Page 150 of Can't Always Get What You Want

I shiver.

My hands fist in the front of his sweater, pulling him closer as my heart screamsdon’t let me go!but his kiss is already changing.Slower now. Less desperate. Like he’s easing out of something that meant too much and hurt too deeply.

When he finally pulls back, he doesn’t move far. His forehead rests against mine, and I can feel his breath ghost across my cheek.

“I love you,” he whispers.

I don’t say it back.

I can’t.

Not because I don’t feel it—God, Ido—but because the words get stuck in my throat, where they will live in more regret.

He doesn’t react.

Doesn’t flinch or pull away.

Instead of walking out of my apartment, Luca slips his hand into mine and gently tugs me out of my chair.

I follow.

Wordless. Shaking.

He leads me to the living room, past the flickering light from the kitchen and the abandoned bowl of ramen.

He doesn’t say anything as he lowers me onto the couch, careful, like I’m breakable. Like we both are.

Then he lies beside me.

Fully clothed.

Facing me.

And for a long, suspended beat, we just stare at each other. My eyes burn. His are already glassy. His hand finds my hip and rests there, grounding. My fingers trail over the fabric of his sleeve, then up his arms, over his bicep.

When he kisses me again, it’s softer. Slower. A final exhale of something beautiful and bruised. It’s not about claiming or fixing. It’s not even about forgiveness for the mistakes I’ve been making.

It’s abouthaving this.

I love you. His eyes tell me.

The words shoot straight to my heart—words I’ve neverromantically spoken to another human. Repeating them to Luca would be a first.

My lips part.

The words he so desperately wants to hear and that I want to say, hover—trembling, unsaid, suspended in the air between us like the softest truth I’ve never dared to speak aloud.

But before I can get them out?—

The front doorslamsopen.

Loud.

Jarring.

I jolt. Luca flinches.

And then?—

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