Ice cream
Chapter 64
Sophia
"I still can't believe you didn't tell me," James protests, his eyes dropping to my hand as we navigate the lunchroom chaos.
"It was a last-minute call," I murmur, trying to defuse his anxiety.
He just shakes his head, lowering his voice to a harsh whisper. "The police are practically living at the gates. You know that, right?" He glances at Maria, his jaw tight. "Don't be jealous. Next time, you're coming with."
"No." The word leaves my lips too fast, too sharp. James flinches slightly, and I soften my tone. "No. Because there isn't going to be a next time." At least, that is the lie I am telling myself.
I swallow a sip of ice water, watching Maria aggressively wave a tiny plastic fan in front of her face. "It's too hot to exist today," she whines, dabbing at her melting makeup.
A sudden shift ripples through the cafeteria.
"Woah, look outside."
"Is that... finally?"
"Thank God, anything is better than the cafeteria sludge."
Heads turn in unison. The low hum of gossip spikes into an excited roar as students surge toward the massive glass windows.
"What is going on?" I ask, but neither James nor Maria answers. They are already moving.
We elbow our way through the crush of bodies, pressing against the glass to look down into the courtyard.
A massive, pristine ice cream truck is idling on the gravel. I blink, utterly stunned. It isn't just the truck,it's the boys climbing out of it. Lorenzo leads the pack, followed by Ben, Alex, and Matteo. They look absurdly pleased with themselves, wearing smug, untouchable grins.
"Tell me I'm dreaming," Maria breathes next to me.
Down below, Lorenzo hoists a megaphone to his lips.
"To make it official!" his voice booms, rattling the windowpanes.
He scans the rows of windows, his dark eyes cutting through the glare until they lock dead onto mine.
"I'm sorry!" he yells, throwing his free hand out toward the truck.
On cue, the driver opens the side door. Ben, Alex, and Matteo immediately grab towering cones, grinning like idiots. "Free ice cream for everyone!"
The cafeteria erupts. The crowd surges toward the exits, sweeping James and Maria away with them.
But I stay frozen in the middle of the stampede.
A fierce, involuntary blush burns up my neck, but beneath the embarrassment is a sudden, breathtaking wave of joy.
Watching his tall frame move toward the building, I finally break out of my trance and head downstairs.
"You rented an entire ice cream truck for the school?" I ask as I step into the heat, a helpless smile breaking across my face. He looks entirely different out here in the sun.
"No." Lorenzo closes the distance between us, his fingers sliding into mine, warm and unyielding. "I bought you an ice cream truck."
My lungs lock up.
He bought me a truck?
I look past his shoulder. The courtyard is completely transformed. For the very first time, I don't see a crowd of hyper-privileged, arrogant Westar students, I just see regular students. Teenagers who are genuinely thrilled to escape the luxury school food for a bit of sugar.
"And I bought you this." He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a long, awkwardly wrapped object. I narrow my eyes at the terrible wrapping job.
"Did you seriously wrap a stick for me?"
A rich, genuine laugh breaks from him. "Open it."
I tear the paper away, and my chest thumps. I don't care who is watching. I step into his space and throw my arms around his neck, hugging him tight. "Thank you," I whisper against his skin, staring down at the pencil in my hand.
"It's the exact same one," he says softly, a hint of pride bleeding into his tone as he points to the faded smiley face on the wood.
"What?"
"Nothing. I'm just stunned that the infamous Lorenzo Calloway suddenly has a..." I pause, letting my eyes dance with mischief, "...soft side."
His smirk falters, a flash of playful annoyance crossing his features. He clearly hates the word. "I'm not soft," he growls lightly, tugging me along as he guides me into the ice cream line.
He ignores the dozens of eyes burning holes into our backs, his focus entirely, completely consuming me.
"I just figured after last night, things needed to cool down."And lokks at my hand "how is yiur hand "
"It's fine "I watch him Lok at me fir a few secunde "im sireous im fine "I smil he's thes one who's jump form a build and he is worig sbout my hand ?the guy how Constantly mentions that he cares about nothing .
