Page 82 of The Temptation
Because it will end.
And it’s imperative that she can walk away whole when it’s all said and done.
Her breathing has remained steady ever since I opened my eyes, slow and even, so I know she’s still asleep, which is perfect.
Stealthy exits are my specialty. I’ve woken up more times than I can count after a night of heavy drinking, onlyto find myself in some less-than-ideal situation, lying next to someone whose name I don’t even remember.
Last night, I had one drink with dinner. No blackout, no regrets. And Lucia Rossi—or should I say, Lucia De Luca—isn’t like any of the others from my past.
She towers above them all. But if I’m going to keep myself out of precarious situations like this one, then I’m going to have to rely on some old tactics.
I slowly lift my arm, which is currently anchored around her tiny waist, and carefully lift the covers so the fabric doesn’t rustle too loudly. Her breathing doesn’t change.
One leg slips out, then the other. I shift my weight to the edge of the mattress, easing myself up inch by inch, bracing with my hands so the bed doesn’t creak beneath me. I move like a thief. Silent, calculated, and rehearsed.
Her face remains turned towards the pillow. Her lips are slightly parted, and her long, dark hair drapes across the sheets like spilled ink.
I pause for just a second longer than I should, letting my eyes linger on her. She’s peaceful, unaware, and far too beautiful for her own good. I rise to my feet and begin the quiet retreat, one agonising step at a time.
I don’t stop until I’m safely out of the room. It’s only once the door clicks softly shut behind me that I finally let myself breathe again.
I head straight for the shower, because if I don’t get rid of this boner, I’m afraid I’ll be walking around with it all day.
I slip out the back door without being noticed. As soon as Killer spots me, he bolts across the backyard like a missile.
“Morning, boy,” I say, crouching down as he barrels into me, tail wagging like he’s been waiting for this moment all morning.
I ruffle the fur at the nape of his neck, and he leans into it, tongue lolling, eyes bright with that uncomplicated kind of joy only dogs seem to master.
For a moment, everything feels simple again.
I miss that feeling. I miss the way things used to be before life got so damn complicated. Before it turned into something I barely recognise.
After giving Killer the attention he deserves, I pull my phone from my pocket and scroll for Dante’s number. I need to check in. I miss my best friend more than I care to admit.
This morning, I lingered in the shower longer than necessary, only stepping out when the water turned cold. I was stalling, and thankfully, it paid off. By the time I walked back into my room, towel slung low on my hips, Lucia was already gone.
Once I got dressed, I could hear her moving around in the kitchen. That’s when I came out here.
I’ll have to face her eventually, sooner rather than later if I plan on eating. I’ll head back inside once I’ve spoken to Dante.
I click on his number, and he picks up after a few rings. “Romeo,” he says.
“Hey.”
“Everything alright?”
“Yeah, just thought I’d check in. I didn’t get to speak to you yesterday.”
“I was going to call you, but I didn’t get home until late.”
“Business or pleasure?” I find myself asking as my stomach churns.
“I got one of the guys to make that call to that number on the flyer.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “And?”
“The dumb fuck fell right into our hands.”
