Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
I waited for him to accept my invitation, but he left it hanging. “That’s not what I want with you.”
The rejection stung, but then I wondered if it was a rejection at all, perhaps a sign of respect…or affection…or something instead.
He rolled on top of me, and his lips found my neck, kissing my throat and my jawline until his mouth drifted to mine. He kissed me hard then soft before he folded me underneath him, taking me the same way he’d already taken me twice that day, face-to-face.
We had dinner together at Robert et Louise and then walked down the road until we arrived at a courtyard with several businesses, people sitting outside cafés and enjoying their drinks and cigarettes. REŸS was there, a gelateria that I’d visited before. “Ooh, can we stop here?”
“Sure.”
I absent-mindedly circled his arm with mine as we walked inside, as if he’d offered it to me.
He didn’t pull away or look uncomfortable at the touch.
“The Indian Wedding sounds good.”
He waited in line with me, and when we got to the front, he ordered for me. “Medium Indian Wedding.” He paid in cash.
“You aren’t going to get anything?”
He ignored the question.
They handed me the gelato, and we found a seat outside, the night surprisingly warm, spring almost arrived.
He pulled a cigar from somewhere and lit up at the table, preferring smoke to sugar. He took a long drag and let it sit in his mouth as he stared across the crowd, his mind seeming to be elsewhere as he let the smoke absorb on his tongue. Then he let it out slowly, like a morning London fog.
He rarely smoked around me.
“Thank you for dinner. And this too.”
He lounged in the chair, arms crossed with his cigar hanging between his lips. To someone else, he might seem annoyed or uncooperative, but I knew that was just how he was. He didn’t need conversation to feel fulfilled, and he enjoyed the silence as much as the conversation. He didn’t quite seem like an introvert, just someone who didn’t need communication, unlike me.
I enjoyed my gelato, but he seemed to enjoy his cigar a lot more. Took his time with it, let it burn and burn, the tip glowing closer to his mouth.
“My father used to smoke cigars. Whenever I smell them, I think of him.”
He stared at me.
“Mom always hated them.”
He pulled it out of his mouth for the first time. “I can put it out if it bothers you.”
“No, no, no,” I said quickly. “It’s a happy memory.” I continued to eat my gelato until there was nothing left, just some liquid that had melted before I could reach it with my spoon. “Like this is a happy memory.”
His eyes focused on mine. “The present can’t be a memory.”
“Yeah, but it will be.” The odds of this working out and lasting forever were low. Luca was more than I’d thought he would be, but there was no way I would be so lucky to have him forever. It would just be for a time, until a deeper commitment became too much, until he realized monogamy wasn’t that fulfilling. I wouldn’t let the fear of the end ruin the joy of the beginning, so I didn’t put much time into it.
But he continued to stare at me.
“This has been the best weekend of my life in almost ten years.” The last time life was this good was when I had a family. When we were home together over the Christmas holidays, my sister playing piano in the main room while my father smoked in front of the fire.
He let smoke release from his mouth.
I loved my new job and should be excited to go to work, but I didn’t want tomorrow to come and go. Didn’t want the new week to start. Didn’t want to go five days without looking at this gorgeous man in front of me. When he was asleep or focused on his phone, I snapped a photo of him. Something to look at when I was up late in bed, unable to sleep. Something to remind myself that this was all real, not some fantasy I conjured.
His phone must have vibrated in his pocket many times because he dug it out, glanced at the name on the screen with a quiet sigh of irritation, and answered fast. He didn’t say a word, but it was clear that whoever called knew Luca was there.
Luca listened, eyes hard. “How did they find out?”
I couldn’t hear the person on the other line.
“Alright, I’ll handle it.” He hung up then fired off a text. “Come on.”
I left my seat and tossed my cup in the trash.
He walked to the road, and a moment later, his driver pulled up in the SUV. “I’ll see you later.”
“Later?” I asked.
“I have to take care of this.” He opened the back door for me.