I’m an expert at having meaningless sex. But, so far, none of the sex I’ve had with Luca has felt like that. It’s too good, and I know him too well for things to stay casual.
That night on his couch, I couldn’t stop myself from wrapping my arms around him. Drinking in the moment he came, feeling his body shake and reveling in the fact thatIdid that to him.
“Wow,” I say, turning to him and raising an eyebrow once we’re out of the apartment. “Pretty confident bringing out the Firebird, huh?”
“It’s not supposed to snow,” he says, stepping in front of me to open my door. “And where we’re going, the roads will be clear.”
“You got really close to referencingBack to the Future.”
“Aren’t you a little young for that movie?”
He closes my door right after he says it, and I have to wait for him to circle around to the driver’s seat and open that door before I can retort, “Didn’t you Google me?”
Luca must realize I’m quoting himself back to him, because he cracks a smile. “I’m twenty-eight. And you’re twenty-six.”
“How could you possibly know that?” I ask, and he gives me a wry smile, and I reach over, punching him on the arm. “You read through my file at work! I can’t believe you did that!”
“Really?” he asks, eyebrows raised exaggeratedly. I’m already laughing, because I get the point he’s making—the private detective incident I swore I would never forget, but that I already did. He hired a private detective on me, why should it be a surprise that he might read my work file? “You really can’t believe I would do that?”
“Give me the aux,” I say, holding out my palm. “That’s the only thing that will make up for this.”
Luca wrinkles his nose at me and jokes, “Shit, maybe you’re older than I thought. Theaux? I put a Bluetooth radio in here a long time ago.”
“Not older,” I say, rolling my eyes and tapping on his screen to find my phone. “Poorer.”
For the first time since he showed up at my place, things get quiet, and I can tell me bringing up our differences in tax brackets isn’t his preferred choice in conversation topic. IdidGoogle him, and I know those celebrity net worth things aren’t really accurate. But even that number was staggering to me.
To lighten the mood, I put on my musical theater playlist and lean back in my seat. Then I wail at the top of my lungs to the first song that comes on.
Luca turns the music down and looks over at me, laughing. “You really have no shame, do you?”
“No,” I admit, reaching over his hand for the volume control, not wanting to confront that thought. “What, are you one of those guys who’s masculinity is threatened by musical theater?”
He laughs, “You clearly didn’t spend enough time with my dad if you think that could be true.”
“So, youlikemusicals?”
To answer, he reaches again for the volume control and turns it back up, coming back in flawlessly for the male singer’s portion. A little flicker of something moves through my heart, and I throw myself into singing too, so I can ignore it as best I can.
Luca is right. I’m the expert on reading people. So why does he keep surprising me? It should have been obvious to me that a man like him would be good at anything, including singing show tunes.
Or maybe I should have drawn on another pattern. The pattern of him fitting against me perfectly. Of course he would know these songs.
We pull into the parking lot ten minutes later, and I can’t stop myself from laughing when we get out.
“A train ride?” I ask him over the top of the Firebird.
He grins at me, running a hand through his golden hair. “Ascenictrain ride on TheSweetheartTrain.”
It’s cheesy. I should focus on that—how completely cliche Luca McKenzie it is. But it’s like I can’t even look at him right now or my chest feels too light. Fuzzy.
So instead, I turn toward the little train station, saying, “Well, let’s hurry up. I’m freezing out here.”
We’re halfway across the parking lot when something tugs at my subconscious, and I see a figure across the lot in a dark coat. Fear and adrenaline zip through me, making my mouth taste like battery acid. But I don’t turn—don’t look.
That man is in the shape of my father. And he’s looking right at me.
“What’s wrong?” Luca asks, and when I feel his arm brushing mine, it breaks the spell. When I finally look, there’s no figure. Just a family climbing out of a minivan together.
