“Soyousaid.”
“Get out ofmyway.”
He doesn’t budge. “Why exactly are youleaving?”
“I’m exhausted. I need a shower, a nap, and a glass of wine — not necessarily in that order. And I want to be in my own home, for the remaining few days before I’m physically removed by my landlord, thank youverymuch.”
“Delilah—”
“Luca,” I mimic in a snotty tone. “Move. You can’t keep me captive here forever. I’mgoinghome.”
“How you getting there,exactly?”
Shit.I forgot about my lack of car, phone,andcash.
“I’ll walk,” I saystiffly.
“ToBeaconHill.”
My chin jerkshigher. “Yes.”
“In thatoutfit.”
Double shit.I forgot about the maiduniform.
“Yes,” I snapstubbornly.
He runs a hand through his hair, clearly exasperated with me. Reading the determination on my face, he heaves a heavy sigh and pulls the keys from hispocket.
“Come on, then. I’lldriveyou.”
ChapterSix
Behind every strong girl… is a tribe of other strong girls who proofread her emails really quickly when they have asecond.
Delilah Sinclair, forwarding her resume to her bestfriends.
The tripto my apartment is marked by strainedsilence.
Gone is the playful air of two people who battled over maple syrup, who leapt over couch cushions and nearly kissed in his foyer. We walk in total quiet — two ships sharing the same ocean, buoyed along momentarily by a single current but ultimately destined to go separate ways as soon as the windshifts.
On our way out, Luca grabs a sweatshirt off the hook by the door and passes it to me without a word. Part of me wants to object, just to be obstinate, but the rest of me sincerely wants to avoid being seen in broad daylight dressed like this, so I pull it overmyhead.
It’s laughably large on my frame — practically a dress. Warm and gray, it smells like mint and spice and ever so faintly of sweat. A distinct, delicious combination of aromas I’ve come to associate with onlyoneman.
Luca.
He’s not touching me, hell he isn’t even looking at me as we walk down his hallway toward the elevators, but with his scent enveloping me like a cloud, I feel him everywhere, on every part of my body, like a low-frequency vibration humming through me. Even as I curse myself for being so affected by him, I breathe him in a little more with eachinhale.
I know in a few minutes, we’ll part ways… but I’m filled with the irrational fear that nothing I do will ever rid my senses of his memory. Not completely. That he’ll linger on inside me forever, like some inextinguishable neurotoxin my vital organs can’t filter out, long after he’s left mypresence.
The elevator descends at an achingly slow pace down the five floors to the street. I stare pointedly at the button panel instead of the man by my side. I don’t need to look at him to hear his words still ringing in my ears, haunting me despite my best attempts to shakethemoff.
You push away any guy who attempts to figure you out, because you’re afraid of what might happen if he really got to know you. The real you, not the carefree girl you pretendtobe.
I can’t act like those words didn’t hit a little too close to their intended target, just as I can’t pretend I don’t care that he sees straight through my cool-girl act, in a way no one else in my life has ever really managed to. I tell myself I shouldn’t give a crap what Luca thinks about me, that his opinion shouldn’t matter, that I barely even knowtheguy…
But you want to,an annoying internal voice whispers to me.Maybe that’s theproblem.