by Eden Butler
Luka promised her that his mother didn’t care enough about him to worry over him having a girlfriend. His grandfather could barely keep straight the days of the week and often confused Keira for Gia and Kona for Luka. Uncle Mike, though, had adopted an out of sight, out of mind policy when it came to Luka and Gia. He pretended that he’d never found Luka and Gia together. If he spotted them standing in the same room, on the field, or anywhere near each other, he’d grunt, adjust the Blue Devils ball cap on his head over his eyes then walk in the other direction.
For now, it was peaceful, and Gia liked it that way. Luka did, too, though he didn’t say as much. They were shooting for honesty. They were shooting for realness and neither of those things had anything to do with anyone else. It was good. It was nice…sometimes, though, it felt a little too nice.
“Shit, it’s cold!” Claire said, slamming into their room with her arms full of a heavy bag and two thick library books with worn spines.
Gia hurried to help her friend, taking the books so the girl could drop her bag on her bed. “This,” she told Claire, nodding toward the window, “is not cold. You’re too soft if you think it’s cold here.”
“It’s fifty-five degrees! That’s cold to me.” She pulled off her scarf and two thick jackets before bouncing once on her mattress.
Gia’s laughter was automatic, but she tried to keep her humor short. She didn’t want to fracture her friend’s weak ego. Jimmy Erikson has just broken up with her after two straight months. For Claire that was a record. “Piccola, you poor Florida girl. Come talk to me about cold when it’s February in New York and you can’t catch a cab. You’ll freeze your tits off.”
Claire waved her off, looking less than amused by Gia’s small joke, but she understood. Jimmy was a cute. She understood why Claire might be irritated that he’d broken up with her. But she hoped her friend hadn’t been pestering him again. Last time campus police had escorted her away from the team house at four a.m. When Claire emptied her bag on her bed, Gia lowered her shoulders, spotting a Blue Devils tee with Jimmy’s number on the back and a framed picture she’d given him when they first started dating.
“Sweetie?” Gia started, waving the picture at her friend in silent question.
“I know,” Claire said, jerking the frame from Gia’s hands. “But that asshole had my shirt and some of my other things. I went to get them while I knew he’d be in class.” She nodded to the items on her bed. Most were innocent looking enough—pictures of the two of them, a couple with Jimmy’s face already scribbled out in black Sharpie, a mock set of dog tags with Claire and Jimmy’s names and a half-empty bottle of Firewhiskey. Gia didn’t bother to ask about that.
“You okay?” She sat next to her friend, inching closer without touching her. Claire was high strung on a good day. She’d been flying the highest for the past month when things with her and Jimmy were going well. When they’d been bad, Gia had barely been able to speak to her without the girl bursting into tears.
“Yeah. I suppose,” she admitted, though her eyes were growing glassy. She glanced at Gia, staring for a few seconds before she shook her head, seeming to silently admonish herself for the melt down she was tempted to have. “Yes.” This time when she spoke, her words were clearer and she scrubbed her face. “I’m fine. I got all this thanks to Luka Hale.”
“Luka?” Gia asked, her curiosity instantly piqued.
“Yeah.” Claire hopped up from her bed, brushing the collection of items back into her bag. “He let me into Jimmy’s room. Said he wasn’t supposed to, but knew that you and me were friends.” Claire smiled, wagging her eyebrows at Gia. “See? There’s hope. Your crush pays attention to who you hang out with. He obviously is misguided enough to think you and your friends are trustworthy. Maybe he’ll finally come around and ask you out.”
“Maybe,” Gia said, fighting back a smile.
“Or maybe,” Claire continued as she walked to her dresser and grabbed some underthings. “He was so high on pain meds he didn’t realize he was actually letting me into Jimmy’s room.”
“Pain meds?” Gia stood, not caring that she probably sounded a little desperate. “Why does Luka need pain meds?”
