Chapter 28
Twenty-Eight
I peek around Mark to Lucca across this long table and two seats down.
There are people sitting everywhere—on the living room couch, the kitchen bar, out on the deck, even.
And yet, I somehow got seated at this long dining table with Lucca, Mark, and a handful of Red Tails.
I peek at the man who’s been texting me every night since he stole my number from Callum.
And he is peeking back. Though Lucca doesn’t try to hide anything. He grins and waves. Mark follows my gaze, then lifts a hand to wave back at Lucca, and that Brazilian scowls.
What’s his problem?
I get why he didn’t like Reggie, but Mark is perfectly respectable. We’ve been friends forever. He is the ideal pick for a last-minute date—and that’s what I needed.
“I don’t think your soccer friend likes me,” Mark says, leaning his head toward mine.
“That’s ridiculous,” I lie. “He doesn’t even know you.”
“And yet,” Mark says, wrapping one arm around the back of my chair, then peering back at Lucca, “I’m pretty sure he loathes me.”
“Well,” I say, looking at Lucca, who studies us. “He’s kind of an idiot. Don’t worry about it.”
“Mel,” Lucca suddenly calls down this long table.
“It’s Mark,” I snap. Other Red Tails glance Lucca’s way, then ours. But I had to say something. He’s being rude for absolutely no reason.
But Lucca keeps going as if I haven’t said a word. “Have you met Kaylee?” He motions to the woman next to him.
The woman holds her hand across this table, grabbing the attention of everyone else seated here.
I cinch my brows. I met her earlier, when we first walked in and Callum welcomed us. “You mean Mailey?” I say. She didn’t even bother correcting him. Women really do lose all self-control at the feet of Lucca Cruz.
But Lucca holds his gaze on Mel—err, Mark. “She’s lovely,” he says, flicking a glance my way.
How lovely can she be? He can’t even get her name right.
“You should really get to know her,” he tells Mark. “She’s probably perfect for you.”
Mailey smiles.
“Isn’t she your date?” I say. This man is utterly confusing.
Stella, at my right, groans. “Oh boy.”
Across from us, Rosalie hasn’t missed a word. “Let me guess, you met her yesterday?”
Mailey giggles. “At the grocery store.”
“You said you had a date three days ago,” I say.
Lucca gives a one-shoulder shrug. “Mitch, you really should chat with Mailey. I think it could be lucrative for both of you.”
“Lucrative?” Mark says. He blinks, giving me one bemused glance.
I puff out my cheeks and shrug. It’s a silent action that says, I have no idea what’s happening.
“Lucca,” Stella grunts. “Stop.”
“I’m helping,” Lucca says. “It’s not as if this”—he points from me to Mark—“is going anywhere.”
I scoff and push myself back from the table. But I get to my feet too quickly, and my knees knock into the table as I go. “Excuse me a minute.” I look down at Mark. “Are you okay to stay?”
“I am very entertained. Take your time.”
I swallow, my pulse racing and my heart pattering. I just need to think. To breathe. I head back down the same hall from before, the only quiet space in this full house, and charge straight for the bathroom.
I wasn’t sure about coming to another event where Red Tails would be present. I like Fran and her friends—but I’ve been unsure if it’s a wise work choice. Lucca is making it clear that I should have stayed home.
I push the door open and step inside the small half bath—just a toilet and a sink, and not another soul in sight. Alone.
Or at least, I hoped to be. As I swing the door shut, a shoe plants itself right in the doorjamb, blocking the door from closing. I scan up to dark jeans, a tan button-up, and Lucca’s jaw, lips, nose, and eyes. My stomach flips, and I breathe in musk and man.
I clench my jaw. “What are you doing?”
“You ran off,” he says, stepping toward me and forcing me back. He shuts the door behind him. It’s tight in this half bath—Lucca isn’t a small man. The back of my legs press against the bowl of the toilet, and Lucca might as well be sitting on the sink.
“Yeah, well, I needed a minute away from your craziness.”
“I was being polite to your friend.”
“My date.” I shake my head, wishing there was room to pace in here. “You were introducing my date to your date and telling them together they might be lucrative? What does that even mean? Do you hear yourself?”
“So? It was polite.”
“It was the exact opposite of polite!” I cross my arms and attempt to back up, but there isn’t anywhere for me to go. I am exactly three inches away from Lucca, with nowhere to run. “Is this how it’s going to be? I thought we were past all the hate.”
“Hate?” He has the nerve to look truly taken aback. He inches toward me. He’s now one inch away, and my neck is craning to peer up at him. “What do you mean, hate?”
“I mean”—I attempt to lean back, but my legs are locked up against this toilet—“you coming here and treating my date like trash for no good reason.”
“You don’t actually like him.” He says it like a fact, and that, more than anything, ticks me off.
“Don’t tell me who I like.”
Lucca leans a millimeter closer, and the back of my legs bend, dipping so that I almost fall to a seat on the lid of this toilet, but he wraps one arm around my back, catching me before I can plop to my bottom.
