My stomach twists as I grab the phone, my pulse quickening. Sure enough, there it is:Luca has matched with you.
“Oh, shit,” I whisper, staring at the screen. My chest tightens as I glance over at Gio again, hoping he’ll wake up and offer some kind of moral support. He doesn’t. Of course.
“What do I do, what do I do?!” I groan, flopping back against the couch cushions. My mind races as I imagine every possible outcome of this—most of them ending in complete and utter humiliation.
Panic at the disco. Full-blown freak-out mode.
Holyshit.
I sit up abruptly, clutching my phone like it’s my lifeline. “Okay, Nova. Calm down. It’s probably not even him. It’s probably just some random dude using his pictures.”
The phone pings again.
Luca has sent you a note!
“I can’t look.”
Yes, you can. Stop being a wuss.
I take a deep breath and peek at the screen, through my fingers.
Luca: Does Gio know you swiped right on me?
Well. That solves that mystery. This is one-hundred percent my brother's teammate.
Grinning despite myself, I tap out a cheeky response.
Me: Gio is not the boss of me.
Luca: Good to know.
I stare at that sentence, my heart and stomach doing a stupid little flip; something about the brevity of it feels deliberately careful, like he’s testing the waters.
Another message immediately pops up.
Luca: But I’m sure he’d have opinions.
I snort, rolling my eyes
Me: Gio always has opinions.
The dots appear again, and I find myself leaning forward, waiting for whatever he’s going to say next.
Luca: Fair. But just so we’re clear, this conversation doesn’t leave the app. I like my face the way it is—unbroken.
Me: You want this to stay a secret?
Interesting.
I like it.
Luca: No need for drama over nothing.
Nothing?
I laugh, a full, belly-deep laugh, not sure if I should be insulted by his insinuation that matching with me amounts to, well–nothing. The dog glances over at me, ears twitching, before deciding he’s not interested in whatever has me so amused.
Me: NOTHING? Wow. I’m SO flattered.