The bed was too big without him, the sheets too cold. Flashbacks to before I knew what Luca was hit me hard. I’d spent a lot of nights alone leading up to our breakup. Nights I worried he was cheating or hurt. But now I knew the truth, and the fear that he could be hurt, maybe even killed, was no longer this intangible idea. It was real. Hell, I’d held him after he was shot.
Worry coiled in my stomach, weighing me down until it became apparent I wasn’t going to sleep. How was I supposed to sleep when Luca was out in the world with people that wanted him dead?
Not able to fight it anymore, I texted him.
SASHA:I love you. Be safe.
Three dots appeared immediately.
LUCA:I love you. I’ll be home soon.
He wasn’t, and I eventually fell asleep alone.
SIX
Naughty Gras should be the happiest time of the year. Instead of frolicking through erotic art, trying on handmade corsets, and watching a flogging down in the dungeon, I was pouting at the makeup table backstage.
“I take it you and Luca are still fighting?” Jazz glanced over at me as she waited for her eyelash glue to get tacky.
“Yep.” I rearranged my lipsticks, pretending to be busy.
“Must be rough to work together when you’re in a fight.”
“It’s not great, but I wouldn’t even call this a fight.”
“What is it then?”
“A cold war.”
Jazz laughed. “You’re so fucking dramatic.”
“Maybe.”
She turned in her chair and bumped my knee. “You want to tell me why you’re fighting?”
I absolutely did but couldn’t. There was no way in hell I was endangering one of my best friends. But maybe I could give her the watered-down version. “I ran into Dimitri, and we chatted.” Not a complete lie, but not the whole truth either.
“Okay? You’re friends. Maybe not as good as before, but still friends.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. “Luca doesn’t like him. Their families have beef, and it doesn’t help Luca thinks Dimitri’s in love with me.”
“Well, he is.”
My jaw dropped. Was everyone right? Had I missed the signs?
Jazz tilted her head. “You’re serious. You never realized the Greek playboy was in love with you?”
“No?”
She laughed loudly in my face. “The worst part is you’re serious.”
“This whole thing makes my head hurt. How did we go from being friends that fucked to him loving me? He’s marrying Daphne,” who’s a cop, “and has never said a damn word.”
“When would he have said something? And why would he? Before and after Luca, you were the queen of fuck girls. And I say that with all due respect, your highness.” She bowed her head, and the glitter stuck in her curls sparkled in the flashing light coming through the curtains.
I sucked my teeth. Jazz was right, and I hated that there was yet another weird layer to all the bullshit.
“Was that it?”