Page 16 of Weaponized

Luca’s head spins to look at him. “Fuck off, McGuiness,” he snarls. Liam frowns in response but doesn’t turn away. I can tell this pisses Luca off.

I’m so absorbed in watching Luca shoot daggers at Liam that I don’t notice when his arm moves around the back of my chair. It’s when Liam’s eyes widen and his eyebrows shoot upward at the possessive move that I notice something has changed. I can feel the heat radiating off Luca as he glares downward. I do what feels natural and lean in. Mmmmmm, he smells of laundry detergent and toothpaste.

Luca’s breath catches when my shoulder brushes against him. He quits staring at Liam and looks over to me. I have no idea what to say, so I just smile at him. He’s so good-looking. Rather than smile back, his nostrils flare. I’m trying to think of something to say—something cute or interesting—when the class starts. This doesn’t seem to matter to the big guy next to me, because he hasn’t looked away.

I nudge him with my elbow and, when he looks confused, I nod toward the front of the class. He shifts in his seat to obey my silent command,but we stay in place. His arm rests behind me and my shoulder is pressed into his side.

I realize how odd this is. Despite what Liam thinks, Luca and I aren’t together. We haven’t kissed. We haven’t even had a real conversation. Nonetheless, here we sit, cozied up in the middle of the lecture hall and I have no desire to move. If the professor also finds it odd, she doesn’t comment.

When the class comes to an end, Liam doesn’t stick around. In fact, he doesn’t even turn around to look at us.

Luca stands and holds out his hand to help me up from my seat. I smile at him, finish packing up my bag, and then offer him my hand in return. We hold hands on our way out, and I like that this is becoming a habit. It’s weird, sure. I like it anyway.

I don’t want to let him go when we reach the door, so I turn toward him and get a little too close when I say quietly, “I’m going to get a coffee if you want to come.” He swallows and gives me a jerky nod in return.

Okay, so Luca Larozzi is not a man of many words. We walk across campus still holding hands and I don’t miss the looks we get along the way. Luca doesn’t seem to notice. Every time I look at him, he’s fully fixated on me.

He holds the door open for me as we enter the shop. I swear, all of the chatter comes to a complete halt when everyone sees us together. Luca pays them no attention as he gently pulls me into the line with him.

I’m used to people looking at me. It’s been that way my entire life. I’ve made peace with it, knowing the veneer is what pulls them in. However, right now, here with Luca,I’m mildly uncomfortable when I notice the room has remained completely quiet. It’s as if people are afraid to speak.

“Matteo told me there is a party at your house this weekend,” I tell him, past the point of waiting for him to say something.

Luca nods, acknowledging my statement.

“He invited me.” I look up into his navy eyes and finally see them flicker.

“Did he?” His tone is low, much quieter than the voice I was using. I don’t like this. He’s offered no invitation of his own, no indication he cares if I come or not. I pull my hand from his. This gains his attention. He looks at me as if I just robbed him. Agitated.

I shrug. “I don’t have to come.”

Unfortunately, the pimple-faced kid from the other day decides this is the right time to call us up to his open register. He’s back to asking for our order while looking at my boobs.

“Two large black coffees,” Luca says tersely. He remembered. “And if you want to keep your eyeballs, you’ll raise them.”

I draw in a breath. I didn’t expect that. Honestly, I think this kid has more trouble making eye contact than anything else. I don’t get the impression he’s a pervert.

“Luca,” I chastise between clenched teeth.

He ignores me as he pays the shaking cashier for our drinks before handing mine over. I am officially perturbed. Normally, I don’t mind being proactive when I want something. I have no trouble making the first move. However, I have never experienced something like this.

We hold hands. So weird. I can’t recall holding hands with other guys before.I’m probably crazy, but I view that as a “coupley” thing to do. Luca also buys me coffee and threatens people for looking at me wrong. But he hasn’t asked me out. Heck, he hasn’t even asked for my number.What the hell is happening here?

I’m the one who sat by him in class. I’m also the one who first took his hand a couple days ago. Though he passively placed his arm across the back of my chair in class today, I’m the one who snuggled against him. I’m also the one who just invited him for coffee, and the one who didn’t let go of his hand when he helped me up in the lecture hall. He is supposed to be participating by now. Actively. Maybe I’m playing this all wrong. The issue is: I’m not playing.

Look, I want to make sure I am able to attract at least one of the four guys my father has identified for me. I need to be seen out because I am 100 percent certain that Seamus or someone else on my father’s payroll is watching me. I am experienced enough with how my father operates. I’m also smart enough to know that I’ve become a bit too invested in the outcome with Luca. While I should feel a sense of success that he is paying me attention in public, I’m not at all pleased with how this is unfolding.

Unfortunately, while things may be headed in the right direction, and likely will appease whomever my father has watching, it’s not nearly enough for me. What I want is for this six-foot-six lug to actually want me. Desperately. I know better. I shouldn’t have any personal feelings about him at all. I tell myself that I don’t actually care about him. My pride is just hurt. That must be it. I give a long-suffering sigh and tell Luca that I should get going. I need to regroup. Figure out my next step.He looks absolutely perplexed by this turn of events.

“Is everything okay?” he rumbles.

No. Everything is not okay. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“I think I upset you, but I’m not sure how.”

How about you ask me out? Or, I don’t know, at least suggest we go somewhere and sit down with our coffee? Or, better yet, how about I quit being such a damn girl and get over this stupid sensation that feels awfully close to infatuation. I need to focus. “No, really, I’m okay. I’m going to head off though. Thanks for the coffee.” I raise the cup at him and leave. I shake my ass a little on the way out. Let him see what he’s missing by not asking me out.

I’m out of sorts that entire evening, and then again on Friday. I can’t seem to let go of the fact that he hasn’t found my number and reached out. I admit I even mildly flirted with Theo Nicopolis in my business ethics class right after coffee with Luca, because I needed to see if I still have what it takes to get a guy interested. Spoiler alert: I do. Theo asked for my number and what I’m doing this weekend. So, why doesn’t Luca want me the same way?

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