Page 67 of Their Reckless Thief (The Below #1)

Her chest rose and fell faster now, and fuck, she had to feel it too. This pull between us. This madness.

I moved lower, my fingers tracing a line over her abdomen as I applied the salve to the cuts there. She tensed under my touch, and when I looked up, heat and hunger blazed in her eyes.

Fuck. I was so close to losing it.

I had to end this. I had to get her out of there before I crossed a line.

Finally, I finished with the last of her wounds, and she stood up, shaky but with more composure than I had. She turned to put her clothes back on, and I cursed myself for how badly I wanted to rip them right back off. She looked over her shoulder at me, half-dressed, and raised an eyebrow.

“You just going to sit there?”

I glanced down at the very obvious bulge in my pants and shook my head. “I, uh… I can’t quite stand yet.”

Her lips twitched, then, to my absolute fucking horror, she blushed. She blushed, and it was the most adorable, infuriating thing I’d ever seen.

Fuck my life.

She finally turned, pulling her shirt over her head and giving me just enough time to pull my shit together. As much as I wanted her, as much as the sight of her naked skin was burned into my mind, this wasn’t the time. It never would be. I couldn’t let it be.

“I’m going to go find Vivian,” she said, her voice more casual than I expected, like we hadn’t just shared a moment that was one step away from a disaster… or perfection.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. When she paused at the door and glanced back, her eyes met mine one last time, and something unspoken passed between us.

Before I could figure out what it was, she was gone, leaving me alone in the room with nothing but the lingering scent of her and the ache in my body that refused to go away.

The soft murmur of the television reached my ears as I walked past the living room.

Vivian and Celeste were on the couch, the flickering light of the screen framing their silhouettes.

Celeste had her legs tucked beneath her, and Vivian leaned back with an arm draped lazily across the cushions.

They were laughing softly, and the sound eased me. It was rare to hear them so relaxed.

I had intended to keep walking—to retreat to the solitude of my room and collapse into bed—but something made me pause. Maybe it was the faint tug of curiosity, or the fact that I hadn’t heard Celeste laugh like that in days. Still, I knew better than to linger.

“I’m going to get some sleep,” I said.

Celeste’s head whipped toward me. In an instant, she was on her feet, crossing the room with boundless energy that caught me off guard. Before I could step back, her hands were gripping mine, her touch startling in its warmth. I tensed immediately, every instinct screaming at me to pull away.

“Luca,” she said, her eyes wide and earnest as she looked up at me. “Don’t go to bed yet. Come on, sit with us for a bit. It’s tradition.”

“What tradition?” I asked, my tone sharper than I intended. Her sudden proximity had me on edge, and the words came out more defensively.

“Viv and I like to wind down with a show after a job when we can. It’s how we de-stress. You know, before the next crisis inevitably shows up.” Her fingers tightened on mine, her expression imploring. “Just one episode. Please?”

I hesitated, glancing toward the couch where Vivian was watching us with a raised eyebrow, clearly amused. “I don’t?—”

“Please.” Celeste dragged out the word like it was her secret weapon. She tugged gently at my hands, and despite every ounce of me wanting to resist, I sighed and nodded curtly.

“Fine,” I muttered. “But just one.”

Her face lit up like I’d just gifted her the moon. She practically skipped back to the couch, motioning for me to follow.

“What are we watching?” I asked, already regretting my decision. The colors were loud, the voices even louder, and there was some kind of dramatic argument happening over… I wasn’t even sure what.

Vivian grinned at me, a mix of amusement and pity. “Oh, just some classic reality TV gold. Love, betrayal, horrible decisions. You know, the works.”

Celeste chimed in, clearly excited about the nonsense she was about to force into my brain.

“Yeah, so this guy is dating three different girls at the same time, but they all know about it and are living in the same house. They have to compete for his attention, and it’s absolutely ridiculous. You’re gonna love it.”

I blinked. What the fuck?

I opened my mouth to protest, to say something about how this show sounded like the equivalent of setting my brain on fire, but the way she was looking at me, so expectant, like she thought this would be fun for me…

I swallowed my words and grunted instead. “Sounds awful.”

“You have no idea,” Vivian added with a chuckle, clearly enjoying my discomfort. She sat across the room with her legs tucked up in her seat, fully aware of the absurdity of the situation.

Despite myself, I stayed. I watched. At first, I tried to remain detached, my eyes on the screen but my mind far away.

It had only been a few minutes, but this show was rotting my brain by the second.

There was no plot, just vapid arguments, ridiculous decisions, and pure chaos.

And yet, somehow, I found myself stuck there, too far in to leave without making a scene.

Celeste stretched out until her head rested in my lap.

My body tensed instantly, a flash of heat spreading through me at the unexpected contact.

She made it look so casual, like this was nothing.

Meanwhile, every cell in my body screamed at me to move…

to put more distance between us. I should’ve gotten up, walked away, made some excuse to leave the room.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I stayed frozen in place, staring at her as she settled in, her hair falling against my thigh.

Vivian caught my eye from across the room, raising an eyebrow and giving me a smug look, like she knew exactly what I was going through.

The “good luck” expression. The one that said Yeah, you’re screwed, buddy.

I wanted to snap something back at her, but my focus shifted.

Celeste’s breathing had evened out, and I could tell she was drifting off.

Her soft exhale brushed against my leg, and my hand moved on its own.

I started playing with her hair, gently twisting the strands between my fingers, letting the silky feel of the blonde strands calm the tension running through me.

For some reason, the world felt quieter like this. Less chaotic, less dangerous. Even with the idiocy of whatever reality-show disaster was unfolding on the screen, there was something peaceful about the moment.

Celeste stirred slightly but didn’t wake, curling closer to me. She was so relaxed that it almost made me jealous of her ability to trust, to be vulnerable—with me of all people. How was that even possible?

Minutes ticked by, though it felt like hours. The nonsense on the TV blurred into the background. I kept my hand in her hair, soothing, stroking, keeping the connection between us that I didn’t want to acknowledge but also couldn’t bring myself to break.

When the door creaked open, I barely noticed at first, but Dorian’s voice pulled me out of the trance I’d been caught in. “What the hell is this?”

I looked up, startled to realize that both he and Vincenzo were standing there, staring at the scene in front of them.

Two sleeping girls, one sprawled across the couch, the other curled in my lap.

I, the supposedly distant, impenetrable Luca, was sitting there like some babysitter watching trash TV with a soft look on my face.

I didn’t respond immediately, and that silence was all Dorian needed to burst out laughing. “Oh man, you really are a softie, aren’t you?”

Vincenzo crossed his arms, his gaze lingering on Celeste, but then he looked at me. His expression was harder to read, somewhere between curiosity and mild amusement. “I didn’t think you’d be the type to get into this kind of… entertainment.”

I shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “Not by choice.”

Dorian took a few steps forward, eyeing the TV with a disgusted look. “What is this? Some sort of modern-day torture?”

Vivian stirred from the other end of the couch, shooting him a playful smirk before rising to head to her bed.

My attention kept drifting back to Celeste, her head still nestled in my lap, peaceful and unaware of the world around her. Her presence was a problem, a complication. Yet somehow, it didn’t feel like that right now.

It felt... good.

Maybe too good.