Page 32 of Siren's Heart

He clears his throat, and the sound awakens me, like a glass of ice-cold water splashing into my face. Flustered, I smile and lower my head to look at the ground.

"I'll just put these in some water," I press out and flee to the kitchen. His footsteps behind me tell me he's following me leisurely, without a doubt scanning the area curiously. Opening the kitchen cupboards, I try to find a vase, but there doesn't seem to be one. No wonder. That's a highly specific item to have in a pre-furnished apartment.

I scan the room for something else to put them in when my eyes land on a fake bouquet in the corner. Quickly, I walk over to it, unceremoniously dump out the fake flowers and throw them on the small decoration table, then fill the vase with water and put my bouquet in there, shushing them a bit, before I face Luca again.

"Beautiful." I grin and lock my arm with his. "I adore sunflowers. They always make me smile."

"That makes sense," he chuckles, walking to my front door to start our date. "Because you're like sunshine."

"You're making me blush," I state the obvious, sneakily hiding my red face behind my hair as I lock up my apartment door. He’s probably just saying that because of the sunflowers on my dress. Right?

Our footsteps echo against the hallway walls as we make our way to the elevator, my short legs trying to keep up with him. I chuckle at the loud, out-of-rhythm beat of our footsteps.

"Where are we going?"

"First stop, food." He nods, obviously proud of himself for what he’s planned. "There's this lovely mom-and-pop Italian restaurant halfway to where we're going. I hope you like Italian?"

"Italian sounds wonderful," I tell him, giggling when my stomach decides to chime in and growl. I feel his whole body relax a bit against my side, making me more relaxed in return. Good to know I'm not the only one nervous about this date.

Dinner is lovely. When Luca told me he hadn't booked out the restaurant and just put in a regular reservation since the tables are pretty private anyway, I got worried for a second. Like Kayla and Naroa said, it’s way too early to publicize that we’re dating and let all the potential hate cloud what’s developing between us.

But despite my fears, the restaurant was pretty empty. Judging by the fact that the two owners, Maria and Giovanni, greeted Luca like a long-lost son, I’m starting to think that they might have something to do with us being the only ones in the restaurant after all.

I don't really care, though, because I just had the most delicious lasagne of my life.

Now we're back in his car. He opened my door for me like a gentleman and only then jumped into the driver’s seat to get us to our second destination. And I still have no idea where we’re going.

His big hand rests on my thigh, a warm, grounding weight, as he navigates through traffic. His other hand is on the steering wheel, and for some reason, I find it extremely sexy. There is just something about him navigating the streets so confidently. I can't see his biceps since they’re covered by his dress shirt, but he looks hot doing it anyway.

I alternate between trying to find out where we’re going and being distracted by his hand, my whole leg tingling under his touch. My muscles are tense, like a guitar string, ever since he put his hand there. I fight the urge to squirm in my seat and focus on our surroundings.

"The zoo?" I guess as we drive past a sign pointing out that it's somewhere around here.

"Nope," he chuckles and turns the exact opposite way at the next intersection.

"The..." I squint my eyes to make out what's written on the next sign before we drive past it. "Museum of Art?"

"Also, no." He laughs at the very, big relieved sigh I let out.

"Don't get me wrong, I enjoy art, but I’m so full and comfy that I might have just fallen asleep."

"I can manage that at museums even without having eaten beforehand," he assures me, starting the blinker. "We're almost there."

"Thank God. I'm dying of curiosity here." My leg, the one not captured in his grasp, begins to bob up and down as I try to find an outlet for my nervousness.

"Well, we can't have that." He spots a parking space and expertly parks his car. Or, Asher's car, as I've learned. He takes his hand off my thigh to park, and I’m almost disappointed…until I start watching him. I mean, the way the muscles in his neck strain when he turns to look through the rear window?

Unreal.

When he’s satisfied with the car’s position, he reaches over the console and gives my thigh a short squeeze. "Wait for a second."

I nod, and he jumps out of the car, only to open my door once he deems the passing traffic safe. My cheeks stretch in a wide grin. I'm perfectly capable of opening a car door myself, but it's charming. I’m a sucker for acts of service as a love language. Well, I’m a sucker for any love language as long as I feel appreciated.

Climbing out of the very high car, I instinctively reach for his hand. He tenses when I first close my finger around his, and I glance up at him. Did I misjudge?

He looks tense, but the way he’s looking at our hands with his eyes crinkling into a smile has a warm cloud surrounding my heart. Only a moment later, the tension seeps out of him and he laces his finger with mine.

It feels monumental, like more than just holding hands. And I love it.

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