Page 141 of Green Flag
“Her dad is going to lose his shit,” Livie sighed as Nix came round the corner, mouth full with the baguette he carried in his mouth, having missed all of the photo shoot.
“They’ve got pickled onion, Livid? Want one?”
28
Chapter 28
Luca
ETTORE: Nothing. Probably a different plane.
Thank fuck.
No. Fuck. I shouldn’t be relieved that we hadn’t found anything.
Even if finding something would mean I got to leave.
But I wouldn’t just be leaving Ciclati. I’d be leaving her.
When I mentioned there was a line-dancing bar in the town where we were staying, her eyes lit up, just like her brothers’ at Christmas, and she stomped her feet in excitement.
We were in the hotel for less than twenty minutes as she changed into the boots I got her for Christmas and dragged Nix and Livie into our taxi.
My joints were too rigid for the dancing. I blamed it on spending too much time on a bike.
She blamed it on me being awkward and ‘not letting loose enough’.
When she tried to teach me the dances, I cherished her undivided attention.
And when the slow songs started, I worshipped her body, pressing into her from behind as we swayed.
“I got us a couple’s massage for the morning,” I whispered in her ear.
She breathed in deeply, her hips never stopping in their rotation. “So I get to hear the ungodly noises you make when you get a massage?”
“You could hear those ungodly noises by other means,” I said, trying to shrug off my horny words as if they were nothing.
My favourite hobby might not be bikes anymore. It was winding her up.
She reddened and took my arm, turning to face me.
Was every move she made calculated? In her mind, did she think, ‘this is what I’d do if I loved him. This is where I’d touch him if we were together?’ Or did it come naturally?
“Is that right, Mendes?”
“Mm-hmm.” Her lips had pressed against mine earlier, but so gently, her lipstick hadn’t left a mark.
I wanted to be branded by her.
As my number was still on her ring finger.
When we returned to the hotel, they went straight to their room but we grabbed a drink to take up to ours. We didn’t speak in the lift, the tension between us crackling. If I went to take her hand, I was sure I’d feel the faint buzz of an electric current between our bodies.
She walked ahead, hips swaying in her short dress. Her key card opened the door and she sat on the bed, eyeing me up as I sat in the armchair across from her.
Beside her on the bed was my jacket with my number. She lifted it, stroking the embroidery. It should be on her back. She crossed her tanned, toned legs as she leaned back. “You’re always one away from a 69, aren’t you, Luca?”
My lips turned as I admired my temptress. She bit her lip as she brushed her hair back off her shoulders, showing her cleavage.
