Page 38 of Can't Always Get What You Want

“Stop it right now. You should have told me that.”

“Told you what? ‘Hey, I thought you were hot and asked your brother if you were single and instead of being cool about it, he tried to injure me at the rink?” Luca snorts. “That makes him sound psychotic.”

“Indeed it does.”

We order drinks—and a starter to share— and Luca observes me from across the table with a soft expression. “It’s not difficult to overlook through when you’re interested in someone.”

Oh.

Okay.

Wasn’t ready for that.

Definitely should’ve braced myself.

“So Nova. Tell me—what’s the real reason we’re here?” he asks.

“I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean—I thought it was obvious.” My eyes pointedly rest on our yellow and brown spotted cup.

Luca watches me several seconds before his head tilts back and he laughs. “You’re so fucking cute, do you know what? Like you came here for this.” He nods to the cup. “And not to discuss the terms.”

“Discuss the terms?” I have no idea what he’s talking about. “Terms of what?”

“Us.”

Abort mission.

Do not engage in emotionally vulnerable conversation!

“Us? There is no us.”

“Hmmm.” He rubs his chin. “Isn’t there?”

I thought we were here to flirt over appetizers and sharecustody of a cup with cartoon animals? I wasn’t planning on this buzzing in my chest when he looks at me like he has a secret.

I wasn’t planning on that little whisper in the back of my brain that’s saying: you like him, Nova. You really, really like him.

Crap.

My heart does a somersault.

I hate it. I love it.

I hate that I love it.

I open my mouth to scoff. To tell him he’s being ridiculous—‘cause that’s what Nova Montagalo does to men.

I dodge. I deflect. I am the damn queen of sarcasm and avoidance!

Luca leans toward me, resting his arms on the table and I literally have to peel my eyes off his muscular forearms.

“You’re right. There is no official us.” He clears his throat. “But I think about you more than I probably should. And when I see your name in my phone, it’s the best part of my day. So, if you want to pretend this isn’t something and there is no us—fine. I’ll play along.”

His gaze meets mine, steady. Warm. Unshakable.

“But I’m not going anywhere.”

Oh.

---