Chapter 28
Luca
Explore the world by night—some quests only show up at certain times of the day.
Lara lets out a little noise of surprise as my lips meet hers, but then she digs her fingers into the back of my shirt, pulling me closer.
This kiss is different from our last one.
Fiercer, hungrier. Her lips are incredibly soft, and they open, just like my own.
I bury one hand in her hair; the other rests on her waist. Time, and everything else, loses all its meaning.
For the first time in years, there’s no weight on my shoulders, no fear running in circles inside my head.
The racing thoughts that I do have are useless, the thought that I should be staying away from Lara, that I just came here to talk—but who am I kidding?
That was a lie from the start. Just talking doesn’t feel this light, this familiar.
Just talking wouldn’t send my heart racing, and just talking is definitely not what we’re doing right now.
I cup Lara’s face in both my hands, getting lost in her in the best possible way.
I’m overcome by her summery scent, and as our tongues touch, a shiver runs through my entire body, settling in the pit of my stomach.
Against my chest, I can sense her breath quickening, and I pull her closer.
Seconds turn into minutes, and time stops.
As we break apart, breathless, after goodness knows how long, I notice that her left sleeve has slipped, exposing the scars she normally hides so carefully.
It’s not that I notice them because they’ve caught my eye; it’s because her gaze immediately flicks down to her arms, controlling, checking.
I can see her swallow, but she doesn’t tug on her jumper like she normally does to cover her skin, letting me reach for her hands instead and interlace our fingers.
Her gaze meets my own, and a flash of heat travels down the length of my body. Her gaze is so intense, so familiar.
I’ve always divided up my life into Before and After, and now, for the first time, I imagine that there might be several Befores and Afters. That this right here is one of those monumental moments that is going to rearrange my life along a new timeline—mine, and maybe hers too.
Still holding my hands, Lara pulls me in again, covering my lips with hers, gentler this time. Our breath mingles as I draw patterns on her skin with my thumb—only to jump violently a second later as a loud bang echoes throughout the hall.
My heart starts to race immediately. I spend a moment fighting back the rising panic until I realize it was just a door closing.
I can hear the sound of footfalls followed by quiet voices, growing louder with each passing second.
Lara backs away from me in a hurry. The sudden cold sensation on my palms and the rumpled blanket beneath us are the only clues as to what we were just doing.
“Well, to a successful trade fair!” There comes the clink of two glasses.
“That’s Shane,” Lara whispers, barely audible.
“Cheers.”
Hank’s low voice. Brilliant.
“We need to get out of here,” Lara whispers, jumping up and haphazardly smoothing out the wrinkles in the blanket.
Then she tiptoes over to the exit of the booth, turning back to look at me.
“Luca,” she mouths at me, and I finally unfreeze from my trance.
I get to my feet and join her as quietly as I can.
“He mustn’t catch us here. I can already see the next TikTok. ”
Lara’s eyes are wide, and her panic isn’t exactly helped by the fact that Hank, Shane, and his boss appear in a gap between two of the booths a moment later, stopping just a few feet short of us.
If only she knew that Shane isn’t our only problem.
I can’t bear to think of what Hank would say if he caught me here with Lara—the woman from the studio I should be staying away from, as he sees it.
I hear a low whistle and a few complimentary words about our booth, which would have made me happy, normally. But now, I scan my surroundings like I’m in a video game, searching for an enemy-free path to safety.
“Let’s sneak over to the exit around the back and past the streaming area,” I whisper.
I reach for Lara’s hand, tugging her along with me.
Fortunately, as usual, Hank’s voice is thunderous—enough to mask our footsteps in the otherwise empty hall.
But my heart is beating so loud that I feel like he must be able to hear it.
We leave our competitors’ booths behind, running past the big publishers and the stage, and we finally make it out of the room unseen.
I shut the door behind me as silently as I can. One, then two seconds pass as we stand mutely in the—fortunately—empty hallway. Lara is the first to speak.
“Oh, God.” She shakes her head, and then her eyes meet mine. “If Shane had caught us . . .” She glances back over her shoulder like he could come bursting out at any minute, and then she starts moving.
“I can’t stand that tosser,” I reply, following her up the steps.
“No one can. Well, I’m sure his mum loves him,” Lara points out.
I shake my head. “Nah, not even her,” I say with a straight expression that slips as Lara’s laughter echoes through the long hallway.
With a glance at the rooms we’re jogging past, she claps a hand to her mouth, stifling her laughter.
I love the sound, and what I love even more is that I’m the one who made her laugh.
“This reminds me of the game we played with the TikTok comments section,” she says, pushing open a door leading into another corridor. I hope she knows where we’re going, because I would get so lost in these hallways on my own.
“True, but I don’t need to make up anything about Shane. I honestly don’t think there’s a single person on this planet he doesn’t rub the wrong way. And no prize for guessing who his next-door booth neighbor is.”
Lara grimaces. “Oh, you’re joking,” she says slowly.
“I’m afraid not. I suspect that’s why Hank was giving them the tour. Just my luck, eh?”
She pats my shoulder in sympathy. Heat radiates out from the spot where she touched me, and it fills my entire body. There’s nothing I’d rather do than reach for her hand again. Instead, I make a fist. I should know better, after we almost got caught.
“My room.” Lara stops and turns around to face me. “It’s actually dry this time.”
“Posh.”
The corners of her mouth twitch, and for a moment, we stand there facing each other, waiting.
Lara chews at her lower lip, and if she doesn’t stop that soon, I won’t give a damn whether anyone sees us or not.
She’s so close that I can make out the individual hairs of her long, black eyelashes.
