Page 63 of Savior

I shake my head at myself as a knock sounds on the bathroom door.

I sigh.

I knew he had a key.

“I just wanted to make sure you were alright,” Luca says from through the wooden barrier.

Of course he did. He’s good at the very root of him. Through and through, the man is a saint, and I’ve spent my days here tainting him—ruining him.

With Sloane Collins at the steering wheel, his fall from grace will be fantastic.

Guilt swarms in my belly again as I shut off the shower and wrap in a towel.

I open the door, still dripping from head to toe, and Luca looks me up and down.

“I’m fine.”

He worries his bottom lip, which sets off a cacophony of fluttering butterflies in my stomach. “I see that. I just wanted to… I don’t know. I just needed to know you were alright.”

I nod, pushing past him. As his arm brushes mine, I have to bite my lip to not moan at the tingle it sends through me.

“Look, I’m sorry for how I behaved. It’s just…”

I turn around, pinning him with a glare as water slides down my spine. “I understand who you are, what happened between us, and how huge it is. I’m sorry I let it go so far,” I tell him.

He cups the back of his neck, looking down as he shakes his head. “You shouldn’t have had to stop it. I should’ve known better.”

The implication that I’m too young to know better pisses me off, anger raging through me in a flash. “I’m old enough to know when I’m making a mistake, Luca. Thank you very much. It won’t happen again. You and me, well, we just can’t be. I understand that now. It was just this situation, and your saving me; I think it went to my head.”

Me playing it off as such seems to have him less rigid, as though my admittance makes more sense than my wanting him.

Which I do.

Fuck, I want him so badly. There’s something about him that contrasts the world I grew up in. Sure, he’s a little softer than the men I’m used to dealing with, but I find it’s bringing out a new side of me I love. I feel different with him.

But he’s off limits.

“If the church found out what happened…” he trails off, shamefully bowing.

“They won’t find out from me,” I tell him, clutching the towel tighter.

He still stands here, meaning he’s decided to test his will. I’m nude beneath the towel, and he wants to see if he can withstand me.

“Sloane, if I were any other man, I would be good for you.” He shakes his head as he steps closer to me.

I’m rooted to the floor. My feet shift slightly on the cold wood as he approaches, cupping my face in his hand.

I’m transported back to the dark of the confessional, his touch on me, and heat stirs all over again.

It’s as if fate is testing us. Or God himself. I’ve never felt such an astounding pull to be with anyone. And I have to wonder if I think this way because he’s off-limits.

Maybe it’s because I know I’m safe with him and that he has boundaries.

“Luca,” I whisper, closing my eyes. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

The air between us crackles with energy as he rests his forehead against mine.

We stay there, breathing in the attraction between us to stay alive—like its essence feeds our fucked-up souls, and neither of us says a word.

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