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I’m beginning to understand his dry sense of humor, and it pulls a smile out of me. “Nothing else. He rarely talked about you, but he had to explain that photo of him with a kid. Anyway” —I clap my hands once and clasp them together— “what is it you really do?”
“It’s not something I want to talk about.”
I grin. “Okayyy, but I have to warn you. I have this uncanny ability to coax stories and secrets from people.”
Maybe I’m imagining it, but the side of his mouth lifts ever so slightly, amusement passing his features as quickly as it came. “You mean to torture information out of me?”
“If it comes to that.”
“Good luck.”
The smile playing on his lips is so unexpected that I beam back at him. I’m not the type who feels at ease with people I’ve just met, but talking to Luca is like chatting with someone I’ve known for a long, long time. It’s probably a few minutes that we stand there like that, facing each other, amusement on our faces.
The silence between us stretches on until the smiles begin to feel awkward, and the air between us thickens.
Luca is no longer smiling as he casts a long look at my mouth before swiping the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip. My hand grips the cotton fabric of my dress.
I’m aware I don’t look much. My own mother used to tease me about looking frumpy whenever I left the house. I don’t disagree.
I was born with generous curves—size 36C coupled with wide hips and a big ass. I once wore a tight-fitting dress, and Mom laughed at my “lovely but pathetic attempt to seduce boys”, even though that was never my intention. I never forgot that, and so I always made it a point to wear shapeless clothes that take away the attention from my figure.
As a guidance counselor, I want everyone to take me seriously at my job, and the last thing I need is men ogling me as I work.
In front of Luca, however, I might as well have been naked. With the way he rakes his hot gaze up and down my body, it’s as if he’s peeling one layer of clothing at a time.
I shouldn’t like it, but I do.
God knows I do.
Even if it’s wrong because he’s my stepbrother, and he’s supposed to be family.
And yet.
Girl, this isn’t the time.
I pull myself together since I still need to process everything that happened today. Besides, it’s been a long day at work, and I’m fighting just to stay awake. “Okay, then. Goodnight, Luca. See you in the morning.”
I’m halfway to the stairs when he calls out, “I haven’t decided if I’m staying.”
I cast him a smile over my shoulder. “Oh, we both know you are.”
I wakeup to the feel of a huge hand over my mouth. Awareness comes in slow degrees, and in between sleep and full wakefulness, my stomach coils in a knot, unease prickling over my skin. Without knowing what’s happening, my gut flutters with fear and alarm.
My instinct is to scream and shove whoever it is away, but an urgent voice breaks through the fear and panic clouding my mind. “Quiet, Lila. It’s just me.”
Everything around me is pitch black, and it takes a few seconds to realize why there’s another man in the house who’s not my stepfather. My eyes strain against the darkness, trying to make sense of the shadows in the room.
A massive figure stands by the bed, hunched over.
Luca.
What is he doing? What’s going on?
“I need you to listen to me,” he says in a rush, voice low and quiet. “There are men downstairs, so you have to be quiet. I will protect you, but you need to help me.”
My eyes widen, fear climbing the back of my throat. Men? Are they here for Phillip? Or will they take whoever’s available? What do they want? How many are there? Can Luca fight them all off?
“Come on, Lila. Stay with me.” His face is closer now. “I’m going to take off my hand, but you won’t scream, okay? Stay quiet.”
