home, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was leaving something behind. Something important.
And for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t sure if I was making the right choice.