by Leslie North
She was just about to reply when another text message came in, this one words instead of an image.
Sry wrong button. Cant drive. Can u pick me up?
Why can’t you drive? she wrote back.
Drunk. lol.
Melanie heaved a sigh and considered what her options were. She could send Luciano a cab, but that wouldn’t do him any good. If he was reaching out to her, he was too far gone to get back on his own safely. She wouldn’t trust him to get to the door at this point. Melanie understood Luciano’s limits, and she knew he wouldn’t contact her if he didn’t really need help.
That meant driving out to wherever he was at and bringing him back to his apartment.
Where are you? Give me the name of the bar.
Horseshoes.
I’ll be there soon.
Melanie slipped her phone into her back pocket, put the envelope of cash into the safe in the office, then made sure everything was locked up before she set the alarm and let herself out.
As she walked back to her car, she pulled up the address on her GPS. The bar was outside the strip, almost outside of city limits. Melanie frowned. She had no idea why Luciano would have gone so far—it was outside his character.
On the way there, Luciano kept texting. She kept her eyes on the road and drove safely, but once she arrived and found a space to park, she scrolled through the messages before exiting the car.
Im inside. Find me.
Don’t think I can get up.
Mel? Where r u?
Hw lnog?
The more recent the text, the more Luciano’s grammar deteriorated. Melanie started to worry. He had never been a big drinker—a beer here and there or sometimes a mixed drink if they went out for dinner—but to get wasted at a bar?
It had to be because of what happened today at the shop. Melanie still didn’t understand it, but she hoped Luciano would open up about it tonight on the way back to his apartment. If it was troubling him that much, he needed to get it off his chest. It wasn’t healthy for him to keep his emotions locked down.
I’m outside. I’m coming in now.
She got out of the car and placed her phone back in her pocket, then headed for the front doors of the bar. A group of women talked and laughed outside, leaning into each other and having a little too much fun to be sober. They eyed Melanie as she passed.
At the door was a bouncer, and he carded Melanie before he let her in. The gesture was flattering, but Melanie was sure it was nothing more than that. She was going on thirty, and although she did her best to remain youthful, she knew that there was no way the bouncer mistook her for someone under twenty-one.
Before she stepped through the doors, the bass from the music inside thudded in her chest and left her feeling hollow. Melanie bit down on her lip and entered. Horseshoes was primarily a bar, but there was a dance floor at the back filled with jumping, swaying bodies. Lights flashed. It looked like glitter had recently cascaded from the ceiling—it was all over the stage, and shone in the hair of some of the guests.
If she was reading his texts right, Luciano couldn’t stand. That meant that he was likely sitting somewhere. Melanie made a slow tour of the booths, searching. The dance music drowned out the conversations around her, and the blinking lights limited her vision. She was confident that she’d find him; it was just a matter of time.
But getting someone as sturdy as Luciano out of a bar if he couldn’t walk? Melanie wasn’t sure she could manage on her own.
She decided she’d deal with that obstacle when she got to it. Finding Luciano was her first priority. From there, she’d assess his needs and plan her next step.
Someone grabbed her hand and tugged. Melanie shrieked and tried to pull away, but the individual was insistent. By the strength of their grip and the size of their hand, Melanie guessed it was a man. When she turned her head to look and her eyes focused against the rapidly flashing lights, she discovered Luciano standing next to her.
“Luciano?” she gasped. He couldn’t hear her over the music, she knew, but she could read the recognition in his eyes. He tugged her toward the stage, and she followed mutely.
He said he couldn’t walk. Had he been lying, or had he found a second wind while she was on her way?
In the end, it didn’t matter. He jumped up on the raised dance floor and tugged her along after him. Melanie could only follow. She was here for him, and she’d been planning to leave right away to get back to researching an apartment before bed, but Luciano’s eyes were dazzling beneath the bright lights, and he was smiling with a serene, excited joy that she hadn’t seen in him in… ever.