“Oh, you didn’t hear?” Gia shook her head and Claire shrugged. “You’re the worst fangirl. You need to pay attention to gossip.” When Gia didn’t join in her laughter, Claire waved her off. “Supposedly Luka and Kona got into it. Mimi said she heard them. She was in Brock’s room a week ago and Kona barges in looking for Luka. All hell breaks loose.”
A week ago? That was when Luka first told Gia he couldn’t see her. It was the night he promised her he’d first ran a fever.
“What were they fighting over?” Gia asked, following after Claire when she walked toward the bathroom.
“Who knows. They’re ridiculous. Like little kids who love and hate each other. Best friends, worst enemies sort of situation, but from what Brock told Mimi, Kona was pissed at Luka about some girl.”
Gia stepped back, her heart thudding hard when a million different scenarios rattled around her head. Some small, weak voice told her Luka was messing around with some girl. Maybe it was someone Kona didn’t think he should be with.
Maybe it was her.
He had warned her.
Kona had dismissed why he thought they shouldn’t be together, but maybe that had been a lie. He could have thought Gia wasn’t right for him. There were a thousand different assumptions, a million different scenarios that could have led Luka to fighting his brother.
Gia didn’t care about any of them.
In that moment, the only thing on her mind was getting at the truth.
And finding out why her boyfriend who promised he loved her, had lied to her.
Gia didn’t like the team house. There were too many people doing things that her uncle believed would “sully the good team name.” He meant there were a lot of horny kids running around drinking and otherwise doing horny-kid things. He never wanted Gia to be a part of that so she only came to the team house for parties and never alone.
Today, though, she marched up the walkway, barely acknowledging Miller and Peterson, two tackles her uncle thought could stand attitude adjustments.
“Gia, how you doing?” one of them said, but she didn’t bother to respond.
Instead, she moved through the front door, waving off Drew when she saw him and two other players, Ricks and Evans, who always thanked her for the protein bars she left in their lockers.
“You lost?” Ricks said, but immediately went quiet as she flew up the stairs, her gaze shooting across the landing, down the hallway and into the second-floor lounge area.
There was a large leather sofa in front of a wide screen television and several recliners circling the edge of the small room. The walls were covered with team photos that went back decades and university and team flags framed and pinned over the doorways. And in the center of that sofa sat Kona Hale, bent over tying his Nikes.
He glanced up when Gia stopped in front of him, a dark bruise under his eye that looked to be yellowing. Kona’s expression shifted from caution when he first glanced at her, to calm when he seemed to recognize her.
“Jilani?” he said, moving his head toward her. “Everything okay?”
“You tell me.”
When she didn’t elaborate, Kona stood, pushing down his pant legs before he faced her. “You gotta help me out here.”
No sense in working up to it. Gia straightened, keeping her chin lifted, trying like hell not to let her temper brim too far over the edge. When it did, the results weren’t pretty and she had no desire to embarrass herself or her uncle in front of his players. “Why the hell were you and Luka fighting?”
Kona’s wrinkled brows smoothed at her question, likely making the connection between what he thought was her crush on Luka and her anger now. Pointless assumption on the whole. He probably thought she was still acting like a stupid kid with a crush. Of course he would. No one knew about her and Luka. She gu
essed he’d never told Kona, not if they were trying to beat each other’s faces in. But when Kona shook his head, grinning at her like she was simple, almost adorable for asking after his twin, Gia’s anger surfaced.
“Don’t look at me like that. You tell me why the hell you put your hands on him.”
The smile left Kona’s face and he inhaled, nostrils flaring. That worried, confused wrinkle reformed between his eyebrows and he looked like he needed a second to regroup, try to figure out how to best explain himself.
“Gia…the thing is…”
“My brother is an asshole,” Luka said from the door behind Kona.
They both turned, Kona only stretching his neck to look in Luka’s direction as Gia stepped to the side, moving around him to get a look at her boyfriend. She stood at Kona’s side, staring at the cut along Luka’s bottom lip and the bruises under both his eyes. Without taking her attention from her boyfriend’s face, Gia slugged Kona’s mammoth shoulder, not caring if the flinch he gave her was fake.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she asked the big man, moving to Luka’s side.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Luka told her, but he didn’t brush her hand away when she tilted his face toward the light. He lowered his voice, whispering in her ear, “You can yell at me later.”
