Page 102 of Inferno
He offered me a conspiratorial smile. ‘If you knew how badly I’m tangled up in this Falcone stuff…’
I grimaced. ‘You know what I mean.’
‘I’m not going to judge you,’ he said. ‘You’re the same person you always were. So please,’ he leant back again and this time his smile was soft, ‘don’t worry about all that otherstuff, Marino.’
‘OK, Falcone.’ I scowled at him and he scowled right back. ‘But I really just want to be by myself right now, so if you think I’m just going to sit here and spill my guts to you about what I’m feeling, then you’re wrong.’
‘That’s fine.’ He shrugged, looking past me towards the slivered gap in my curtains. ‘Did you know it’s going to be a blood moon tonight? You should open your curtains so you can see it.’
‘Are you being for real right now?’
He raised his eyebrows, the movement making his eyes seem impossibly huge and bluer than ever. ‘Have you never seen one?’ he asked. ‘The moon looks like it’s been dipped in red paint and it glows so bright you can barely see the stars. It’s one of those phenomena that remind you how—what? Why are you looking at me like that?’
‘OK, Mufasa. I get it.’
Luca’s mouth dropped open and I had the absurd feeling of laughter catching in my cheeks. ‘Excuse me for trying to enlighten you about the wonders of this universe.’
‘Don’t waste your breath on me, Nature Nerd. Save it for the space documentary you so obviously want to make.’
He shook his head. ‘See what happens when I try to be sincere? You stomp on my dreams.’
‘I’m not stomping on them, I’m making fun of them. There’s a difference.’
‘Is there?’
‘It’s very subtle.’
‘So are you going to let me finish?’
I was pulled back into myself, the amusement drainingfrom the ache in my cheeks. Had I been smiling? I frowned, scolding myself. I rubbed at my chest, trying to soothe the sudden roaring pain inside it, demanding to be felt.
Luca was talking again. What was his game plan? Did he really think I was interested in astrology at a time like this? ‘What are you still doing here?’ I interrupted. ‘I mean, seriously.’
He fell out of his sentence. I watched him weigh his words, surprised at how accustomed I had become to the subtleties in his body language. ‘We went through a big thing, Sophie.Youwent through a big thing.’
‘So?’
‘So?’ he repeated with emphasis. ‘I’m worried about you.’
‘Don’t.’ The pang was growing deeper. I lay back and looked at the ceiling.
‘You saved my life, Sophie.Again,’ he added after a beat, like he couldn’t quite believe it. I wasn’t sure which shocked him more, the fact that he kept almost dying, or thatIkept saving him.
‘That’s two–one to me,’ I said, without feeling any amusement. ‘You owe me a grand gesture.’
‘I thought it was a bouquet.’
‘One is a bouquet. Two is a grand gesture.’
‘Name it.’
‘Go away. Is that grand enough for you?’
‘That’s too grand.’
I exhaled noisily at the ceiling.
‘So what’s going on with that old lady in your kitchen? She’s been here all week. I asked her if she was your grandmother and she called me a worthless heathen and told me to mindmy own business. Millie had to force her to let us inside and when Nicolò tried to make a sandwich she threw a fork at him. As someone who has thrown many forks at my brother I wouldn’t advise it. He has a very bad temper…’ Luca kept talking, filling the space with words upon words, waiting for me to bite.
