to get a grip on it, as she was busy feeling bereft again. About Wes. About the loss of Luca’s arm around her waist. About the stupid mattress and wrinkled sheets. She looked up at him one more time, steadying herself with a hand on his very broad, hard chest. “I’ll pay you back, you know. For the pizza and beer. And water. For the next two nights. I pay my way,” she said. “No matter what.”
“Okay, we can talk about that tomorrow. For now, though, I think you should get some sleep, huh?”
She slid her palm off his chest and listed to the left. His arms came all the way around her, and she leaned gratefully against his chest, so tired and weak she didn’t know how she was going to make it to the mattress. When she fully realized what she was doing, she straightened away from him. “Sorry,” she muttered.
“It’s okay. You’re crashing from all that adrenaline from earlier.” He loosened his arms but didn’t pull away. “Take your time.”
“You’re a nice man, you know that?”
Luca smiled. “Yeah, I’m a real peach.”
“You are.” April smiled back at him as he turned her toward the room. “I’ll vouch for you.”
“You don’t know me. I could be a real scumbag.”
“No, you’re not,” she said as he gave her a gentle push forward. “I just know it.”
“You thought you knew Wes,” Luca reminded her.
Her stomach clenched, and she stumbled into the room and waited until he shut the door behind him before the tears fell.
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