Chapter 20 - Luca
Ibathed her, made love to her again, and then made us dinner.
Emma’s sitting on the couch, eating fried rice out of a bowl—Ana María makes it every Friday. The TV’s on; we picked a movie together, but neither of us is actually watching it.
We’re just talking.
I want to know what happened in her life after we went our separate ways. I want to know every minute I missed and make up for all the time we lost.
“Honestly,” I say, “I think you can make your art and work at the same time.”
Emma answers mid-bite, holding the spoon because she says she never learned how to eat with chopsticks. “I’m not good enough, Luke.”
“You are. I saw—”
Shit.
She frowns, catching the slip. “You saw my work?”
I set the bowl and chopsticks on the coffee table and rest my hand on her thigh. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to sound like a stalker. But yeah, I saw your art. It’s incredible.”
Emma locks eyes with me—right eye, then left—and I can see her putting the pieces together. “Gargoth?”
Fuck. “Yeah.”
Emma bolts upright. “You were him?!”
Stay calm, Luca. “Yes, it was me,” I say, looking up at her pissed-off face. “I’m sorry.”
She paces around the other side of the coffee table. “Why are you sorry?”
“Because I wasn’t honest with you when we were talking.”
Her eyes narrow as she puts it all together, mumbling to herself while pacing. “Gar… gargoyle… goth… that’s why the questions… how the hell didn’t I figure that out? God, I’m so stupid.”
Grumpy Emma is damn adorable.
“You go by ‘LoveLamb’ on Instagram, Em. Wasn’t exactly hard to find you.” I stand and walk over to her, taking her hands in mine and letting it all out.
“I was desperate to talk to you. But at the same time, I was furious at myself for wanting that so badly. I hid behind that name… and more than once, I felt jealous of Gargoth. He got to talk to you. Got your attention for more than five minutes. Meanwhile, every minute I spent with you felt like it dragged my wounds back open—and I could tell it did the same to you.” I take a breath, deep enough to fill my chest. “I’m sorry for being such a coward, little lamb. ”
Emma breathes in with me, then says, “I’m sorry I made you think we couldn’t talk like we used to.” She presses her forehead to mine, and I close my eyes, inhaling the scent of her.
The past comes roaring back, stronger than before, and I have to regulate my breathing to hold it all together.
This… need.
“Let’s eat before I rip your clothes off,” I growl, barely holding myself back.
Before sitting down again, she plants a fast, rough kiss on my lips. As she pulls away, I catch her wrist and pull her right back in, kissing her harder, hungrier.
God, I could kiss her for hours. I grip her clothes in my fists, forcing myself not to take her right here on the coffee table. She needs to eat. She needs her strength.
I break the kiss and lead her back to the couch.
This time, we eat in silence while the movie plays, but there’s no awkwardness in it.
These silences were always ours—easy, comfortable.
I steal a glance at her and think: this is the best start to a new year I’ve had in a long damn time.
Emma Green, in my living room, wearing my clothes, barefoot, and mine.
My phone vibrates somewhere in the house, snapping me back to reality. “I’ll go check,” I say, getting up.
The group chat with my brothers has been blowing up since midnight.
Oliver and Killian mostly. Silas is quiet—way too quiet.
I should check in on him. I shoot them a quick Happy New Year text.
From what I skimmed, Killian went to a party in Napa, and Oliver stayed home.
I hate that he does that—never celebrates New Year’s with Property Group or anyone outside his damn ranch crew.
The storm’s still raging outside, and I pray it keeps going just a little longer so I can keep her here with me.
According to the forecast, we’ve got three days of this mess. Social media’s freaking out over the weird weather—everyone’s saying the year can’t possibly start like this.
Everyone but me. I’m smiling.
I sit back down next to her, this time a little closer than before. The movie’s wrapping up. As much as I’m dying to touch her again, I wait. She looks really into the story.
But the second the credits roll, I slip an arm around her waist and pull her onto my lap.
She smiles like she’s been waiting for this moment, too.
I take off her clothes. Drop my pants.
And make her mine all over again.
Emma’s asleep on my chest, her hand resting right over my heart, her bare leg draped across mine, breathing slow and steady.
Outside, the rain taps gently against the windows.
I inhale the scent of her hair, that soft sweetness that always reminded me of something warm and familiar. My whole body relaxes with her weight against me, with her heat, with her.
I never gave a damn about a fat bank account or owning the biggest mansion in Miami Beach. This—this is what I wanted. I wanted her.
My fingertips trace the soft curve of her back, like I did the night of the party. Her skin is still the softest thing I’ve ever touched. Still feels like home.
If the devil himself showed up at the foot of my bed right now and offered me a deal—Emma in exchange for everything I own—I’d sign it in a heartbeat. Like Faust.
Emma shifts and groans a little.
“What is it?” I whisper, brushing the curve of her waist.
“I can hear you thinking,” she murmurs, her voice still thick with sleep.
I smile. “What am I thinking about?” I ask, kissing the crown of her head.
“Us.” Her eyes flutter open, searching for mine in the dark. “Can we… not think? Not name it, not define it?”
“You want to just see where this goes?”
“Yeah. I don’t want the pressure that—” She pulls away gently and rolls onto her pillow.
“I get it,” I say, even though I don’t fully agree. But if this is what she needs to stay… I’ll take it.
“Thank you.”
I shift over her, hovering, and add, “Wasn’t thinking about that anyway,” I whisper, a wicked grin spreading across my face.
“Oh…” Her cheeks flush instantly, and I lean down, biting her lower lip. “What were you thinking about, then?”
“Our first time. That night in the cabin.” I slide my cock against the warmth between her thighs, and she closes her eyes, biting her lip harder. “How nervous we were.”
“Yeah,” she breathes, “but once we got past the nerves…”
“We fucked all afternoon. Right next to the fire.”
“Mhm…” she hums, and I trail kisses down her neck.
Until I reach her ear and whisper, “Today’s gonna be a lot like that.”