Page 63 of Bitter When He Begs

But we’d all know I’m a fucking liar.

Roman deserves to be tackled.

It’s not my fault he’s an annoying little shit who thinks it’s funny to push my buttons, and it’s definitely not my fault that my first instinct when he said something especially irritating was to lunge at him while I was in the middle of fixing his shit.

“You’re such a nerd,” he wheezes through laughter as I pin him to the floor of the rec room, my knee pressing into his ribs just enough to make him uncomfortable.

I tighten my grip on his wrist, grinning. “And yet I still managed to take you down.”

He writhes under me, trying to twist out of my hold, but I hold firm, smirking down at him. “I let you win,” he says.

I snort. “You wish.”

Roman tries one more time to break free before slumping against the floor in defeat, his chest rising and falling as he catches his breath. “Alright, fine,” he mutters, barely suppressing a grin. “You win this time.”

I finally released him, pushing off and standing up, brushing dust from my jeans. “A win’s a win.”

He groans as he sits up, rubbing his ribs dramatically like I actually hurt him. “Remind me never to piss you off when you have a real reason to kick my ass.”

I smirk. “Oh, I will.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he gets to his feet, still grinning as he claps a hand on my shoulder. “Thanks for the camera, man. I owe you one.”

“You owe me several,” I correct, rolling my eyes. “But whatever.”

He grins wider. “You love me.”

“I tolerate you, bitch,” I scoff, and he laughs as I grab my keys from the table. After throwing him the middle finger over my shoulder, I head out, stretching my arms over my head as I walk to my car.

I don’t even have to turn around to know Luca followed me out. His presence is too loud, too undeniable, even when he’s not making a sound.

I keep my pace even, pretending I don’t notice, pretending I don’t care, pretending I can’t feel the weight of his stare on my back. It isn’t until I reach my car and unlock the door that I hear his voice.

“How’ve you been?”

I pause, hand hovering over the door handle and my fingers twitching slightly. Because what the fuck kind of question is that? Doesn’t he remember what happened the last time he cornered me at my car?

I turn to look at him, already expecting to feel that same gut punch I always feel when I see him up close, but this time, it’s different.

Luca looks… good.

His eyes are no longer dull, his skin clear, no dark circles shadowing his face, no exhaustion dragging his features down like before.

He looksalive.

I clear my throat, leaning against my car and trying to play this off like this isn’t weird. “I’ve been fine.”

Luca hums, studying me with those knowing blue eyes like he’s trying to read me. “You sure?”

I narrow my eyes slightly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Luca shrugs, running a hand through his hair, and fuck, it’s so weird having a conversation with him that doesn’t feel like a trap. One where he’s not mocking me or taunting me. He’s just talking, and, honestly, I don’t know how to handle it.

He exhales slowly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other before he tilts his head to the side. “We’re having a BBQ on Sunday.”

I blink, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “Okay…?”

He nods, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “You should come.”

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