Page 33 of Banter & Blushes #1

THE STORM IN MY HEAD

REBECCA

I don't know how long we stood there, wrapped up in that moment. It felt like the rain had stopped, but maybe it was just the heavy weight of my emotions that drowned everything out. All I could focus on was the feel of Luca’s arms around me—so warm, so steady, like he was the one holding everything together while I fell apart in his arms.

I was shaking, trembling, and it wasn't just the cold anymore.

I couldn't even pinpoint exactly when it happened, but somewhere in the middle of all my internal chaos, I started crying.

I didn't want to, didn’t want him to see how utterly broken I felt, how fragile I was underneath all my bravado.

But the tears came anyway, pouring down my face, mixing with the rain that still clung to my skin.

I could feel his breath against my hair, steady and comforting, but all I could hear in my head were my own thoughts. What is he doing here? Why is he holding me? He’s probably regretting this right now.

I pulled away slightly, wiping my face, trying to regain some composure.

But everything felt so fragile. I was utterly embarrassed .

I never thought I'd be this person—the one who couldn’t control herself in front of someone else, especially not in front of someone like him.

I was crumbling like a cheap cardboard box in the rain.

"God, I’m so sorry," I muttered, backing away slightly, but he didn’t let go. His arms stayed around me, like he was anchoring me to him, like he wouldn’t let me drift away.

"You don’t have to apologize," he said softly, his voice low and steady. "It’s okay to feel like this. You don’t have to hold it all together, Rebecca."

But I did. I always had to hold it together. And the fact that he was here, witnessing the mess that was me, made my stomach twist. This wasn’t how I wanted him to see me. Not like this. Not when I couldn’t even figure out what I wanted for myself, let alone for us.

I forced myself to pull away even more, taking a shaky breath. I needed to make him understand. He doesn’t get it. He’s too young for all this. He doesn’t deserve my baggage, my drama.

"You don’t have to do this, Luca," I said, my voice cracking. I cursed under my breath, wiping my cheeks again, trying to hide the tears. I was pathetic.

He tilted his head, his hand reaching to push a wet strand of hair away from my face, looking at me like I was something worth understanding. "What do you mean? Do what?"

"This," I gestured between us, my voice barely above a whisper. "I can’t do this. You—" I swallowed hard, trying to find the right words, but they all seemed to die in my throat. "YYou deserve someone who isn’t a mess on good days and a control freak on others. I don’t know what I’m doing, Luca. I’m just… I’m just not ready."

The second I said it, I could feel the wall of self-doubt crashing down again, pounding through my chest. Not ready. Not enough. Too much baggage. I couldn’t help it. It was like I was suffocating under the weight of my own thoughts.

He stepped closer, his hand brushing the side of my face, his touch gentle and warm, like he was grounding me in a way I couldn’t explain.

"Rebecca… none of that matters to me. None of it.

" His thumb wiped away a stray tear that had escaped, and my breath hitched.

"What matters is that you’re here. With me. This is what matters."

I shook my head. "You don’t understand, Luca. I’m too much. I don’t even know what I want half the time, and the rest of the time, I’m too scared of making the wrong choice."

He stared at me, his eyes intense, and for a moment, I felt like he was seeing right through me, like he could hear everything I wasn’t saying, everything I was too afraid to admit.

He didn’t pull away. He didn’t look at me like I was crazy or difficult.

He just kept looking at me with that deep intensity, like I was the only thing in the world.

"Rebecca," he said quietly, almost a whisper. "You’re more than enough."

I let out a dry laugh, but it wasn’t funny. I was starting to feel overwhelmed, the storm inside my head building into something I couldn’t contain. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to feel like this. This can’t be real.

He must have seen it in my eyes—the hesitation, the conflict. And then, without warning, he cupped my face in his hands, leaned down, and pressed his lips to mine.

It was nothing like I could ever imagine. This wasn’t tentative or unsure. This was urgent and desperate in a way that shocked me to my core.

At first, I stood there, frozen, trying to make sense of everything that was happening. But the moment his lips moved against mine, all the noise in my head stopped . All the worry, the fear, the self-doubt—it was gone, drowned out by the force of his kiss.

It was like a floodgate opened, and everything I’d been trying to bury—every bit of desire, of need, of want —came rushing to the surface. My breath caught in my throat as I finally let myself sink into the kiss, my hands reaching up to touch him, my heart racing in ways I couldn’t control.

I could feel the rain starting again, heavier this time, but it didn’t matter. My chest was on fire, my thoughts spinning so fast I couldn’t catch them. I should’ve pulled away, told him this was all crazy, that I couldn’t do this.

But I didn’t.

I kissed him back.

And for that one perfect moment, everything else faded away. There was no age gap, no messy feelings, no doubts. There was just him and me, and for once, I didn’t feel so alone .

When we finally pulled apart, both of us breathless, I could barely look at him. My cheeks were burning, and I didn’t know what to say. I was still fighting it all—fighting my own mind, my own heart.

But Luca, always so perceptive, reached out for me again, his hand resting gently on my shoulder.

"Rebecca," he said, his voice calm but full of conviction, "I don’t care about your past. I care about you. All of you. And I’m not going anywhere."

His words hit me like a ton of bricks, and I could feel the tears threatening to come back, but I swallowed them down. I wasn’t sure what was real anymore, what wasn’t. But I couldn’t deny what was standing right in front of me.

As the rain poured down and the world seemed to vanish, I finally admitted something—I couldn’t keep running from this.

I just didn’t know if I was ready to let myself be found.