Page 36 of Trouble in Love
“Wow, that’s cool. Teach me some?”
“No,”
“Why not?” He bounced again and fuck me if it wasn’t adorable. “I’m not the smartest guy, but I think you know I’m good with my hands.”
Tilting my head to the side, I quirked my brow. “Really?”
“Come on Princess. Just one thing ... or two, or three. I’ve nowhere to be, and no one else I want to see.”
“Oh, you’re a cornball poet now. Great.”
A smile bloomed across his face and another part of me defrosted. “For you, I’m anything and everything.”
Fighting back a grin, I tossed my beer-soaked cloth against the beer and sighed. “Jesus Christ. Does this shit work on girls at home?”
“Some. But I haven’t tried it out in a long time, and just for clarity,” he paused, color painting his cheeks, as his head dropped. “I might have tried it out on guys, too. I normally wouldn’t put it out there like that, but I’d rather me tell you than Google.”
Affections I did not want to acknowledge swelled in my belly. As too did a desire to brush the dark locks from those moody blue eyes. “Luca, you don’t have to justify yourself to anyone, but especially not me. I’m hardly the spokesperson for virtuousness ... as I think you well know.”
He looked up through his lashes, his eyes dripping with sincerity. “Your opinion matters to me.”
“It shouldn’t.”
“Well...” holding his breath, though waiting for the right thing to say to fall from his mouth. “It does. So there.”
This guy is too cute.I mussed for the hundredth time.
“Fine. I will teach you three signs and then you will leave and not come back. We’re done here.”
I ignored the dimpled grin and excited bouncing and instead served the next patron, willing my feelings to flow through me as easily as the beer did from the tap,
Luca
“It’s just sex. Just Sex. I’m not in love. I’m not in love. I am not in love.”
“Excellent. Now one more time with feeling.”
“It’s just sex. I am not in love … ‘cept maybe I am a bit.”
“Ughh,” I swore I could have heard Anabela’s groan across oceans, without the aid of a phone. “Luca, only a few weeks ago you were desperately in love with that bitch, Clara. Remember her? The one you were about to marry before she scuttled off with your teammate. The one whose sluttiness sent you into a depressive tailspin that almost cost you your career?”
“Oh. Yeah.” I scratched my chin. “Thanks for reminding me. You’re right. None of this would have happened if it wasn’t for Clara. I should send her a present. Maybe a miniature donkey. She always wanted one of them.”
A long pause filled with heavy, angry-sounding breathing followed. “For fuck’s sake, Luca. You are not in love with a nameless Australian you’ve tongue fucked twice, and you are not sending a miniature horse to Clara.”
“Donkey.”
“What?”
“I was thinking of sending her a miniature donkey. Not a horse.”
Another pause. “Oh my god, it doesn’t matter. The point is you are not in love with this Australian and you were not in love with Bitchface.”
“Clara,” I again corrected. “And even though I am over her and am now in love with Miss Hart, you still shouldn’t talk about her like that. What we shared was special.” No reply came. No breathing either. “Ana. You still there, Ana?” I pulled the phone from my ear and stared at the screen. Yep. She’d hung up on me.
Probably deserved that.
Letting the phone slip from my hand, I rolled onto my belly, the residual sweat from my earlier workout squelching against the mat.
