Andholy shitballs.
ItisLucky.
Inky-black, slicked-back hair, a bit more stubble on his cheeks than I'm used to seeing in his videos, and he's wearing a button-down shirt with a gray vest, but no tie. He's sitting in front of a fancy fountain in the elaborate courtyard that I've seen in pictures of his New Orleans house, surrounded by lush foliage and gas lanterns flickering on the walls.
“Ava? You there?” he queries in that timbre that makes me have to cross my legs and squeeze my thighs together. “I can’t see anything.”
His dark brows pull low, and his fingers appear to be tapping and swiping the screen.
“I’m here.” Internally cringing, I remove my thumb from the camera and attempt a pleasant expression.
A panty-melting smile pulls across his lips. “There you are.”
This is too fucking weird. I can’t look at him, and I shift my eyes to the side. “Yep. There I am.”
“Ava,” he goes on, his tone like that of a man on a mission. “I get the feeling you’re ignoring me.”
My eyes widen ever so slightly.
So Lucky De Luca is suddenlyso awareof my existence that he noticed I’ve been avoiding his posts.
Now I’m just embarrassed for being called out, and I blurt, “No.” I briefly dart my gaze to make eye contact, but then look away again. “I just—”
“I tagged you in that video about the contest so you wouldn’t miss it.” He winks at me, still smiling. “And it looks like you missed it.”
“Oh, I…uh…I mean, I just…” I stammer, flicking my gaze all over the place and fumbling to tuck my hair behind my ear. “I mean, things are kind of crazy at work, and I…you know…I had a chance to meet you already, so I didn’t…you know…like…want to take that opportunity from—”
“And we agreed that it’d be cool to hang out a little more.” Lucky pauses and thenlicks his lips. It’s soovertly sexual that I’m completely flummoxed.
“That wasn’t exactly what I said, was it?”
He chuckles deep and richly, his image shaking a bit from the vibration of it. “No, it wasn’t. That’s what I said. And I meant it. So what’re we gonna do about you missing this contest?”
“Uh.” I’m suddenly aware of the fact that I’m fanning myself, and he appears to notice even before I do.
“Hot day in Texas, Ava doll?”
I drop my hand into my lap. “No…I mean, yes…or just—”
“Ava…sweetie.”
Two terms of endearment back-to-back have me nearly sliding out of my chair. I respond with a breathless, “Yeah?”
“I meant it,” he says, his dark brows gently lifted. “I’m disappointed that you didn’t enter, and you promised you wouldn’t disappoint me.”
All of this has me so breathless that I feel lightheaded. “I’m sorry?”
He narrows his cobalt blue eyes playfully. “Are you scared of me, Ava?”
I frantically shake my head.
“Good,” he says matter-of-factly, “‘cuz I’ve chosen you as one the winnerseven thoughyou didn’t enter the contest. So you’re gonna be spending a few days with me and my band. And I definitely don’t want you feelin’ scared.”
“I…I…you…I mean…but…” There’s really only one question to ask in a situation like this.“Why me?”
Lucky hitches his shoulders and offers an easy smile. “You’ve been around since almost the very beginning. You’re one of my most loyal fans. You’re the whole reason I do this at all.”
This is a total fantasy situation that people dream up in their heads, and I feel like I should pinch myself. “I am?”