Page 52 of Luca & Luna

Every touch was so tender I had to suck back tears. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had taken care of me like this. Probably close to twenty years ago now. Luckily the shower hid any tears that escaped. Once I was soaped, conditioned, and thoroughly rinsed, Luca dried and lotioned me, and took the time to French braid my hair.

“Why do you know how to do this?”

Luca laughed softly. “Nicky taught me when I was little. I wanted to play with her, and it was Barbies or nothing, so I spent the afternoon making some very questionable braids on her dolls so they would look appropriate to attend doll court for their various crimes.”

A laugh burst out of me. “Is that a thing all little girls did?”

“What crimes did your dolls go to court for?” Luca asked.

“Oh, you know, kidnapping, adultery, soap opera-esque framed murders and secret identities.”

“Soap opera, eh?”

“I watched a lot secretly while I was supposed to be napping. Though I’m not sure if the doll custody fights were inspired by real life or the shows.”

“Mom hasn’t missed a single episode of her stories for as long as I can remember. Even vacations. She’d have one of her friends tape them for her, and when we got back home, Dad would take us all to the park for hours so she could get caught up in peace.”

I knew he was trying to distract me, and honestly, it was working. “That’s sweet. I doubt my dad ever bothered with anything nearly that kind for my mom.”

“I absolutely want to know more about your past, but for tonight I think we should keep things mellow. Thoughts?”

“You’re probably right.” I sighed.

Luca chatted with me about the last movie I’d watched—the most recent princess movie with my nieces—while he finished off the second French braid and tied off the ends with some hair ties he found under the sink. “Want to be carried upstairs or walk? Oh, I should also get a snack and some water into you.”

“I have a minifridge upstairs with water and snacks,” I replied. “They’re always on hand just in case my body decides to go rogue. But to answer your question, I can walk.”

Stubbornness kept me from melting into his arms and letting him princess carry me upstairs. I’d said no nest, and if I couldn’t stick to my own rules, what hope was there for me? Luca had coddled me enough for the night and I could suck it up to get myself into bed after I’d let him do everything else.

“If you’re sure.” He searched my face, and I wasn’t certain what he saw. Were my eyes red from crying? Was I all puffy and blotchy? Could he tell that I wanted him to stay as much as I wanted him to leave so I could retreat into myself?

“I am.”

Luca puffed up his cheeks. “All right. Should I head out, then?”

“Probably.” I traced my fingertips over my braids and slipped into his arms. “Thank you. I know I might not seem grateful, but I am.”

“I know.” He stroked my cheeks, pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, and then dropped one to my mouth. “I just want you to feel better. I’ll do whatever you need, and if that’s going home, then I’ll do that.”

I swallowed hard. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him to stay, but instead I thanked him again and nuzzled into his palm. “I’m so tired.”

“I’ll get out of your hair, then.”

Luca tugged on his clothes and gave me a final kiss before departing. I stood in my empty apartment, feeling hollow. I grabbed the container of lemon shortbread Luca had brought over for me tonight, and snatched his towel out of the hamper in a moment of reckless abandon, taking both with me up to my nest.

I burrowed into the blankets, ignoring the uncomfortable dampness of the towel because it held Luca’s scent. I tucked my face into it while I scarfed down a few cookies, feeling the heavy tug of sleep dragging me under. Sunlight and beaches and salt air slipped into my senses, filling in the space between wakefulness and oblivion.

“Don’t put me up for bid tonight. Tips only,” I told Arthur, the omega who owned the club I worked at.

He raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Not like you to turn down the money. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just not feeling it tonight.”

There was no fucking way I was going to tell my club boss I had a panic attack after sex and had been feeling off-kilter about it since. I could take a weekend off from back-room clients without causing too much ruckus and give myself time to fully settle again.

“More for me,” Auggie joked.

Arthur rolled his eyes, exasperated at the pair of us, and walked away.

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