Blue Roses(37)

I pull the jeans off his other leg and check the pocket.

“Your heart.” I hold the tiny charm he gave me once, then took away.

“It’s yours now,” he says.

“Maybe I don’t want it. You know what? That was really mean when you gave it to me, then took it back.”

“It was just a joke.” He looks away, frowning. “I was going to give it back, but then I missed my chance. I missed my chance every day.”

“What are you saying?” I pull back, resting on my knees on the sofa, one arm coming up to cover my chest. “Have you been thinking about me this whole time?”

“I never stopped thinking about you,” he says. “But I’m stubborn. Listen, if you won’t take me back, I understand. I wouldn’t take me back either, because the truth is… if I hadn’t gotten hurt last night, and hadn’t gone to the hospital, and hadn’t realized how bad I needed you, I don’t know if I would have ever found my way back to you.”

“Don’t talk like that.” I shake my head, fighting back tears again.

“My father never remarried. He’d meet someone, and they’d go on five, maybe six dates, and then they’d have one fight and it would be over. I learned to not get attached.”

“You’re making me sad.”

“I’m so glad I broke my foot. A broken foot is nothing, compared to me ruining my life by being too damn stubborn to see what’s good for me.”

I turn and look down at the cast on his foot.

“Luca, I’m as much to blame as you are. I pushed you away when you were willing to talk. And then I sent you those flowers, and didn’t go to your party. I didn’t think I was good enough for you.”

I look down at my bare knees, feeling more naked than I’ve ever been in my life.

“But you’re perfect,” he says.

“Perfectly awful.” I grin at him.

“However it happened, we have a second chance,” he says. “From now on, we don’t walk away mad. Not ever.”

I widen my eyes and whisper-yell, “SORRY I’M A JERK.”

He grins, and also whisper-yells, “SORRY I’M A BIG, TALL JERK.”

I’m still clutching the heart in my fingers. He takes the tiny charm from me and sets it carefully on the side table.

“Be gentle with my heart,” he says.

I take him by the shoulders and push him onto his back, then I help him straighten his legs out on the cushions. I grab a soft pillow to prop up his cast, and then I start kissing him, starting at the top of the cast and working my way up.

I take a few detours, and circle back, kissing and licking some of the areas that I’ve been missing the most over the past few months.

He’s very responsive to my touch, occasionally groaning about the slow torture, while pleading me to never stop.

We both get hotter and hotter, until he grabs for one of the packets and gets ready. I climb on, cowgirl style, and show him how gentle and loving I can be, and then how wild.

His body is my playground. I run my hands over his chiseled chest and abs. I lean forward and grab his biceps, pretending to hold him down.

I grind myself against him, making up for lost time.

I catch him staring up at me.

Breathing heavily, I ask, “Want to switch and get on top?”

“I’m enjoying the view too much. Plus the cast makes things awkward.”

I slow down to a standstill. “Oh, your poor foot. Is this bad?”

His eyes go wide. “Don’t stop! You were making me feel better than Vicodin.”

He runs his hands up the tops of my thighs, then rakes down with his hard fingernails, lightly scratching my skin.

I moan and grip him tightly within me.

He closes his eyes and rocks his hips, encouraging me to keep going.

I plant my palms across his wide, hard chest and let myself go. My body knows how I want him, and it matches how he wants me.

When I’m nearing my peak, I open my eyes and spot the heart charm on the side table. The sun is streaming in the windows, and the heart is gleaming like a diamond.

I close my eyes and give myself to Luca.





Chapter 24


I think I’m happy, but maybe it’s just physical.

I love waking up in Luca’s arms. We’ve been back together for two weeks now, and it’s heaven. He’s so soft and furry. Plus he purrs.

Wait. Purrs?

I open my eyes and look at what I thought was Luca’s arm across my chest. It’s actually Muffin. He’s looking comfortable, with his ginger-orange cat body stretched across my torso.

“Hello, my number one boyfriend,” I coo at the cat.

Luca’s clunking around in the galley kitchen on one bare foot and one walking cast, making coffee by the smell of it.