He tugged her close. Melanie wasn’t a dancer by any stretch of the imagination. The girls in the communes she lived in during her youth taught her how to dance to the psychedelic music their parents always seemed to listen to… but that was barely dancing. At least not the kind popular at modern clubs. Luciano knew how to move his feet, his hips and his hands in the right way to look alluring. The lights amplified his features and dramatized the lines of his face, and Melanie couldn’t help but be mesmerized by them.
There was nothing she could do to compare.
The slow, flowing, ethereal kind of dancing she knew didn’t fit in with anyone else on stage, and she had no idea how to shake her ass without looking like an idiot, or how to shimmy and grind like some of the women were doing.
But with Luciano’s arms around her, it didn’t matter.
Melanie followed his body, and although she was hesitant to accept that it really was happening to her, she trusted the circumstances she found herself in. Deep down, wasn’t this what she’d wanted for years? To be held by Luciano. To be adored by him. To be made to feel as special as Cassandra….
The music was hypnotic, and the feel of Luciano’s body against her own added to her trance. She thought she’d suppressed her desire for him long ago, but now it was rising up stronger than ever. The flirtatious dinner at l’academie, and now the feel of his arms around her, so safe and strong.
“Luc,” she said, knowing he couldn’t hear. “We… we need to go.”
If he could read her lips, he wasn’t listening. Luciano danced with her, their bodies flush with each other. She felt the hard expanse of his chest beneath his T-shirt and the coarse hairs of his beard. The tactile sensation left her whole body tingling, as though she’d been the one hitting the bar too hard.
Luciano was intoxicating.
Time slipped away from them. Melanie lost herself to the music. She followed Luciano’s lead, growing bolder the longer they danced. Her hands slipped down his chest, feeling him in full. Her fingertips brushed against the front of his jeans, teasing the erection beneath. Eventually, she wrapped her arms around his neck, their bodies pressed together.
Heat swirled from her core downward, flooding her groin and she hungered for his lips. But kissing him, giving in to such primal desires when she was sober and the responsible part of the equation…
No.
Melanie pulled away and took his hand, leading him off stage. At least half an hour had passed, if not more, and she couldn’t justify staying any longer. Luciano was tempting her too much, and his judgment was shot. He couldn’t consent while drunk. She refused to take advantage of him.
This time, Luciano stumbled after her. Melanie was glad when he didn’t struggle against her. Instead, he obediently tagged along behind her, stumbling from time to time. While dancing he’d been fine, but only because she’d been there to support him. Now that he was on his own, he was having a harder time at it.
Soon enough they left the bar and emerged in front of the building. Melanie’s ears rang, and cold air rushed against her heated skin and instantly chilled her. She shivered, but kept walking. The less they stopped, the less of a chance Luciano would lose momentum and shut down. If she could just get him back in her car….
“Hey, stop,” Luciano said. He grabbed her arm with his free hand, and Melanie came to a stop. She turned around to face
him. A new group of drunken women giggled as they watched from a short distance away. “Where are you going?”
“To my car,” Melanie said. “We’ve got to get you home.”
“No.” Luciano shook his head, and then wobbled on his feet. Melanie braced him. “Gotta… gotta take my bike or else it’ll get towed.”
“What?” Melanie frowned. “Towed?”
“Yeah.” Luciano ran the back of his hand beneath his eye as though to wipe away debris. “It’s the zoning, and the registration on it is uh. Not good.”
“Oh, my god.” Melanie sighed. “You told me you had that under control. I bothered you about it for three weeks.”
“I know,” Luciano mumbled. “Just… get it back home and then I’ll deal with it tomorrow, okay? Promise.” Before she replied, he’d already begun to redirect her in the direction of his motorcycle. Melanie saw it before long, and her heart raced. This wasn’t the kind of night she was expecting.
“Go stand by your motorcycle and I’ll be right back,” she told him. “Get your helmet on.”
