Inferno(65)

I took another bite, joining with my first so the grooves aligned. A groan of pleasure escaped me and I closed my eyes, thinking only of the taste for that fleeting moment. God, it was good. I fought the urge to stuff the rest in my mouth, and put it back. Luca picked it up a minute later. He chewed in silence but this time he nodded, as though agreeing with my earlier groan.

We shared it that way – tiny bites – back and forth until there was just one bite left. I watched, feeling way too forlorn as Luca picked it up. It was his turn. We were almost home now. The rest of the ride had passed quickly, with sugar and smirks and side-glances as we slowly picked through one measly doughnut and expertly avoided the entire shitstorm that was swirling around both our families. We didn’t mention Donata or Jack or the gun Luca had under his seat. We didn’t talk about the warehouse, the blood war, the fact that we were at the start of something that was only going to get worse. We were both thinking about it, but our whole drive became about that doughnut and nothing else.

He took the tiniest bite and put the final piece back on the dashboard, leaving the last of it for me. He cleared his throat, and just as I popped the end of it in my mouth and swallowed without bothering to chew, he turned to me and asked, ‘Better now?’

‘It’s a start.’ I rubbed my fingertips on my shorts to get rid of the stickiness. ‘Was that the first doughnut you’ve ever had?’ I asked him.

Luca threw his head back and laughed so loudly I almost jumped in my seat.

He laughed and laughed. I could see all his teeth. I didn’t realize how wide his smile could stretch, or how little crinkles formed beside his eyes when he was amused. I didn’t know he could even laugh like that. It was so strange to see him untethered from his usual brand of seriousness.

I thought he might actually tear up with amusement, but after a while he just shook his head, shaking off the dregs of his laughter. ‘Are you serious?’ he asked, stealing a glance at me as we pulled off the highway. ‘Was that a real question?’

‘What?’ I asked, my eyes wide and innocent. ‘Why are you laughing so hard? Don’t be so rude.’

He shook his head, still smiling, and I fought the urge to slam my fist into his knee to wipe the smile off his face. He was disconcerting like this. It made him too approachable. I was used to aloof-Luca, snarky-Luca. This Luca threw me off.

‘Yes, I’ve had a doughnut before,’ he said. ‘I’ve also tried cake and pizza, and I’ve been on a swing set and played on a PlayStation. I did not grow up in a metal cage.’ He laughed again, but this time under his breath. ‘Dio, sei divertente. What a question.’

I weighed my response. ‘I wasn’t trying to make fun of you. It’s just … you just seem like such a … um …’

‘What?’ He flicked his gaze to me again. ‘A killjoy?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said, trying to salvage what I was about to say. But the thing is, that sort of was what I was about to say. ‘Well, yeah, kinda. You’re always so serious about stuff.’

The joviality seeped from his expression, but his voice remained light. ‘I have to be serious about things, Sophie. It’s my job. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to have fun. Or how to eat a doughnut.’

‘OK, then,’ I said, duly scolded. ‘Consider me enlightened.’

He was still shaking his head. ‘You really are something else.’

The mood had finally lifted. The tension from earlier had drained, and I relaxed in the easiness that took its place.

‘Thanks for the doughnut,’ I said, watching the expanses of green outside and enjoying feeling satiated. ‘You were right. I love sprinkles.’

‘I know,’ he said. ‘I’m always right.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘Smart-ass.’

‘So, are we even now?’ he asked. He was watching the street again – country fields blurring into each other on either side of us, while trees jostled for space overhead. ‘For you saving me in the warehouse, I mean. I figured the doughnut might make a good thank-you.’

‘Oh, no, no,’ I said, flopping back against the seat. ‘Correct etiquette demands a bouquet of flowers. A doughnut, I’m sorry to say, simply won’t cut it.’

Luca’s exhale whistled through his nose. ‘It’s an impossibility,’ he said, his words filled with mock regret. ‘Surely the sprinkles made it a worthy thank-you gift?’

I shook my head against the leather. ‘I don’t make the rules, Luca. And if we’re being technical, you really only gave me half a doughnut.’ I grinned, revelling in his frown.