Chloe saw him move; as a result, she regretfully had to look at him again. She held her breath when he put his hand into his pocket to pull something out. When a pack of cigarettes came out, she let out her breath. She continued to watch him pull a cigarette out and then hold it between his lips as he put the pack back in his pocket. Going into his other pocket, he pulled out a lighter. Chloe thought she was going to have a heart attack if he went into his pocket again.
Lucca flipped his lighter open and lit the end, making it burn a bright red as he inhaled.
“You don’t mind, do you?”
Chloe slowly shook her head. She wished she could look away from him, but she was too afraid. She could tell he was Nero’s brother without a doubt; they both oozed confidence and sex. They looked very similar, as well.
Lucca had the same skin color, but she couldn’t quite tell if his hair was black or brown. The same went with his eyes; she couldn’t tell if they were blue or green. She would swear they were one color before the string lights picked up the other color, changing her mind all over again. Lucca, however, was a billion times more frightening and a million times more handsome than Nero. She figured it had to do with the age gap, but one thing they were very different about was the way they dressed. Nero only dressed in button-up shirts and slacks, while Lucca was wearing a black sweatshirt and dark, loose jeans.
She wasn’t used to seeing hair as long as his. It was swept back, yet it touched the back of his neck. He clearly didn’t care if it wasn’t trimmed and neat, just like his unshaven stubble. Everyone she was around always looked immaculate, making his bad-boy appearance more like ‘don’t cross me, or I will murder your entire family tree.’ I don’t think it matters what he wears; he would look like that, regardless.
“Aren’t you a little cold out here, darlin’?” His voice also oozed just as much confidence as Nero.
She felt uncomfortable with him calling her that. If I tell him my name, he’ll stop.
“M-my name is Chloe.”
She watched him smile as he took a puff, holding the cigarette between his thumb and index finger. He exhaled. “The mayor’s daughter, right?”
Chloe nodded gently. She knew that practically everyone was aware she was the mayor’s only child. Right?
“You were in that car wreck a few years back. I remember reading about it in the papers. Is that how you tell everyone you got those scars?” Lucca tapped his ashes in the snow without moving his eyes from her.
Chloe swallowed and looked back down at her hands. “That i-is how I got them.”
“No, it’s not. I know a knife cut when I see one.”
Chloe glimpsed back up at him. How did he know? “I-I d-don’t know what you’re t-talking about.”
Lucca flicked his cigarette in the yard. “Yeah, you do.”
A chill went down her spine at his words, causing her to stand, not able to stay around him any longer and not liking where this was headed.
She walked a step forward, hoping he would move. His muscular frame was blocking the whole entryway. She didn’t want to know how many hours he’d spent in the gym; she could see his muscles through his thick, dark sweatshirt. When he still didn’t move, she gradually moved up more. Please move, please move.
Chloe was now just a few small steps away, refusing to go any farther. “C-can you let me through?” Her legs started to shake when he dipped his hand back into his pocket. Her heels made it hard for her to hold herself up.
Lucca pulled out another cigarette and flipped his lighter open. He slowly lit the end, not moving his eyes from her. He blew the smoke out, making it roll over her body. Instead of putting the lighter back in his pocket, he flicked it again, and the silver Zippo shot out a flame. Lucca did one of his tricks, rolling the lighted Zippo in-between each of his fingers.
“I will if you tell me how old you are.”
Wait … what?
Chloe became entranced, staring at the flame expertly passing through his fingers. She didn’t know how he didn’t let it burn himself.
Chloe mindlessly answered and asked her own question, captivated by the glow. “Seventeen. You?”
Lucca suddenly flipped the lighter closed. “Twenty-six.”
Something told her he wasn’t very happy about her answer by the look on his face.
Twenty-six. She had no clue why she’d asked how old he was.
After she’d watched him move slightly to let her pass, she really wished he would give her more room than that.
Chloe slowly walked up and turned her body to the side, keeping her eyes on him, afraid he would move when she passed through. She held her breath as she carefully started to move by him. Her face came to the middle of his chest, even in heels, and his shoulders came right above her head.
When she had successfully passed him, somehow with just mere centimeters apart, Chloe started walking as fast as she could, trying not to run back to the house.
Lucca’s voice carried across the yard. “You can’t run from the truth forever, darlin’.”
Chloe picked her feet up faster.
Yes, I can. I’ve been doing it for years …
She picked up her feet, going toward the man with the blue-green eyes who commanded her body …
Crack.
The sound of broken bones greeted her ears as a baseball bat slammed down into a limp body.