“You’re not going to use it?” he asked.
“Nope. You left a spare one in my trunk a while back. I’m going to go grab it, because I’m not getting on that thing unless both of us are as protected as we can be.”
When they’d first hit the road, Luciano had offered to let her ride behind him on his bike for the duration of their travels. Melanie had politely declined. She knew the statistics for accidents, and she also knew that even if the smallest thing went wrong, there was nothing protecting the body from hard, lethal pavement. Helmets didn’t guarantee anything at high speeds, but the thought that there was a chance that one could save their lives made her feel a little better about driving one back to Luciano’s place.
She went to get the helmet, and by the time she’d returned, Luciano had seated himself on the bike. When he saw her approach, he scooted backward and patted the seat in front of him. Melanie couldn’t believe she was about to do this.
She hated motorcycles.
“Here. You sit here.” Luciano patted the seat again. “You’ve got foot pedals here,” he kicked them. “And the accelerator—”
“It’s okay,” Melanie said. She put on her helmet, then swung her leg over the bike and settled on the seat. It was impossible to miss how Luciano’s erection pressed against her ass. She tried not to think about it. “I know how these things work.”
To demonstrate her point, she took the keys from Luciano’s hand, slapped it into the ignition and turned them. The engine kicked to life.
“What? How?” Luciano spoke over the rumble of the engine.
Melanie laughed. “I guess I never told you about how I grew up, did I? That’s a story for another time. For now, I’ll just say I did all kinds of wild things when I was a kid including riding motorcycles. Granted, they were mostly dirt bikes around the communes I grew up in. So, this will be much easier.”
She made sure the kickstand was secured, and then checked her mirrors.
“You’re gonna wanna hang on tight,” Melanie told Luciano. “You’re probably not used to riding behind, but it’s a little different than what you think it’s like. All you need to do is move with me when we take corners.”
“Got it. I can do it.” Luciano clung to her waist, and Melanie backed out of the spot and turned the motorcycle around. The sensation of his body against hers was riveting, and Melanie simultaneously wished the moment never would have happened, and that it would never end. “You sure you got this thing? I mean, I can give you pointers.”
“Hush and hold on tight,” Melanie shot back. She gave her car a cursory glance, then accelerated and exited the parking lot. She was in no means the speed demon that Luciano was when he rode, but she knew enough about motorcycles to be comfortable.
She was going to get them home in one piece.
They drove through the night. Melanie knew the way back to Luciano’s apartment like the back of her hand. They hadn’t been in Vegas long, but she’d been running enough of his errands to know where he lived by now.
When they finally arrived and pulled into the underground parking space beneath the apartment, Melanie breathed out a sigh of relief. She parked in one of Luciano’s two designated spots, then unclipped her helmet and waited for Luciano to disembark. A little clumsy on his feet, he managed to get off. She followed.
“You… you did really well,” Luciano admitted. “So impressed. What other chicks can ride bikes out of the blue like that? What other secrets are you hiding from me?”
The last of her secrets was about her childhood. Luciano knew she’d dated a man through college and it hadn’t worked out. He knew that she was struggling to support herself after finding herself alone in the world. He didn’t know her birth name, or why she’d left home. “There’s nothing really exciting left to tell.”
“Bullshit.” He laughed. “I bet you’re full of secrets. So many wonderful secrets. A secret factory.”
“Luciano, you’re drunk,” Melanie said firmly. She put a hand between his shoulder blades and steered him toward the elevator. “Let’s get you home.”
“I… um.” Luciano frowned. “Yeah, maybe that’s going to be an issue.”
Melanie stopped them short. “What’s going to be an issue?”
“I don’t have my keys.”
Irritation ticked in Melanie’s temple. Luciano only gave her the keys to his apartment when she had business to do there—they were out of luck.
“I left them back at the shop,” Luciano said. “Do you…?”
