Page 6 of Fluttering Heart

What’s that about?

I clear my throat to push that question away—it’s none of my business—and then I take a step back to give him that personal space again.

“I actually can’t believe you even opened the door,” I say just to have somethingtosay. He tilts his head curiously.

“I’m not sure why I did, honestly. Living in a city as big as Chicago, I’m well aware of the dangers of a home invasion and that late night visitors aren’t welcome. I guess I was too tired and didn’t really think about any of it. Which is concerning, really,” he whispers that last part.

“You’re from Chicago too?” Now what are the chances of that?

“You live in Chicago?” he asks, eyes wide.

“Close. In Crushville, which is just forty minutes outside the city. I don’t know if you’ve heard of it?—”

“Of course I have,” he interrupts me loudly and, thankfully, with excitement. “It’s on the list of best places to live in Illinois every single year. I’ve always wanted to check it out.” And he checksmeout in that moment. At least, it feels like he’s checking me out when his eyes trail down my incredibly creased shirt and then jeans.

He snaps his eyes back up when he gets to my sock-clad feet, and though I see a blush start to bloom in those soft, barely covered with stubble cheeks, I can’t know for sure that he was checking me out unless I outright ask. And I’m not ready for that.

“I’m biased of course,” I say, my voice thicker than before, though I doubt he notices it’s so subtle. I’m thankful for the change of topic in the conversation. “I grew up there and never wanted to leave, so I didn’t.”

“All the pictures I’ve seen make it look like the idyllic small town.” There’s a note of wistfulness in his words, and I’m about to tell him he’s invited to barge into my place any time when the screen of his phone steals my attention.

“Oh, you’re buying a plane ticket?” I recognize the airline’s app.

“Changing it, actually.”

“Why?” I frown, and then it dawns on me. “Oh I totally fucked up your weekend, didn’t I?”

“No,” he says with a shake of his head and a tiny, fucking adorable snort. “I was already having a bad time, so it’s not all your fault. I’m here for a conference and I have my flight set for Monday, but the weekend is more of a social gathering than a conference. I think I’m ready to head home.”

Something inside me tells me to protest. He can’t leave now. I’m just now talking to him.

“Well, I’m really sorry. I made sure everything in the bathroom is pristine,” I repeat.

Lou makes me nervous. The way his eyes bore into mine makes me feel exposed. Like he can see every thought passing through my mind.

“And I borrowed a bit of toothpaste.” I wince, hoping he doesn’t mind that, and take a deep breath to keep going before I lose my nerve, and before he tells me to get the fuck out of his room once and for all. “So listen, I really do feel bad. Can I invite you out for brunch? As an apology?” I clarify. I don’t care that all the vibes I’m getting from Lou are awesome and very, very much welcome, you just never know with these situations and it’s sadly better to be cautious.

I wait with bated breath for his answer.

CHAPTER 4

Lou

My head tiltsto the side like it always does whenever I have to think about something really hard. Finn looks... well, tired and hungover of course, but that doesn’t mean he lost the Italian god status overnight.

Not even when he had his eyes half closed and his breath reeked of booze did he seem unattractive to me.

I’m still reeling from the way my hand tingled when he slid his soft palm perfectly into place against it, so of course I do have to give some mental power to his request. Much more than I normally would if a man this perfect looking asked me to have any kind of meal with him.

But that’s never really happened to me before.

I’m totally a fish out of water in this situation.

I feel fine now, about everything that happened last night. It was an honest, drunken mistake for him to bang on my door, and I accept that as fact. I have no reason to doubt him. But still, the way he looks, the way he didn’t look bothered or disgusted after my eyes got away from me and I trailed them down his perfect body, they way he actually looked curious, it’s all fucking with my brain.

I look down at my phone.

If I do pay the three hundred dollars for my flight change—that the company would pay for me, thankfully—then I wouldn’t have time to go to brunch with Finn. I wouldn’t have time to satisfy this burning curiosity about him.

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