We don’t move. Can’t move. Just frozen there like deer in headlights—me half-pinned under him, shirt twisted, lips still buzzing from whatever the hell just happened between us.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
“Fuck,” Luca breathes.
“Luca?” The voice outside is deep, authoritative. Dad voice.
We scramble apart like the couch is radioactive. I smack my elbow on the coffee table and bite back a yelp while Luca launches himself across the room, grabbing a throw blanket and tossing it at me.
“Cover up,” he hisses.
“I’m wearing clothes!”
“Your shirt’s—”
I look down. My hoodie’s twisted, riding up, exposing way too much skin. Shit.
“Coming!” Luca shouts toward the door, his voice cracking like he’s thirteen again.
He turns to me, wild-eyed. “Stay here. Don’t move. Don’t breathe.”
“Oh sure, because this is totally fucking normal—”
“Noah.” His voice drops to barely a whisper. “Please.”
The panic in his eyes shuts me up. I yank my hoodie down and press myself into the corner of the couch like I can blend into the upholstery.
Luca smooths his hair, straightens his shirt, and walks to the front door. I hear the lock turn, the door creak open.
“Hey, Dad,” Luca says, voice artificially bright. “What’s up?”
“Forgot my briefcase,” comes the reply. “Thought I left it in the car.”
“Oh. Right. Yeah, probably.”
“You okay? You seem… wired.”
My heart stops. I’m holding my breath so hard my lungs burn.
“Just tired,” Luca lies. “Was about to head to bed.”
“It’s barely ten.”
“Big day tomorrow. You know. School.”
“Mm-hmm.”
The silence stretches forever. I can practically hear Luca sweating from here.
“Well,” his dad says finally. “Don’t stay up too late.”
“Yeah. No. Totally. Early bedtime.”
The door shuts. Lock clicks. Footsteps fade down the driveway.
I exhale so hard I probably deflate three inches.
“Jesus Christ,” I whisper.
Luca walks back over, running both hands through his hair. “That was—”
“Traumatic? Terrifying? A preview of my actual death?”
“Close.”
“Your definition of close needs recalibrating.”
He drops onto the couch next to me, grinning like an idiot. “Kinda hot though, right?”
I stare at him. “Are you actually insane?”
“Probably.”
“We almost got caught with our pants down—”
“Our pants were on.”
“Metaphorically!”
“And you’re still here.”
Damn it. He’s right.
We sit in silence for a minute, both of us probably processing how close we came to social nuclear war. The room still smells like whatever cologne he wears mixed with the lingering heat of almost getting caught.
“You want to get out of here?” Luca asks suddenly.
“What?”
He’s already up, grabbing keys from the hook by the door. “Come on. Before my dad decides to come back for his reading glasses or whatever.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Do I look like I’m kidding?”
He doesn’t. He looks wired, restless, like staying still might actually kill him.
“Where are we going?”
“Does it matter?”
It should matter. Normal people ask where they’re going before getting in cars with boys who just had their tongues down their throats.
But I follow him anyway.
The night air hits like a slap, cold and sharp after the heated mess we just escaped. Luca unlocks his car—a beat-up Honda that somehow still runs—and we slide in like we’re escaping a crime scene.
Which, honestly, we kind of are.
The drive starts quiet. Radio low, streetlights flashing past, both of us probably wondering what the hell we’re doing. Luca keeps glancing over like he’s checking to make sure I haven’t evaporated.
“So,” I say finally. “Are we just going to pretend that didn’t happen?”
“Which part?”
“Don’t be an ass. You know which part.”
He grins. “The part where I kissed you like I’ve been thinking about it for three years?”
“The part where we almost got caught by your dad and I had a near-death experience.”
“Both parts happened.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“And what does it mean?”
He goes quiet for a beat, fingers drumming the steering wheel. “It means I don’t want to stop.”
My stomach flips. “Stop what?”
“This. Whatever this is.”
“You don’t even know what this is.”
“Do you?”
I don’t answer because I can’t. Because this—whatever this is—feels too big and too dangerous and too real to put words to.
The car starts climbing, winding up roads I didn’t know existed. Trees give way to open sky, city lights spreading out below us like someone spilled glitter on black velvet.
He parks at some overlook I’ve never seen before, engine ticking as it cools. The view is insane—the whole city laid out beneath us, sparkling and infinite.
“Why here?” I ask, stepping out into the wind.
Luca joins me at the hood, leaning back like he owns the whole damn mountain. “Because up here, it’s just us.”
I look around at the empty parking lot, the vast sky, the city lights twinkling like distant stars.
“This is just us now.”