“Oh, I will,” she told him before she rounded on his twin. “Well?”
“Listen, Gia, this really…” Kona looked to Luka, rolling his eyes before he stared at her. “This is between us.”
“Bullshit. You don’t put your hands on your brother.” Kona laughed, stepping back as though he was about to leave. “Hey!” She picked up the remote from the coffee table and flung it at him when he kept walking. “I’m talking to you, Kona Hale.” The big man stopped, and Gia ignored Luka’s hand on her arm. She ignored the slow frown that moved over Kona’s face and how menacing he looked when he glared at her.
“It’s none of your business.”
“No?” She glanced at Luka, knowing the truth, the real truth was the only thing they had between them. It was theirs. Only theirs and even if she was mad at Kona, she wanted to keep something just between them. “I’m making it my business because Luka is my…friend.”
“He’s my brother,” Kona said, the defense weak. When he glanced at his twin standing behind Gia, the big man shook his head. “I was wrong, I’ll admit that. I thought he did something I know he wouldn’t…” Kona waved a hand before he scrubbed his face and returned his attention to Gia. “Bottom line, it’s between us. He’s my brother. We handled our beef like we always do.”
“That’s ridiculous and stupid.” Kona tried to argue, but Gia held up a hand, stopping him. “I have four brothers. I know ridiculous and stupid. I also know how brothers handle their shit and this…” She pointed at the bruise on Kona’s face and the more significant damage on Luka’s, all the cuts and abrasions that Gia guessed would take much longer to heal than Kona’s, “this was not a fair fight. This was you in a damn rage and you know it.”
“It got sorted…” Kona tried, again glancing at his twin.
But Gia wasn’t listening. She turned, arms folded as she waited for Luka to explain himself because she knew Kona wouldn’t. “He thought I was fucking around with Keira.”
“Asshole!” Kona yelled just as Gia jerked her gaze back to him. “What?” he asked. “I told you I fucked up.”
“Are you crazy?”
“I had reasons,” Kona said.
“Stupid fucking reasons,” Luka answered, wincing as he dabbed at the cut on his bottom lip. He ignored Kona’s long sigh but leaned into Gia when she stood next to him. “Get out of here and go see your woman,” Luka told Kona, ignoring him when he stepped forward. “We can manage.”
Kona shifted his attention from his brother, to Gia and she didn’t miss the slow stretch of his mouth as he smiled. “I bet you can,” he told them.
“Get out of here,” Gia told Kona, moving Luka’s chin again. The bottom lip had started to crack again and a small pebble of blood had begun to leak from the side. Luka looked tired and worn, but she could tell he’d healed. The bruises were dark but like Kona’s they’d already begun to yellow.
“Gia,” Kona said, calling from the other side of the room. She glanced up, shooting him a glare that made him laugh. “Thanks for looking out for my brother.” She flipped him the bird, ignoring Kona and his teasing laugh as she opened Luka’s door and led him inside.
10.
LUKA
He wanted to say a lot of things to her. To make excuses. He wanted to make promises that he’d never hurt her. Never lie to her again. But Luka Hale was not a fool. When happy accidents like this one came to him, he took them.
Gia Jilani was no accident. She was purpose and intention and all the things he had no idea he needed.
“I lied for a reason,” he tried, hoping she took pity on him. He felt better after the thrashing his twin gave him, pointless though it was, but he was still tired.
“And that was?” she said, nodding to the bed like an angry night nurse who just caught her patient roaming the halls with the back of his gown wide open.
“Shit, nani,” he started, reaching out for her as he leaned back against his pillows. “I just didn’t want you to see me like this.”
“So…you lied out of vanity?” Gia followed him, not settling against his chest like he wanted, keeping her distance, though if Luka had to guess, he’d say she didn’t much like that. “Because you were embarrassed of the bruises?”
