Page 45 of Lunar Crest University

He shushes me, leaning forward to press his lips to mine. The sweet flavor explodes across my mouth as his tongue slides inside, and the heat pools in my belly. I have never tasted myself before, nor have I ever had the thought, but it turns me on to think about where his lips just were, to taste the evidence of him making me feel good.

“Don’t do that,” he says. “Don’t apologize. This was always the goal, Finley. I wasn’t going to stop until you came all over my face.”

My face falls in my hands as I groan.

“Hey.Hey.” His voice grows serious as he pulls at my wrists. “I like it messy,Princesa. There’s no need to be embarrassed.”

I give him a timid smile. “No?”

“Nope. It’s kind of an ego boost, you know?”

With a teasing snort, I shove his chest. “Stop.”

The laugh that rumbles through him is enough to make my stomach flutter. “I’m serious. And stop hiding your face from me, yeah?Eres bonita.”

He’s more lighthearted than I’ve ever seen him, and I’m afraid it has planted the seeds in my heart. They’ll sprout, spread inside my veins as quickly as the blood that pumps through them, and be impossible to get rid of. You can yank them out over and over again, but pieces will always be left behind, tiny fragmented roots that will forever be a part of me.

“What does that mean?” I whisper, chewing at the inside of my lip. “You always speak Spanish, but I don’t know what any of it means. I’d like to learn.”

Luca stills, and only his ragged breaths can be heard as his eyebrows pull together. Solace pools in his dark eyes. I wish I could read his mind.

“It means that you’re pretty.”

His words bring warmth to my cheeks, or maybe it’s been there the entire time—a permanent pink stain dusting my pale cheekbones. I never thought of my fair skin as a disadvantage until now. The slightest blush probably beams like a flashing red signal every time he speaks to me.

“You know, you’re kind of a softie.” Falling over on the couch cushion, I cheekily adjust my panties as I prop my feet in his lap.“Who would have thought that the grumpy alley guy who is a secret gunslinger has a heart?”

His hands find the arch of my foot as he massages it with his thumb. “All villains have a heart, Finley. No one is born evil.”

“You think you’re a villain?”

He cocks his head at me. “I’m certainly not a hero.”

It’s quiet for a moment as he rubs my feet, and I watch as he avoids my gaze by glancing up at the picture of me and my dad hanging on the wall. He blinks steadily as he stares at the photo, studying it even though his mind is far away.

“An anti-hero.”

This grabs his attention.

“Your approach may not be socially acceptable, but it doesn’t make you bad. It doesn’t make you avillain.” I sit up, shrugging as I lick my lips. “You’ve helped me. Over and over again. You’re always helping me. Maybe it’s not conventional, but it’s not villainous. So–an anti-hero.”

Lifting my head to look at him, I see him staring at me like I’ve just spilled the solutions to all of life’s mysteries. His chest rises and falls with each uneven breath, and his fingers wrap around my ankle with ease, as if he’s scared to let go. His gaze sends electricity down my spine, and the goosebumps aren’t far behind as they explode across every bit of my exposed skin.

I’m not sure if I’m making it up because I have a hard time deciphering anything anymore—but I swear I see the roots sprouting in the depths of his dark brown eyes. Although there is no sunlight in the dim light of my apartment, his irises swirl with golden flecks. Warm, rich, and soft. The void that usually rests in them dissipates as the pools of reprieve take its place.

As we hold each other's eyes, I wonder if the seeds are in his heart too.

Chapter Eighteen

LUCA

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 21ST, 2023

The dark brown brick of my mother’s house appears almost black in the dreary afternoon rain. Clusters of Red Columbine flowers bloom in front of the bay windows, drooping slightly as water patters against the red and white petals. It’s a beautiful house, resting along the river that emerges from an abundance of woods scattered just outside Lunar Crest, shrouded in greenery and vines cascading the exterior.

With large windows to see the everlasting rain, the river rushing quietly behind the house, and a library that takes up nearly half of the main floor, it’s my mother’s dream home.

It reminds me of why I did what I had to do when I worked under Javier, why I wanted out, and why I’m being sucked right back in. I only wanted to protect the people I care about, which I’m still doing, but seeing my mother always puts things into perspective for me. When my head doesn’t feel like it’s screwed on right, this is where I end up.

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