Page 118 of Their Reckless Thief
“What are we watching?” I asked, already regretting my decision. The colors were loud, the voices even louder, and there was some kind of dramatic argument happening over… I wasn’t even sure what.
Vivian grinned at me, a mix of amusement and pity. “Oh, just some classic reality TV gold. Love, betrayal, horrible decisions. You know, the works.”
Celeste chimed in, clearly excited about the nonsense she was about to force into my brain. “Yeah, so this guy is dating three different girls at the same time, but they all know about it and are living in the same house. They have to compete for his attention, and it’s absolutely ridiculous. You’re gonna love it.”
I blinked.What the fuck?
I opened my mouth to protest, to say something about how this show sounded like the equivalent of setting my brain on fire, but the way she was looking at me, so expectant, like she thought this would be fun for me…
I swallowed my words and grunted instead. “Sounds awful.”
“You have no idea,” Vivian added with a chuckle, clearly enjoying my discomfort. She sat across the room with her legs tucked up in her seat, fully aware of the absurdity of the situation.
Despite myself, I stayed. I watched. At first, I tried to remain detached, my eyes on the screen but my mind far away. It had only been a few minutes, but this show was rotting my brain by the second. There was no plot, just vapid arguments, ridiculous decisions, and pure chaos. And yet, somehow, I found myself stuck there, too far in to leave without making a scene.
Celeste stretched out until her head rested in my lap. My body tensed instantly, a flash of heat spreading through me atthe unexpected contact. She made it look so casual, like this was nothing. Meanwhile, every cell in my body screamed at me to move… to put more distance between us. I should’ve gotten up, walked away, made some excuse to leave the room.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I stayed frozen in place, staring at her as she settled in, her hair falling against my thigh. Vivian caught my eye from across the room, raising an eyebrow and giving me a smug look, like she knew exactly what I was going through. The “good luck” expression. The one that saidYeah, you’re screwed, buddy.
I wanted to snap something back at her, but my focus shifted. Celeste’s breathing had evened out, and I could tell she was drifting off. Her soft exhale brushed against my leg, and my hand moved on its own. I started playing with her hair, gently twisting the strands between my fingers, letting the silky feel of the blonde strands calm the tension running through me.
For some reason, the world felt quieter like this. Less chaotic, less dangerous. Even with the idiocy of whatever reality-show disaster was unfolding on the screen, there was something peaceful about the moment.
Celeste stirred slightly but didn’t wake, curling closer to me. She was so relaxed that it almost made me jealous of her ability to trust, to be vulnerable—with me of all people. How was that even possible?
Minutes ticked by, though it felt like hours. The nonsense on the TV blurred into the background. I kept my hand in her hair, soothing, stroking, keeping the connection between us that I didn’t want to acknowledge but also couldn’t bring myself to break.
When the door creaked open, I barely noticed at first, but Dorian’s voice pulled me out of the trance I’d been caught in. “What the hell is this?”
I looked up, startled to realize that both he and Vincenzo were standing there, staring at the scene in front of them. Two sleeping girls, one sprawled across the couch, the other curled in my lap. I, the supposedly distant, impenetrable Luca, was sitting there like some babysitter watching trash TV with a soft look on my face.
I didn’t respond immediately, and that silence was all Dorian needed to burst out laughing. “Oh man, you really are a softie, aren’t you?”
Vincenzo crossed his arms, his gaze lingering on Celeste, but then he looked at me. His expression was harder to read, somewhere between curiosity and mild amusement. “I didn’t think you’d be the type to get into this kind of… entertainment.”
I shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “Not by choice.”
Dorian took a few steps forward, eyeing the TV with a disgusted look. “Whatisthis? Some sort of modern-day torture?”
Vivian stirred from the other end of the couch, shooting him a playful smirk before rising to head to her bed.
My attention kept drifting back to Celeste, her head still nestled in my lap, peaceful and unaware of the world around her. Her presence was a problem, a complication. Yet somehow, it didn’t feel like that right now.
It felt... good.
Maybe too good.
36
DORIAN
The sun penetratedthe dark curtains of Vincenzo’s mansion, casting a muted glow over the room where I sat, coffee cup in hand, watching Celeste stir beneath the covers. Her body was battered, covered in cuts and bruises, and despite the incredible strength she usually carried herself with, she looked fragile now. I hated that she had been hurt. That someone had dared to touch her, to throw her through that glass.
I’d barely slept the night before, staying close to her as I lay in her bed, listening to her soft, rhythmic breathing. Every now and then she’d wince in her sleep, and I’d stroke her back to soothe her even if she didn’t know I was doing it. Now, as she stirred, slowly waking, I stood up and brought over the tray I’d prepared. Coffee, toast, bacon, and fresh fruit. Simple, but she needed the energy after everything she’d been through.
“Morning, sweetheart,” I said, as I set the tray down on the bed.
