There's something unfair about Luca being this close.
He takes up space differently than other people.
Like the air around him belongs to him.
Right now he's standing barely a foot away.
And my brain is struggling to remember basic things like breathing normally.
"Do you regret it?" he asks suddenly.
"What?"
"The kiss."
My stomach tightens.
Because the honest answer is complicated.
"No," I say finally.
His shoulders relax slightly.
"But," I add quickly.
"There's a but."
"There's always a but."
I study him for a moment.
"You have a reputation."
He sighs.
"Everyone keeps saying that."
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"Is it true?"
His expression changes slightly.
Not defensive.
Just… guarded.
"Sometimes," he admits.
That honesty surprises me.
"You're not denying it."
"No point."
He steps closer.
And suddenly we're standing so close our shoes are almost touching.
"Still here though," he says quietly.
"Still figuring you out."
His fingers brush a strand of hair away from my face.
The touch sends a spark straight through me.
"Take your time," he murmurs.
Then he adds softly,
"I'm not going anywhere."