“Liam agrees with me that we should get you checked out at urgent care.”
“Well, Liam isn’t a doctor, and he doesn’t get a say in what I’m doing tonight.”
“Dada!” Zeke wiggles out of my hold, and I set him on the ground.
He runs up to Luca and toddles onto the mattress, climbing into Luca’s arms.
“Luca.” I close the distance between us, coming to sit on the mattress, my hand falling gently to Luca’s back, wanting to soothe him.
The moment my fingers graze his skin, he winces.
“Does that hurt?”
“No.” But his eyes tell a different story.
My fingers are featherlight as I move from his back to his stomach, and he flinches with every graze.
It doesn’t appear that it’s solely his stomach causing him discomfort. I lift the hem of his shirt, not sure what I’m expecting to see, but I sure as hell am not anticipating the discoloration, the marks, the imprint of knuckles as I pull my hand back.
Well, it certainly wasn’t a car accident.
“What happened?” I gasp, afraid my touch is hurting him.
“You can’t tell?” He laughs darkly and winces from the pain.
“Did Ashton do this?” My mind reels, trying to understand how they went from best friends to enemies and back to friends again.
They were fighting. Luca hated Ashton a week ago.
“Of course not. He hits like a girl.”
I playfully smack his thigh, which I hope doesn’t hide any bruises.
His nose crinkles, but he doesn’t so much as flinch. “You made my point.”
I lift my arm, snarling as if I’m going to hit him on his chest, and he grabs my wrist, staring at me, daring me to hurt him.
“That’s such an insult, saying someone hits like a girl.”
Luca falls back against the bed, forcing me to lie back with him, my wrist tethered to his hand. He pins my hand above my head.
“Try to hit me now,” he growls into my ear. “I dare you.”
My insides flutter with electricity as I struggle against his grasp. My free hand swings out, and while I don’t intend to hit his chest, I do make it look like I will, and he grabs my free arm, rolling us so I’m fully at his mercy.
“Nice try.” He tsks and there’s a mischievous smile on his face. I haven’t seen that look, that flare of heat, in days, and it warms my cheeks. “See, you and Ashton both hit like a girl.” He keeps me pressed against the bed, his body just inches from mine, the heat melting off him and flowing onto me, warming every inch of me to my core.
“Do you really want to talk about your best friend when we’re doing this?” I lean in, my lips brushing against his. I crave his touch, his breath, his warmth.
His mouth moves hungrily against mine in a frenzy, but his hold on my hands never loosens.
Luca climbs above me, straddling my hips, his weight sinful and making me delirious as he grinds himself into me.
“Fuck, yes.” The words spill out before I realize my mistake.
We’re not alone.
“Dada,” Zeke’s voice chimes out, and I feel his little body clamber onto the mattress, the bed dipping with his swift movements.