I catch myself raising a hand to her temple, brushing a stray lock of dark hair from her face.
She leans into my touch, but then she closes her eyes, shaking her head. “We really should be careful, I . . . Shane has it in for me already; I don’t want to give him any more material for his TikTok.”
“I mean . . . One word from you, and he gets kicked out of the competition. One less competitor. What he did was a clear breach of the rules. He’d deserve it, and it would be my pleasure to let Elsa know.”
“I know, but I also know what would happen next: He’d whine around for weeks that the only reason he didn’t win was because I snitched on him. I’d rather beat him fair and square, no excuses.”
“Understandable,” I say with a chuckle, because there’s no doubt in my mind that Lara is going to beat him. “And it would definitely be a bigger bruise to his ego.”
“Yeah. But still . . .” Her gaze turns serious, and the flash of amusement in her eyes disappears. “If anyone catches us, I’d be the one taking the hit, not you.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” I reply, though I hate to admit it. I’ve been in the industry for long enough to know it’s true. “But hey,” I say, and yet another shiver runs up and down my body as she looks up at me. “What are a few days, anyway?”
“Or a few weeks. Once I happily carry my prize money home, you’re going to need some time to recover.
” It’s an attempt at encouragement, a tired joke to lighten up the mood.
But at the same time, it brings home the fact that, first and foremost, we’re competitors.
And only one of us can win. Lara seems to come to the realization the same moment I do, because a frown makes the corners of her mouth droop, and she holds her card up against the door.
It swings open with a quiet whirring sound.
“Well, then . . .” She turns back and gives me an awkward little wave. “Goodnight.”
“Sleep well,” I reply, and as she pulls the door closed behind her, my gaze rests for a moment on the fine wood grain.
The realization starts to sink in of how close a call we just had.
I really am in deep. I consider calling Maleek for a moment, but he’s probably still on his date.
An uncomplicated date without secrets. I sigh and rub the bridge of my nose, where a throbbing headache is starting up.
I should get to bed too, though there’s no chance of getting any sleep.
My room is in another hallway, and with all these winding corridors, I have no idea how to get there, so I decide to retrace my steps instead.
I’ve just reached the foot of the stairs and look up—straight into Hank’s gray eyes.
He’s sitting on the sofa in the lobby. By himself. Like he’s waiting for someone.
“Luca.”
His voice sounds matter-of-fact, but there’s a sly undertone to it, and as I come closer and see his serious expression, I realize who he was waiting for: me. All that sneaking around for nothing. He saw us.
“Do you have a moment?”
I nod and drop down on the sofa next to him.
“I’ll get straight to the point, because I’m sure you’re about as tired as I am, what with the last few days.
” He clears his throat and rests his elbows on his thighs.
His voice grows quieter as he goes on, even though the reception area is empty and Louise has packed up for the day.
Noises from the lounge drift over to us, but the babble of voices has already quieted down.
Most people are probably in their rooms by now.
“When I talked to you about Ms. Richards and PixelPulse, I did so in confidence, and in hopes of saving you from making the same mistakes.”
I nod and try not to let him sense how each new word drops another brick into the pit of my stomach. I haven’t just disappointed him; in a way, I’ve betrayed him. I should’ve listened to Maleek.
“I’d like to believe you ran into Lara Anderson by accident when you went back to check out our booth. But Shane told me you got along very well in the prelims.”
How I hate that tosser. To my surprise, my expression makes Hank chuckle.
“He’s a gossip, that one. Normally, I don’t care much for what he says. A load of hot air, that’s men like him. But he’s right though, isn’t he?”
“We did get along well; I didn’t realize she was with PixelPulse. I was on the lookout for Sophia then, but she wasn’t there for the prelims.”
“Yeah, she probably expected me to be there and wanted to avoid a confrontation.” Hank’s expression turns serious again.
All friendliness disappears from his eyes, and I shiver, though I know his animosity isn’t directed at me.
“But now Sophia is here. She can’t worm her way out of this one.
And I don’t plan on letting her win. I’m telling you this again because it’s important: Stay away from that studio.
Not just to protect your game, but for yourself too.
You’re competitors. That’s bound to be trouble.
And besides, you’re responsible not just for yourself, but for Maleek as well.
You’re representing Bytes I’m well aware of the risk.
From the outside, the decision seems so obvious, so simple.
But inside me, that’s another story. It’s like Minesweeper, the game I used to play on my dad’s PC: There are rules, and I know them in theory, but in practice I’m at constant risk of blowing myself up with a single misstep.
“I’m sorry.”
Hank sighs, and for a moment, I think I see a flash of something resembling pity in his eyes. “I know you mean well, Luca. But we are going to win. And even if we don’t, I’m going to make sure it won’t be Sophia taking home that award with a stolen game. Am I making myself clear?”
I nod, though I feel sick to my stomach.
I know we have to win. For Desolate Dread, for Maleek, for myself and my future.
But now, I also know how much of her heart and soul Lara has poured into Novel Haven.
She’s shown me a part of that soul, so how can I go on doing what I’m doing in good conscience?
She can’t afford to lose any more than we can.
Sophia Richards’s reaction, her ashen face, was proof enough: She stole Hank’s game. But why should Lara have to pay for Sophia’s mistakes?
“Chin up,” Hank says and slaps my shoulder. “There’s plenty of fish in the sea.”
He laughs quietly at his own quip. I don’t join in, but I give him a silent nod. Though he was the one speaking, his words leave a bitter taste in my mouth. There are countless women out there, of course—but none of them is like Lara. And she doesn’t deserve any of this.