Page 161 of Bitter When He Begs

His jaw clenches again, but then he exhales slowly before stretching his arms behind his head. “We should probably get up and get breakfast.”

He sits up like he didn’t just drop the weight of his father’s existence between us and expect me to carry half of it. His arms stretch out behind his head again; muscles flexing and catching the morning light pouring through the half-open blinds. His back arches just enough that the sheet slips to his hips, and my brain stalls like a Windows XP reboot.

Yeah. No. Breakfast can wait.

I don’t even pretend not to ogle.

I stay where I am, sprawled on my stomach, chin propped on my arm, and just… stare. Not even subtle about it. I track the lines of his arms, the dip of his waist, and the stretch of his abs ashe yawns and runs a hand through his hair like he doesn’t know he’s currently starring in my personal R-rated highlight reel.

He glances over, catching me full-on ogling, and raises a brow. “What?”

I shrug with the fakest innocence I can muster.

“I’d rather stay here and watch my hot-ass boyfriend stretch for the next hour, thanks,” I mutter, unabashed, because yeah, this is definitely a religious experience. I let my gaze trail from the curve of his shoulder down the defined line of his stomach to the way the sheet teases just enough skin to ruin me completely. “Who the hell needs breakfast whenthat’son the menu?”

Luca laughs, and it’s that deep, cocky sound that goes straight down my spine. “You’re insatiable.”

“I’m a gay man with eyes and a pulse. Sue me.”

He leans back on one hand, the other running through his hair again—like he’s trying to get it under control, but there’s no point. It’s got that morning mess to it, the kind that makes me want to bury my hands in it and keep him here forever.

“God, stop being so hot already,” I moan, and he rolls those ocean-blue eyes and stands, stretching again because he’s a menace and he knows what he’s doing to me.

He walks across the room like a Greek statue that’s come to life, all easy muscle and impossible confidence, and opens his dresser like I’m not seconds away from combusting.

“You’re lucky I like you like this,” I call after him, voice dry. “Desperate and annoying.”

He turns with that trademark smirk, briefs hanging loosely from his fingers. “You like me because I’m hot and keep you up all night.”

I snort. “You keep me up because you snore like a dying bear.”

He laughs again, stepping into his briefs, and grabbing a pair of joggers. “Keep talking, Sunshine. That mouth’s gonna get you in trouble.”

“Promise?” I quip, sitting up more because, even clothed, he’s still painfully attractive and way too smug about it.

That gets a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“What is it now?” I ask, standing and walking over to him. I reach up and fix the collar of his hoodie, fingers brushing his throat. “You’re still doing the forehead wrinkle thing.”

He leans into my touch without thinking. “It’s just…”

“Your dad?” I ask.

He nods slowly. “He always shows up like this. Unexpectedly. Just enough to throw me off my game, then disappears before I can figure out what the hell he even wanted.”

I nod, pressing my hand to his chest. “Then let’s make tonight about something else. You play for you. For your team. For me.”

His jaw twitches. “You always make it sound that simple.”

“Because it is,” I say, firmer now. “He doesn’t get to own space in your head anymore. You earned your place. You fought like hell for it. Don’t let him show up and pretend he had anything to do with who you are now.”

Luca grabs the back of my neck and pulls me in for a kiss. It’s slow and warm, less about hunger and more about reassurance. His lips linger against mine like they’re trying to say everything he can’t get out loud yet.

When he finally pulls back, his voice is low. “You really love me, don’t you?”

I arch a brow. “That’s a dumb question coming from a guy who caught me drooling over his abs three minutes ago.”

That makes him laugh again, softer this time, but it’s real. I feel it vibrate between us, feel the way his body relaxes like I reached into his chest and yanked something loose that had been knotted up for hours.