Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
JEMMA
How is everything going to be fine when she keeps calling?
Once again, he declines the call, the screen darkening as he slips the device into the pocket of his black jacket. His stance turns rigid as I let my arm fall from his, the cool winter air seeming heavier now.
Part of me wants to scream, “Who is Colette?” But another part of me doesn’t want to rock my unstable boat.
I have a good thing going here with Luca, and I don’t want to ruin it by being nosy.
It’s none of my business how he conducts himself with the people around him.
Plus, I just met him, so he owes me no explanation.
He’s a big boy. He can make his own decisions, but I feel like I’m doing something wrong by staying in his home, having lunch with his family, and . . . falling for him.
Am I being totally crazy?
I leave right after Christmas—or sooner—so is it even worth asking the questions that are searing a hole in my mind? I need to accept what this is: a man being kind to a down-and-out tourist during Christmas.
But I did feel sparks between us. I’m not imagining that. I’m not crazy. And I can’t ignore the fact that I’m falling for him—hard.
How can I have such strong feelings for someone I just met?
I’ve never felt like this in my entire life.
There’s something about this man that I crave like an addiction.
I know I could easily walk away and into one of the many hotels behind us and hope something opens up, or I could book a flight back home, but I physically can’t.
My feet won’t allow it. I need to see whatever this is through to the very end.
My eyes slowly wander to Luca, and for the first time, I see something that I haven’t before—a sadness—a pain behind his frosty blue eyes. Something in my heart tells me Colette is to blame.
I part my mouth, unsure of the words that need to come out, but Luca beats me to it.
“We’re here,” he announces softly, stopping in front of a building with a creamy stone facade and vibrant blue double doors.
He pauses, staring straight ahead, his eyes pinned on a massive, ornate metal knocker adorning one of the doors. “Sorry if I’ve seemed a bit distracted at times. I have a lot on my mind these days.”
“The reason you had to be on that flight?” I softly question, my gaze dropping to my feet.
He nods. “Jemma,” his voice hitches.
This is it. He’s going to tell me he made a mistake and that I should go.
My heart crumbles.
He clears his throat. “I know we just met, but I was wondering”—he rubs the back of his neck, moving his gaze to mine—“if you’d like to be my guest until you leave at the end of the month. I have plenty of space and a spare key, so you could come and go as you please.”
My mouth drops.
It’s everything I’ve been wanting, but one question lingers: am I only a distraction?
“Yes,” the word tumbles out of my mouth. “I’d love to stay. I could pay you. Although, it wouldn’t be much.”
“Nonsense. It would be my pleasure to host you.”
A crack of a smile simmers at the corner of my mouth. “You have no idea how much I appreciate this. Are you sure I won’t be in your way?”
“Absolutely not. To be honest, I could use the company. It will be a nice distraction having a roommate around.”
Distraction. Roommate.
There it is. I’m a distraction from whatever is going on in his life. But I can’t look a gift horse in the mouth. I need this. So, I guess we’re both kind of using each other then. I don’t know what kind of mess I’m getting myself into, but I’m willing to go with the flow if that means I can stay.