Page 25 of Banter & Blushes #1

THE "THIS CAN'T CONTINUE" TALK THAT DEFINITELY SHOULDN'T HAVE HAPPENED

REBECCA

I was standing in front of the full-length mirror again, running my hands through my hair for the umpteenth time, trying to figure out what the heck I was doing.

I could practically hear some of my colleagues back home, loud and clear — “Rebecca, you’re being ridiculous.

He’s too young. He’s too... Luca. You’ve got a job. You’ve got goals. Don’t mess this up.”

And you know what? They’re probably right.

But there was something about Luca that I couldn’t seem to shake.

Every time I told myself I was being sensible, that I had a career to focus on, that I was way too old for him, my brain would short-circuit, and I’d think about how he looked at me when he thought I wasn’t looking.

Or how he made food look like art, and how every time he talked about it, his eyes would light up like he was talking about something more important than life itself.

And the way he would lean into me whenever I spoke…

Ugh. This was so not supposed to happen. And yet, here I was, standing in front of the mirror, psyching myself up to go have the conversation with him.

The conversation that I knew needed to happen.

The conversation where I would look him in the eye and say, “Hey, Luca, we can’t keep doing this. I’m too old for you, you’re too young for me, and I have way too many things going on to be distracted by whatever this is.”

Because that was the smart thing to do, right? That was practical . It was responsible. It was me taking control of the situation and making sure I didn’t fall for some guy who would eventually break my heart when he realized he was still figuring out who he was.

But... God, he made me hope for things I hadn’t allowed myself to for so long .

I picked up my phone and called Maya, needing some moral support—or maybe just some backup for when I needed to explain why I was about to do the thing I knew I shouldn’t. Though we were vacationing together, she had a different room within the same hotel.

“Becky,” she answered, her voice sounding like she just woke up from a nap. “What time is it?”

“I’m going to do it,” I said, pacing around my room like a caged animal. “I’m going to talk to Luca.”

“About what?” I could hear the rustling of her sheets as she sat up and rubbed her eyes.

“About this ! About... us! I need to be clear with him. I can’t keep doing this. It’s... it’s too much.” My voice was sounding panicked and that only amped up my nervousness.

Lisa sighed, clearly uninterested in listening to any of my dramatic internal monologue. “So, you’re really going to ruin it, huh?”

“I’m not ruining anything! I’m being responsible ! We’ve gone on one food tour, Lisa. One. And I spent half the time making sure I didn’t blush every time he looked at me.”

“Rebecca, this is a horrible idea .”

I groaned and sat down on the edge of the bed with my head hung in my hands.

“I know, but it’s also the right idea,” I said, trying to convince myself more than her. “I’m way older than him. He’s probably just in it for the novelty, anyway. And besides, I’m so not ready for anything serious.”

“Then why are you letting him cook you lasagna tacos ?”

“Because they were good , okay?!" I snapped, defensively. "I’m not saying he’s not... charming. He is. He’s way too charming. But this is exactly why I need to pull back.”

There was silence on the other end. Then Maya sighed again, the kind of sigh that only best friends give when they’ve already heard everything and know you’re going to do what you want to do anyway. “Fine. Just don’t come crying to me when you regret your decisions, okay?”

“I won’t cry!” I said, crossing my fingers behind my back like that somehow made me more convincing.

I hung up before she could dive into her usual lecture about how I shouldn’t overthink, reminding me that my thoughts were often driven more by past wounds and traumas than by logic.

Deep down, I knew she was right. I could feel my mind slipping into survival mode, reacting to the unknown, to something I’d promised myself I wouldn’t hope for anymore.

I inwardly chastised myself. I liked Luca. And the more I tried to fight it, the more I felt like I was going to lose the battle. So, I was going to put an end to it—before it got too serious.

This was for the best.

I found him in the lobby of the hotel, a place we’d passed through so many times, and yet it felt different now.

My heart raced a little, my palms felt clammy, and I couldn’t decide if it was because I was about to drop the metaphorical bombshell on him or if it was because. .. well, because he was Luca.

I spotted him leaning against the counter, chatting with the front desk clerk. He looked so effortlessly at ease , as always, like he was born to stand in the middle of a hotel lobby and be adorable. And that, of course, made me immediately want to slap my own face for being so damn obvious.

I walked up to him, trying to appear calm and collected. “Hey,” I said, and he looked up, immediately giving me one of those warm smiles of his.

“Hey, Becky. What’s up?”

Becky…

As if we’ve known each other forever.

I opened my mouth to speak, but then, of course, my brain short-circuited again. “Uh... nothing much. Just, uh, needed to talk to you about something.”

He straightened up, his posture shifting to something more serious. “Sure, what’s up?”

I swallowed. Okay, deep breath. You’ve got this, Rebecca. You’re the one in control here.

“Well,” I began, trying to sound as casual as possible, “I think we need to stop hanging out like this.”

I immediately regretted it.

His eyebrows shot up, and I could see the confusion hit him like a freight train. “What? Stop hanging out?” He blinked, looking from me to the floor and back. “Wait... what do you mean? Like, stop talking ?”

I panicked. “No! No, not stop talking—just... stop... whatever this is. Between us. It’s... it’s not a good idea.”

I was not doing well at this.

Luca looked genuinely stumped, like I’d thrown a wrench in his perfectly calm day. “What do you mean, ‘not a good idea’? I—Rebecca, I’m... confused. I thought we were having fun. Is this about the food tour? Was that... weird for you?”

“No! It’s not the food tour!” I blurted out.

Oh! Just let the floor swallow me up already.

“It’s just... us . I don’t think we should keep spending time together.

It’s... I’m too old for you, Luca. And you deserve someone who is.

.. I don’t know, more your speed. And I’m not looking for anything. .. complicated.”

“Complicated?” He echoed, looking even more confused. “Rebecca, I—what’s complicated? I’m just... I don’t know, I thought we were having a good time. We get along. You’re... I don’t know, you’re smart and funny and, I mean, the lasagna taco thing was a stretch , but still, we had fun, right?”

I opened my mouth to say something, but the words weren’t coming out right.

This wasn’t how I’d imagined it in my head.

I had this whole thing prepared about being too old for him, about him having a future ahead of him that I wasn’t a part of.

But all I could think about was how his eyes were just..

. looking at me. Looking at me like I was the only person in the room.

And that did not help me in this situation.

I shook my head and laughed nervously. “You’re making this harder, Luca.”

He stepped closer, and I could feel my breath catch in my throat. God, why did he have to smell so good?

“I don’t get it,” he said softly. “If this is really about age or whatever, then... I don’t know what to tell you. I’m not looking for some ‘perfect’ situation. I just like you, Rebecca. You. That’s all.”

I took a step back, heart thundering, but my mind screaming for some clarity. “Luca, please...”

He held up his hands, like he was trying to understand. “Please what?”

And there it was. The tension. The palpable, thick, uncomfortable tension that we had somehow created. And I knew, deep down, that even though I was trying to pull away... part of me didn’t want to. Not really.

I was so screwed.