He pulls me upright, his right arm locked around me. With his head dipped toward mine, his nose skiffs the edge of my jaw. “You don’t like him—not romantically,” he whispers this time.
I swallow, my pulse drumming in my ears. “No. I don’t,” I whisper. The words just slip out. I never intended to say as much.
With the smallest twist of his head, Lucca’s warm, sweet breath wafts over my lips and chin. I’m a statue, too afraid to move, too afraid I’ll wake up from this hallucination.
I feel the pressure as his fingers ball into my shirt at my back. His eyes, dark and rich, lock with mine. He hugs me tight to his side, and then he closes that tiny gap between us, covering my lips with his.
His lips, gentle and alluring, move over mine. I lose my head with the tenderness of a kiss I never saw coming. He tastes like cookies, and his lips feel like a caress, like a warm current, like a song.
Holy mother of Moses, this man can kiss.
And—
“Whoa,” I bark, pushing back on his chest and falling to the lid of the toilet. My breaths are hitched and heavy, and my head is light.
“Maggie?”
I hold one hand out in a ‘stop’ sign toward him, forcing him to back up until he hits the door. “I need to catch my breath,” I wheeze. The room spins, and I shut my eyes.
He leans against the closed door, crossing his arms. “I know I’m good, but—”
“Shut up,” I say, bending over and placing my head between my knees. I pull in air through my nose, trying to calm my heart, trying to catch my breath. Bent over, I wave a hand in front of my face, fanning myself.
And then—black hair, cocoa eyes, and pink lips poke into my view. “Do you need a drink? I have this effect sometimes.”
With two fingers on his forehead, I push his head out of my view and breathe, my head still between my knees. “No. You are not having an effect on me—”
“It seems like I might be.”
I fling my head upward. “You’re not!” But it’s a bad idea; I’m immediately dizzy. The room is spinning. I might fall right off this toilet seat. So, I reach out a hand and steady myself using Lucca.
I shut my eyes, and when I open them back up, he’s squatting in front of me.
“Here,” he says, taking one of my hands and placing it on his shoulder. Then he does the same with the other. “Close your eyes and take a deep breath. In through the nose. Out through the mouth.”
Sure, I’d like to slug him, but I’m working on not passing out at the moment. So, I pull in a breath through my nose and exhale through my mouth, all on Lucca’s command.
“That’s it,” he says, his tone soft, his accent sweet.
When it seems that I can breathe all on my own, I open my eyes. He’s still squatting, I’m still holding onto him. With my head a little clearer, I ask, “Why did you do that?”
His brow furrows, and he looks at me as if I’m speaking another language, one he doesn’t speak. Lucca has the gall to not understand what I’m referring to.
I flick his right shoulder, right where I’m holding myself up. “Kiss me, Lucca. Why would you do that? You act like an idiot over Mark, and then you kiss me? In a bathroom, of all places!”
“It isn’t obvious?” he says, the back of his hand brushing over the apple of my cheek. “I adore you, Maggie. I’m not sure I realized it myself until tonight. But I like you. And honestly, I’m pretty sure you like me, too.”
“Don’t tell me who I like,” I grumble, smacking his shoulder again. “Besides, you don’t like me. You’re just infatuated because I am the first woman not to fall for your antics.”
“I don’t have antics.”
“You do,” I say.
“I have charm.”
“Same thing,” I growl, my heart rate picking back up. I’m afraid I’ll have to put my head between my knees again.
“While that is a very interesting theory,” he says, “that’s not it.
This isn’t a game I’m trying to win. I’m feeling things I’ve never felt before.
I don’t even see other women now.” He shakes his head, a low laugh in his belly.
“It’s crazy.” His fingers caress my cheek once more. “Margaret McCrae, I adore you.”
I smack his hand. “Stop saying that. You—you are confused. This whole thing is—”
“Delightful?”
“A mistake.” I shake my head.
His smile falters, and his jaw tightens with my words.
But I’m not finished. “You can’t like me because it is against every rule in the book for a player and an official to have feelings for one another.
You and I being friends is pushing it. You—” I swallow, stand, and push past him, drowning in musk and pine as I go.
“You cannot like me. You don’t like me. The end. ”
“But I do,” he says, pausing my escape. “I realize it now, and there’s no taking it back.”
“Are you trying to get me fired?” I hiss, my hand on the doorknob. “Is that what this is?”
“Of course not.” He reaches out a hand, and I block him with a swat, just like a ninja. Lucca Cruz isn’t the only one here with skills.
“Well, if that’s the truth, then you need to lose those feelings quick. And we aren’t talking about this anymore. Got it? You never kissed me—”
“You kissed me back,” he says with a grin that I’d really like to slap off that handsome face of his.
“I didn’t. And this conversation never happened.” I charge back out to the party to find my very nice, very sweet, very much a date Mark, who has never once set my heart racing like Lucca Cruz.