“No.” She sighed. “We’ll go back to the shop, then. If you want, you can stay here. I’ll dart in, get them, and then come back.”
“No.” Luciano shook his head. “The shop’s far. Why don’t we just go to the house? You still have the keys to the house, right?”
A moment of silence passed between them. Melanie did have the keys to the house with her meetings with the real estate agent, and the house was furnished and live-in ready, but she’d never thought he’d be interested in staying there. “I do.”
“Then let’s go there,” Luciano declared. He’d been avoiding the property like the plague since before she knew him. Antonio had told her that the house was a wedding gift to Cassandra he’d given her in advance, and that she had just finished decorating it when the accident happened that killed her. Luciano held onto it because he refused to let her memory go, but couldn’t bring himself to go inside because he was too afraid to confront his demons and admit that she was gone.
Now he wanted to spend the night there?
Something struck Melanie as off, but she wasn’t going to argue. With just the bike between the two of them, wherever she went, she’d have to spend the night with Luciano. She’d much rather do it in his three bedroom house than in his one bedroom apartment or her crummy hotel room.
“Okay,” she said. “Get back on the bike and we’ll go.”
Whatever had happened today had changed Luciano in some way. Melanie was eager to see whether that change would stick around when he was sober, or if the glimmer of the man she saw before her was only a temporary manifestation.
12
Luciano
The house was as he remembered it. Melanie clicked on the lights as they entered, and the whole room came alive. The blackout curtains were dusted with minuscule glitter that reflected light and shone without looking childish. The furniture was fun and upholstered in bright colors. The decor was wild and captured Cassandra’s spirit more than anything he’d seen in a long time.
For the first time in a long time, it didn’t make him feel miserable.
Melanie moved through the house, heading upstairs immediately to check on the bedrooms. Luciano detoured into the kitchen to look around. There was no food left, but above the stove was Cassandra’s collection of hot sauce. All of it was bad by now, but he considered it a decoration. It made him think of her without fail. She was always looking to add a little spice to life.<
br />
With a wry grin, Luciano shook his head, turned off the light, and went to make sure the front door was locked. His head was still spinning, and his vision was slow to adjust whenever he moved his head, but he wasn’t falling down just yet.
Dancing with Melanie had been amazing.
It wasn’t like him to dance—not anymore—but he hadn’t been able to resist when she came in through the doors. Beneath the throbbing lights and all the flashing colors, she’d looked gorgeous. Sarah had been right; if Cassandra were alive and circumstances had driven them apart instead of death, she would have been his wingman. She would have wanted to see him have fun and enjoy the rest of his life. She would have encouraged him to look for his own ‘spice.’
Luciano didn’t feel guilty about dancing with Melanie. He didn’t even feel guilty that he was hard for her. Melanie was an attractive woman, and he’d been suppressing feelings for her for years.
It was time to fix that.
He headed upstairs to find Melanie in the spare bedroom, folding down the dust covers to reveal the fresh sheets beneath. He entered the room and slipped his hands around her waist. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he felt bold. He didn’t loosen his grip when Melanie gasped.
“Luc!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing?”
“Something I should have done a long time ago,” Luciano replied. He pressed against her from behind, letting his clothed erection meet her ass. Melanie had a tight figure. He wanted to explore every inch of it. “Don’t bother with the guest bedroom tonight.”
He heard a breath hitch in Melanie’s throat, and he felt her tremble in his arms. For a moment, she stood still. His hands roamed her flat stomach, over her shirt, and then slipped beneath it to touch her soft skin. Luciano had forgotten how soft women were, and he held back a moan and closed his eyes as his hands explored.
Before his fingertips brushed her bra, she set her hands over his and stilled them. Turning in his arms, she faced him. He could see the indecision in her eyes as she bit her lower lip. Reaching his hand up, he pressed lightly on her lip with his finger separating it from her teeth. His hand slid easily to her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair.