Shaking my head at the madness, I slip back inside the back room where Luca is waiting. I move in silence, not wanting to disturb his pre-fight ritual. Zoe told me he likes to be alone before a bout, to keep his head totallyclear.
He’s sitting on a bench, head bowed, eyes closed, elbows resting on his knees. I don’t make a sound, but he senses my presence. He reaches out blindly and grabs my wrist, tugging me around to stand in front of him. His forehead presses against my stomach and I run my fingers through his short cropofhair.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” I whisper, feeling like I’ve infringed on a sacredspace.
“You’re not.” He breathes me in with deepinhales. “Ever.”
“I know you like to bealone.”
“That was before.” His eyes lift to mine. “Things aredifferentnow.”
My brows go up. “Ohyeah?”
“Yeah. Not saying I want just anyone back here with me, screwing up my energy, messing with my head.” He shrugs. “You, I don’t mind. You don’t steal air from the room, Delilah. You breathe lifeintoit.”
My heartflips.
“It’s crazy out there,youknow.”
“Alwaysis.”
My eyes start stinging. “Is it lame if I admit I’m worriedaboutyou.”
“Very.” He pushes to his feet, so he’s towering over me. His hands, wrapped with fighting tape, brush a rogue tear from my cheek. “Don’t worry, Delilah. Not goinganywhere.”
“Stuck withyou,huh?”
Henods.
“Never should’ve let you pick me up from jail,” Itease.
“Oh, bailing you out wasn’t the night I decided to pursue you,” he sayscasually.
“What? What doyoumean?”
He shrugs. “After the bachelorette party, when I carried you home and tucked you into bed, wasted on tequila and half asleep in my arms… you did something that made me realize I wasn’t gonna spend another day without you inmylife.”
My heart is pounding. “Andthatwas…?”
“Rapped every lyric toJuicyby Biggie Smalls when it came on theradio.”
I smack his arm. “Ididnot!”
“Oh, you did. I havevideos.”
“LucaBuchanan!”
He’s grinning. “I’mkidding.”
I blow out a relieved breath. (Prematurely, itturnsout.)
“Oh, not about the videos. I’m keeping those until I die.” He laughs. “Just about what you did that made me want youasmine.”
I smack him again. “Tellme.”
His eyes soften. “We pulled up outside your place… you looked over at me with those big, beautiful brown eyes of yours already half-closed… and, very simply, in a slurred voice, you murmured… ‘If I ever decide to let someone break my heart, I want it to be you, Luca Buchanan.’” He bumps his nose against mine. “One sentence. I was a totalgoner.”
A tear escapes the corner of my eye. “Drunk Lila is a real blabbermouth. I need to have a stern wordwithher.”