Page 47 of Lunar Crest University

“Who is keeping you busy?” she asks. “And don’t say work, because I know you’re lying,mijo.”

Fuck.

“I’m not lying to you.”

I feel guilty as soon as the words leave my mouth. It was rocky after she had found out the truth about the kind of work I had done to get them here, and I promised her I would never lie to her again. Now, here I am, breaking my fucking promise.

I seem to be breaking a lot of things these days.

“No dessert for you, then.” She shrugs as she sprinkles the sugar over them.

An exasperated grunt rumbles through my chest as I give her a pointed look.

“You act like I don’t know when you’re lying to me.”

“You’re a meddler,” I say.

Her eyebrows are practically touching her hairline now as she clicks her tongue disapprovingly. With oven-mitt hands, she grabs the hot plate and whisks it away—knowing damn well those things are the way to my heart. She’d make them twice a week when I was a child. I’ve always had a sweet tooth. Maybe that’s why I have such trouble fighting my urges around Finley.

“Fine.” I grip the countertop as I groan. “Fine. Jesus,mamá. It’s just some girl.”

Twisting around, she cocks her head in almost disbelief. “Somegirl? Does she know you call her just some girl?”

Finley Dunaway wasnotjust some girl. She was an enigma—beautiful, intelligent, soft-spoken at times while fiery during others, and someone who saw me as more than what I truly was. Where I saw darkness, she searched for light. Where I stained everything I touched, she made it blossom. She was never just some girl to me. So, that’s what I say.

“She’s not just some girl.”

She walks toward me, dessert in hand.

“Metiche,” I mutter, taking it and biting into it in one swift movement.

“Does she know you talk to your mother like that?” I stifle a laugh as she whacks me with her dish towel again. “Who is she?”

This conversation is a tough pill to swallow, but maybe that’s what I need, to feel that fat ass pill getting stuck in my throat and reminding me of the risks I’m taking so, when I feel too comfortable, I can remember my situation is far from it. I’m in a shit storm of massive proportions that only ends with me doing the very thing I swore I would never do again.

I stare at her for a moment. “My student.”

The tough pill feels like molten lava going down as I speak the truth out loud.

“Luca!Tu deberías saberlo mejor.” Her eyes are wide with shock. “What are you thinking,eh? You know what this job means for you.”

“I know. It’s not… She’s not—” I groan as I fling my hand in the air aimlessly. When was the last time I felt flustered? This is fucking ridiculous. “She’s nearly graduated. It’s not like that. She’s just?—”

Fucking hell.

“Oh, dios mío. You can’t even speak correctly. She must be special.”

Pushing away from the counter, my eyes practically roll toward the back of my head as a weak scoff leaves my lips. The sound is pathetic, and my stomach twists as I mentally curse myself.

“You’ve never even brought a girl home to see me, Luca,” she chides. “I’ve never heard you speak ofanywoman before.”

Because there was never anything other than one-night stands and hookups I wouldn’t see again. If I wasn’t serious about them, I knew better than to bring them home to meet the family. For a while, I had convinced myself I just didn’thave time for anything serious. My life was a revolving door of messes that I had to clean up—throwing a girl into the mix never sounded right.

I turn and hold my hand out. “Well, you’re holding me hostage with my favorite dessert.”

“What’s her name?” She plops another one into my palm.

“Finley.”

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