A breathless silence settles over the table after we finish eating . Before I can even formulate a retort, Lorenzo drops a black titanium card onto the silver tray, pays the bill without looking at it, and stands up.
He doesn't ask. He just takes my hand and leads me away from the dining room, straight toward the private elevators.
The doors slide open to the penthouse suite, and my breath catches. It is a masterpiece of modern wealth. Floor to ceiling glass looks out over the entire glowing metropolis. There are white marble floors, brushed gold accents, and a massive king sized bed wrapped in dark silk sheets.
This is by far the most luxurious hotel suite I've ever seen. Not that I've seen many.
Lorenzo tosses the key card onto the entrance table and simply watches me admire the rooms.
"You like it?" he asks after a moment, his gaze heavy on me.
"It's beautiful," I smile, catching sight of the glass doors leading out to the terrace. I step outside, a soft gasp escaping my lips. "Wow."
The city looks incredible from up here. The breeze from the ocean hits my face, contrasting with the brilliant, warm lights of the skyscrapers below.
I don't even have to turn around to feel his presence behind me.
His warmth radiates against my back. "It's amazing," I whisper, still staring at the skyline.
"What are you doing to me, Sophia Miller?" he whispers and places a hand on my hip, slowly turning me around to face him.
"The question is, what are you doing to me?" I tease back. I step up on my toes, placing a gentle, fleeting kiss on his mouth.
His eyes darken, his grip tightening on my hip. "If it were up to me, I'd throw that key card off the terrace right now and lock you in here with me."
His words vibrate straight down to my core. But I refuse to give myself away too easily. "Don't tell me the great Lorenzo Calloway can't survive a single night without sex."
I watch his eyes flare with a sudden, dangerous hunger. "Are you telling me to leave?"
The exact second our lips are about to meet again, he unexpectedly steps back. He retreats into the room, a challenge in his stride.
He isn't really leaving, is he? He's testing me.
My heart drops into my stomach as I watch him walk over to the entrance, pick up the key card, and actually open the suite door.
"That was a joke," I say before I can stop myself, the panic evident in my voice.
Lorenzo freezes. He turns back to me, a slow, arrogant, knowing smile spreading across his handsome face. He knew exactly what he was doing. The teasing is over, replaced by pure, unadulterated hunger in his eyes.
He closes the distance between us in two strides, capturing my mouth in a bruising, desperate kiss.
And I kiss him back with everything I have.
This man can kiss.
But he doesn't stop at the bed.
He pulls me straight into the open concept bathroom. The shower is a massive oasis of black slate and rainfall showerheads. Our hands are suddenly everywhere undoing zippers, shedding clothes, his touch burning hot against my skin in the cool air of the suite.
And I let him.
Because despite everything I feel safe.
He turns the valve, and steam immediately fills the glass enclosure, warm water cascading down over us, soaking his dark hair and framing his muscular body.
I just watch him. His body looks like a painting, every single muscle perfectly sculpted, gleaming under the bathroom lights.
"Love what you see, Stalker?" he grins, his dark eyes pulling me back to reality.
"It's okay. Nothing special," I tease back, trying to keep my voice steady despite the way my heart thumps.
A dangerous smirk flashes across his face. And I gasp as his arms wrap around me lifting me up effortlessly, pinning my back against the smooth, wet marble wall of the shower.
"Say that again," he whispers dangerously.
The contrast of the cool stone against the scalding water and the sheer heat of his body makes my head spin. I wrap my arms around his neck, burying my fingers in his wet hair as his mouth finds mine an intense, desperate, and entirely consuming kiss that leaves me breathless.
I arch harder against him, desperate to feel more.
"Say it," he demands again, his voice a low rumble near my ear, challenging me to keep up the act when, in reality, my core is throbbing.
Every moment feels like pure luxury, dangerous and intoxicating. The world and the reality outside the glass door disappears, leaving only the two of us in the steam.
"I was..." I start, but the words catch in my throat as he pulls me closer, thrusting inside of me with no warning. His presence overwhelms every single sense I have. The playful teasing from moments ago has vanished, replaced by an undeniable, magnetic pull that I can no longer resist.