“No. Not embarrassed.” He reached for the Kleenex she held in her hand, then gave up taking it from her when she pushed him further back against his pillows. She smelled good. Like lilac again and the scent made his mouth water and his stomach tighten. God, he’d missed her.
“Are you in pain?” Gia inched closer, gently wiping the corner of his mouth, glancing at him when he shook his head. “You sure?” A nod and Gia was satisfied. “Good.”
“You were worried about me?” When she frowned instead of replying, Luka used the uninjured side of his mouth to smile at her. “Because you love me?” Gia shrugged, her expression sweet, teasing, the same flirtatious look she used whenever she wanted to appear less lethal. He knew better. Gia Jilani was dangerous. A sexual predator disguised as a beautiful, sweet woman. But she wasn’t harmless. She was fierce. She was fearsome and she was his.
“Why would he think that about you and Keira?”
He didn’t like the small worry he saw in her eyes, or the way she held her breath, as though there was some expectation that he’d hurt her and Kona had discovered it first.
“Don’t,” he told her, covering her mouth with his fingers. “Never for a second think that I would do that. Not to you. Not to him.” Luka pulled her on top of him, adjusting her legs so that she covered him, so that he felt the heat of her close to him. He moved his fingers over her hips, watching the darkening of her eyes as he moved them up her ribs to her shoulders. “I couldn’t want anyone more than I want you.” Luka lifted his knees, pushing Gia forward, bringing her face to his and her body flush to his. “I meant what I said, and I never say it easy. I love you, G. Only you.”
Her breath came out in a breathy pant, her words choppy, but firm as she looked down at him. “Show me.”
Luka never needed an excuse to touch her. If Gia was near him, he couldn’t keep his hands from her. Now they were alone, no interruptions. No excuses to hurry or race away from each other. He was going to take his time.
“Sit up,” he told her, loving the flush that turned her cheeks pink. “I want to see you when I strip you bare.”
She brushed the wild tumble of hair from her eyes, pushing off his chest to steady herself as Luka rubbed the tips of his fingers along her shoulders, to the buttons that fastened in front.
Gia seemed to hold her breath, that pink color on her face darkening, her breath sharp and warm as he unhooked one button and then another, exposing her slowly. It was a slow dance he enj
oyed, made better by the way Gia’s breathing increased, as though every touch he made, each time his fingers brushed against the curve of her breast, was tease enough that drove her closer and closer to the brink of losing control.
“Luka…”
“I like you this way,” he told her, buttons open, shirt moving open between his fingers as he sat up. Her skin tasted sweet, like honeysuckles and Luka guessed he could spend all night kissing her collarbone, just to hear the quickening of her breath and feel the tightening of her nails against his shoulders as he sucked the tops of her breasts into his mouth. “I like you eager and wanting me…”
“I need you.” Gia moved closer, pushing her hips against his, working herself against his dick until he closed his eyes, wanting to focus on the sensation of how hot she felt against him.
“You have me, nani,” he promised, giving up the tease to kiss her, holding Gia by the waist, arm tight, keeping her close as he picked her up, his fingers twisting in her hair. “Never doubt that.”
She let him move her like she knew he’d never hurt her. Gia let Luka take hold of her, strip her off her bra, fingers and mouth worshipping her skin, sucking in her nipples, teasing, more teasing than he’d ever given her and she seemed to love it. Gia responded, grabbing at his shirt, tugging down his jeans, his shorts, gripping him like she’d never done it before.
“Gia…” he grunted, slowing her grip with a hand on her wrist then letting go of her when she went down on him, sucking the head, swirling, taking his dick deep. “Fuck…” She felt unreal, like perfection and Luka held on, let her take him all, twisting his fingers in her hair, unable to keep his hands from her.
When he bent forward as she sucked him, gripping her nipple, twisting it, responding to the suction she gave him, giving back delicious friction in return, Gia moaned, her movements becoming sloppy and Luka pulled her away from his lap, lifting her on top of the mattress to spread her wide, tasting her, devouring her like he’d never be full.