Page 48 of Quake

"Gracias, Lucía. Hay bocadillos para Josie en la despensa. Llévate lo que quieras."Thanks, Lucia. There are snacks for Josie in the pantry. Take whatever you want,I tell her as I head out, ruffling the little girl’s chestnut-brown curls. She looks up atme, her crooked grin with only a few teeth left hanging on pulls a genuine smile out of me as I head downstairs, hoping to see Lark on her way to class.

It’s really started to warm up out here. A sheen of sweat is already starting to coat my skin as I stand in the sun, waiting to see if Lark will make it down the stairs before I absolutely have to leave to get there on time.

As if I’d called her, she rushes through the doors toward me, her red waves a mess behind her as she pants. “Gianni, hi!” she shouts at me, sounding out of breath.

“Good morning, Dr. Hughes. What’s got you so out of breath this morning?” I ask, realizing too late that my words sound suggestive.

She doesn’t seem to notice as she answers, still breathless. “I had to stay at work late last night, and I missed my alarm this morning, so I’m a bit of a mess today. Hopefully, nobody cares too much since we’ll all be getting covered in dog hair, anyway.” She flashes me a smile.

I take in her flushed face, wild hair, and smudged mascara, presumably left over from yesterday. “You’re beautiful,” I tell her, more by accident than anything else. She’s not the only one who’s breathless here. Even looking like an absolute mess, she still manages to make me hum with the need to devour her mouth.

She peers up at me through thick lashes, a smile curving her lips, but says nothing as we continue in the direction of Rocket Dog.

When we reach the building, I hold the door open for her, letting her and Tiny pass us.

Chapter twenty-eight

Lark

As we make it inside our building, I feel a little sad at the thought of not seeing Gianni for the rest of the day. He is guarded, and rightfully so, considering everything my dad’s told me about what happened to his best friend, Alex Casillas, who was the Divine Flyers goalkeeper until his passing. And since my dad is the owner of the team, it’s his job to know every detail about his players to avoid scandals.

But while he’s absolutely got a dark cloud looming over him, he’s been nothing but gentle and kind with me. He says things that make my heart flutter in my chest, so I can’t help but ask, “Wanna come over for a bit?”

“Yes,” he says immediately, icy-blue eyes widening and cheeks flaming as he realizes his mistake. Gianni Elisio Amato-De Laurentiislikesme, and he wants to spend time with me.

God, this feels like a high school crush, but I haven’t felt so desired in my entire life, so I have no qualmsabout leaning into this feeling. May as well bask in the glory of it while he’s still willing to give it.

“Great,” I tell him, leading us upstairs.

“Mind if Pickles comes too? I don’t like leaving her home alone if I can help it.”

“Oh, absolutely. The boys love Pickles,” I say, shooting him a reassuring smile over my shoulder.

“Thanks, um.” He pauses. “I’ve gotta drop by my place real quick,” he says, and he blushes again, averting his gaze.

“No problem. Just meet me back at mine when you’re ready.”

A few minutes later, I’m back in my apartment, thankful for the moment away from Gianni as I now realize my place is a wreck.

I rush around, tossing the plates left in the sink into the dishwasher, throwing a hamper of clothing into the wash, and making my bed. I’m not sure why I prioritize that part of my home, as I have no intention of taking us there. I mean, not unless something rather big changes.

I hear Gianni’s soft knock at the door, and I rush to open it.

He’s standing there in black skinny jeans and a black T-shirt that hugs his muscular chest so perfectly. He’s holding a pink stuffed animal in one hand and Pickles’s hot-pink leash in the other. He unleashes her and passes the toy to her, which she grabs so gently by the big floppy ear of the stuffed rabbit’s head as she heads over to where Tiny and Rex are lying in their beds together. She curls up beside them, suckling on the stuffed toy, presumably worn out from their class this morning.

He clears his throat, appraising me as I stand here, gawking at him.

“Uh, sorry, want something to eat?” I ask, picking at the hem of my shorts.

His eyes flare with heat, and under his breath, he says, “Maintenant, oui.”I do now.He works on a swallow, and my mouth suddenly feels dry. He blinks a few times as if he just had an out-of-body experience and didn’t mean to speak at all. Gianni turns, heading into the kitchen and adds, “Sure, I’ll make us something.” He says it as if he hadn’t just insinuated he wants to eatme.

Opening the fridge, his biceps bulge as he grabs ingredients, laying them out on the counter.

It takes a little while, but my braindoeseventually catch up. “Gianni, it’s my house, and I asked ifyouwanted anything to eat. I can cook for us, really. It’s not a problem.”

“Lark, mind if you just let me busy myself and do something foryoufor once? I get the feeling you don’t let that happen often,” he tells me as he continues opening cabinets and grabbing items out.

“Well, alrighty then.” I huff, blowing out a long breath. It’s uncanny how he’s already figured that out, but something tells me he has that exact same habit.

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