And I moun out baiting my lip.
"That's what I thought," he murmurs against my skin and pushes in harder, making me scream out his name. My whole body is burning and shaking. It's a hungry, demanding pace, giving me hardly any time to breathe.
"LORENZO!"
Lorenzo moves with a possessive grace that makes the rest of the world fade away.
"You are so pretty, Sophia," he whispers, slightly out of breath. "And you are right."
He starts to move again, and I let out a deep breath as he pushes himself even deeper. "About what?" I gasp.
"About not having sex for a day," he murmurs, catching my lips in a fierce kiss. "From now on, hearing you scream my name is going to be my favorite thing, Stalker.And I wanna hear it every night"
There is a raw, powerful rhythm to the moment that strips away my defenses, until everything narrows down to the sound of the rushing water and the heavy, ragged sound of our breathing and colliding bodies.
"Oh my god, Lorenzo," I whisper, closing my eyes as the water pours over us, the intensity of the moment reaching a fever pitch.
He holds me firmly, his touch grounding me even as the world seems to tilt on its axis. In that moment of complete surrender, a wave of emotion and sensation crashes over me, leaving me shaking in his arms as the water continues to fall.
But he doesn't stop moving, his grip on my waist tightening as he buries his face in the crook of my neck .He takes a deep, ragged breath, his voice a low, gravelly growl over the sound of the water.
"The gala, Stalker," he murmurs, his chest heaving against mine as he delivers one last, devastating push that makes my toes curl. "Tell me you're going with me."
I can barely breathe, my muscles trembling with sheer exhaustion and pleasure. I look up through the water droplets, my eyes dazed as I meet his dark, burning gaze.
A smirk, a slow, devastatingly handsome smile breaking across his face as he watches my undoing.
"Is that a yes or a no?"
I try to speak, but my voice is gone. Weak and utterly spent, I just let out a soft, breathless laugh and nod my head against his shoulder, letting him hold my weight.
"Good," he whispers against my lips, kissing me with a slow, possessive sweetness that melts whatever is left of my mind.
"Because I already bought the dress."
Fifteen minutes later, we're lying in the enormous bed, the comforter pulled up around us. The room is quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the sound of our breathing.
I stare at the ceiling, my body heavy with exhaustion, but sleep refuses to come.
"Can I ask you something?" I whisper turning to face him.
Watchug him turn onto his side as well, resting his head on his arm as he looks at me. "Anything."
I hesitate, suddenly afraid of the answer.
"Is this..." My voice catches. "Am I just a temporary thing to you?"
The words hang between us.
For a second, he doesn't speak. He simply watches me, his expression softening in a way I've never seen before. Then he shifts closer until his hand brushes against my hair.
"No," he says quietly.I search his face for hesitation, for doubt, for anything that might tell me he's lying.
But there's none.
"Sophia," he murmurs, his fingers sliding gently through my hair, "whatever this is... whatever we have... I've never felt anything like it before."he admits.
His voice is rough, almost vulnerable.
"I'm used to a lot of things," he continues, "but not this. Not you." He lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "And the truth is... I love this feeling. I don't want it to end."
A smile tugs at my lips before I can stop it.
"But why won't you tell me about Santos?" I ask softly. "Or what you really do?"
The smile fades from his face making me regret that I ask but it's to later now so I push a bit further.
"I know you're not calling your mother when you leave the room," I continue. "And I know whatever you're trying to achieve with the racing and everything else... it isn't because you're bored or because you need the money."
His jaw tightens and for a long moment, he says absolutely nothing.
Finally, he pulls me against his chest, wrapping his arms around me as if he's afraid I might disappear.
"I'll tell you," he whispers. "I promise I will."
I tilt my head back to look at him.
"But I need to sort a few things out first. Just... trust me a little longer, okay?"and presses a kiss to my forehead.
"Okay," I whisper slightly disappointed that he seems not to trust me. But I'm too tired to argue.
Too tired to keep fighting for answers that he isn't ready to give.
His arms tighten around me, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I let myself stop thinking.
And fall asleep in his arms.
Smiling