Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 102607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
I smile so hard my cheeks hurt. “Life is full of surprises.”
Gio’s eyes narrow.
No one speaks for a beat too long. I can feel the tension radiating off my brother like steam from a pressure cooker.
“So…” he says, shifting his takeout bag to the other hand. “You bumped into each other. And decided to sit. At the bar. Together.”
“Exactly.” I’m glad he understands.
“Right next to each other.”
“Yup.”
“With your knees touching.”
“Oh my God—Gio.” I force out a laugh that sounds totally unhinged. “Don’t be weird!”
“I’m not being weird. You’re being weird.”
“I’m being generous. And kind. By bringing you food.”
“Have you ordered anything yet?”
“I was about to.” Which technically, isn’t a lie. I grab a menu and thrust it between us. “See?”
My brother’s stare bores into my soul.
I pray he’s not doing that twin thing where he can read my mind, too.
Shit.
SHIT, SHIT DOUBLE SHIT.
Luca jumps in—finally—with the calm of a man who’s been through actual playoff pressure. “I was here first. Nova sat down while she waited for her order. We were just talking.”
Gio’s gaze shifts to Luca, narrowing like a laser. “Talking.”
“Yup,” Luca says smoothly. “About hockey. I get excited after a win. I was telling her about that second goal. The Skaggs fake.”
He had told me that; right after I wanted to crawl into his lap and lick the sweat off his neck like my margarita glass.
No one moves.
Gio shifts his weight and crosses his arms. His takeout bag rustles ominously. “So, you were already here when she walked in?”
Luca nods. “Yup.”
“At the bar?”
“Yup.”
“By yourself.”
My non-date nods again. “Watching the game recap on the TV behind the bar like a loser. Single and alone.”
Jesus Christ.
Way to stab me in the heart, knife twisting me in the gut.
I laugh obnoxiously, smacking him on the back.
Gio is still watching us like we’re about to burst into flames. “You two just seem awfully cozy for two people who randomly ran into each other.”
My brother is like a dog with a bone, bearing down. “Cozy? Look around you.”
People everywhere. Packed house. Tables full. Waitstaff bobbing and weaving like they're in a combat zone.
“So many open seats,” I continue, gesturing around theatrically. “Clearly I had so many options.”
Luca adds with an expressionless shrug, “I was here. She walked in. Happy coincidence. End of story.”
I feel horrible.
But it works. Somehow, impossibly, Gio exhales like he’s choosing not to engage any further. “Fine. Whatever. I’m not going to argue with you.”
I agree. He shouldn’t argue with me.
Then, mercifully, my brother checks the gold Rolex encircling his wrist. “I should probably get this food home. Austin’s starving and Vivian was having a meltdown when I checked in.”
Gio’s gaze flickers to Luca, then back to me. “Are you still planning on coming over?”
And just like that, we’re back in dangerous waters.
My stomach twists violently. I open my mouth to respond, stalling because there isn’t an actual answer. I’d lied to his face. Lied to Luca, too. I don’t want to drive to his house tonight. I never intended to.
Luca doesn’t even look at me—but the tightness in his body sharpens again. His knee nudges mine like a silent warning: Choose your words carefully.
So I do.
“If you want,” I offer, all faux-bright and bubbly. “I was going to bring food.”
Beside me, Luca doesn’t twitch. Doesn’t exhale. Just sips from his drink.
“Don’t bother,” Gio says, distracted now as he checks his phone. “It’s fine—it’s late. We don’t have enough food for three people anyway.”
It’s not fine.
It’s absolutely not fine.
“Text me next time,” he tells me.
“I will.” I stand to hug him, wrapping my arms around my brother’s neck, standing on my tiptoes to do so. “I’ll probably hang around with him if he doesn’t mind.” I nod my head toward Luca. “Little sisters and all that.”
“You’re not little and you’re not his sister.”
Don’t I know it…
“Obviously not,” I say with a twinkly laugh, pretending to tease. “But someone has to keep him humble.”
Luca, to his credit, doesn’t so much as twitch. Doesn’t glance at me or fumble the lie we’ve silently agreed to maintain. But I can see it simmering.
The tension in his shoulders.
The tightness in his jaw. The slight flare of his nostrils.
There’s a tic in his temple, pulsing faintly.
His hands, relaxed on the bar seconds ago, have stilled.
Luca was right.
I am so much trouble.
28
luca
Nova is correct.
She humbled me.
This tops the most humiliating evenings of my life.
And that includes the time I accidentally tucked the back of my jersey into my hockey pants during a televised game, skated around with my number wedged into my ass crack, and didn’t notice until it was all over TikTok.
That? That was funny.
This?
This is something else entirely.
Because tonight, it wasn’t strangers laughing. It was her pretending I wasn’t sitting beside her.
“Ouch,” I say at last, pushing my drink to the middle of the bar top, no longer thirsty. Or in the mood. “That wasn’t fun.”