Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 97767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Luca: I’ll let it slide. For now. But only because you’re cute.
Me: CUTE?
Luca: Sorry. I meant smoking hot. You’re a real smoke show, Nova Montagalo.
My stomach does a stupid little flip, and I glance over at Gio the dog, who’s now awake and staring at me like he can sense my internal chaos.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I mutter, setting the phone down on the couch for a second. “Stop judging me, Gio is not going to find out about this.”
This…
Is dangerous.
Luca is way too easy to talk to. And way too good for my peace of mind.
I pick the phone back up, staring at the chat. Should I keep going? Let this conversation turn into something, even though it’ll probably end in disaster? Or should I delete the chat right now and save myself the headache?
Gio yawns as if to say, You’re overthinking this, idiot.
I glance at Luca’s profile again, lingering on the easy smile in one of his photos. This doesn’t have to mean anything, right? It’s harmless flirting.
But now I know he thinks I’m smoking hot.
I bite back a grin, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. Flirting with Luca Babineaux feels like walking into a trap I can totally see coming—and yet, here I am, taking another step forward.
Me: You think I’m a smoke show? Sounds like you’re starting to have a thing for me, Babineaux.
I tease.
Okay FINE.
I’ll admit it, I’m fishing for compliments. Are you happy now?!
Luca: Starting to? You’re funny. I’ve had a thing for you for years…
My jaw drops.
“WHAT?” I blurt out, scaring the shit out of the dog, settling back onto his blanket with a huff. He hates me.
The dog, not Luca.
Apparently.
I stare at the screen, reading and rereading the message at least three times to make sure I didn’t hallucinate it.
Years?
Since when!?
My thumbs hover over the keyboard, but for the first time all night, I have no idea what to say. My brain is too busy replaying every interaction I’ve ever had with Luca, searching for clues I clearly didn’t pick up on.
Did he flirt with me at that team dinner last year? Was he staring at me too long during Gio’s birthday party?
No. Surely not.
Right?
My stomach does a somersault, and I press a hand to my chest, trying to calm the sudden thudding of my heart, this new revelation sending me.
My phone pings again, pulling me out of my spiral.
Luca: Still there? Or did I scare you off?
Me: Scared? Please. It takes more than that to scare me.
The dots pop up immediately, and I swear my heart skips a beat.
Luca: Good. Coz I’ve got plenty more to say…
Oh, God.
I glance at Gio the dog, who’s now staring at me with those big, judgmental eyes. “What do I do?” I whisper, holding the phone up for guidance. “Little dude, help!”
Me: More to say? Do go on.
Sorry. I had to ask.
I’m a thirsty bitch, what can I say…
This is bad. Dangerous. Completely reckless.
But damn if it isn’t fun.
Luca: I have 8 words for you, Nova.
He makes me wait, not giving them to me.
Me: What 8 words?
I am holding my breath.
Luca: I want you, if only for one night.