Page 24 of Siren's Heart

“Runner,” Luca tells Asher like he’s reminding him, with an eye roll. Whatever that means. Probably an inside joke between the two of them.

"Anyone got a shovel? I’m trying to find the intellectual level of this conversation." Kayla sounds annoyed. Sure, innuendo becomes annoying if you're sexualized as often as we are, but this is still a pretty tame conversation.

Asher opens his mouth to answer, but right then, our waiter turns the corner with a new set of plates stacked on his forearm.

"Oh, thank God," I mumble, shooting the waiter a grateful smile before I add even more quietly so that only Kayla can hear. "I'm starving, and the salad didn't help at all."

"Same," Kayla says in a normal tone. "We shouldn't have skipped lunch."

"Thank you, Logan," I say, eyeing his name tag as he sets down the plate. We’re basically spending the evening with this guy. It seems warranted to know his name.

Turns out, it was a good idea to skip lunch after all. For the next few hours, empty plates are replaced by full plates, and whenever we think that we've finally reached the last course, our waiter comes around the corner again with his arms fully stacked. I think by course five, he already had to fight to hide his smile.

We're currently at course number nine now if I've counted correctly. Just how many more can there be?

"Thank fucking God, it's dessert," I groan when Logan sets the plate down in front of me. "How many more are there?"

"It wouldn't be fun if I told you," he answers cordially, but I can see the corners of his mouth twitching at the collective groan everyone at the table lets out. Yes, the guys are fighting too.

I think Luca is on his fourth glass of water to 'flush out' the food, and I don't have the heart to tell him that's not how it works. Meanwhile, Kayla and I are on our second shot of Grappa, since my dad always taught me it helps the food sag in my stomach. By now, I'm starting to think that was a lie, and the damned stuff tastes the way glue smells.

"Such a shame all of this is fucking delicious," Asher groans and swallows the bite-sized dessert with just that–one bite.

"We poor, suffering people," I say with an eye roll and take a bite of what I assume to be a macaron. It's covered in edible flowers and other way-too-fancy decorations, so I'm not completely sure until I bite into it. "And the hard life we have."

"Damn right." Asher pats his belly. "It's going to take me hours to train this meal off."

"Oh, shut up," Luca says, annoyed. An adorable crinkle appears between his eyes as he continues to scold his friend about body image and putting too much pressure on himself, all with a worried wrinkle between his eyes.

I can't help but watch him. Even though Kayla is shooting me another funny look, my belly is about to explode. I just can't take my eyes off him. His whole vibe changes when he’s talking about something he’s passionate about. The fact that it’s because he’s worried for his friend makes it all the more endearing.

I really want to touch him. I’ve never had this happen, but just before the two arrived, when we were kind of but not really holding hands? That’s burned itself into my mind. But I don't want to get teased by Kayla or Asher, and while they seem very intent on setting the two of us up, they're also both the teasing kind. Which is fine, but right now... I want whatever is going on to be between us. No spectators. No teasing.

Whatever is between us…is fragile. It’s a flower only just starting to blossom, a fawn on unsteady legs, vulnerable to predators, a soap bubble that could burst any time. And I want to freeze that damn soap bubble, then encase it in resin so it can’t be destroyed.

Maybe it will work out. Maybe it will burst. Only time will tell, but I will be able to say I gave it my best shot.

Finally, I manage to pry my eyes away from Luca, but it makes an uncomfortable feeling overcome me, like a cold breeze continuously blowing on my neck.

Kayla is telling the two of them a story about our last tour, but I have no idea how the topic even came up. Because I have a plan.

I keep my eyes on Kayla as I listen to her and chime in to add details, all while watching Luca from the corner of my eye. Slowly, I slide my foot over the carpeted ground, over to Luca, just like he did with his hand in the car and before the two of them arrived.

When my foot gently taps his, he instantly looks right at me. When Kayla turns to take something out of her bag, I shoot him a small wink, and I swear I can see the smallest smile on his face as he slides his foot forward as well, his instep resting against my heel.

We all turn our heads when the waiter rounds the corner to our secluded section again, arms full of plates, and we collectively groan–another course.

"You almost got it," Logan chuckles as he sets them down in front of us. "It's the last one."

"Thank fucking God." The words seem to slip out of Luca unintentionally, and he looks at everyone like a deer in headlights. "Sorry."

Asher bursts into laughter and slaps his shoulder. "You're saying what we're all thinking, man."

"Now that it's ending, I'm a bit sad, though," I admit, while nudging his foot and shooting Kayla and Asher an exhausted smile. "I mean, the food is really damn delicious, but I'm about to throw up into the flower pot."

"I'd totally offer to eat your dessert and save you from that fate, but I just might explode," Kayla offers, but I shake my head, determined to make it to the end.

"My parents didn't raise me to be a quitter. I'm finishing what I started." I eye the creation on my plate curiously as I try to find out what I’m about to eat. "What is this even?"

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