Page 64 of Until August

I wouldn’t have even considered it if August had come back into my life two years ago. Then, my grief had been too raw and all-consuming. And now it was still there, but it didn’t have claws and teeth anymore. Instead, it was a dull ache, and scars were forming where there once had been an open wound.

A knock sounded on my window, and I jumped, my hand flying to my heart.

I rolled down my window and scowled at Luca. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What the hell areyoudoing?” He held up his hands. “Don’t answer that. I don’t wanna know.”

“I’m just hanging out in my car, taking a little breather.” No idea why I was sitting in my parked car, but here we were.

“What the fuck are you listening to?”

I snatched up my phone and turned off the music just as the final chords of “The Boxer” played. The soundtrack for my contemplation. “It’s Mumford & Sons.” As if I listened to that band every day. But their cover version was good, and I didn’t have to defend myself or my music choices to my brother. “What do you need?”

He rubbed the back of his neck and bit his lip. “Okay, hear me out. You have a big-ass house, and you don’t exactly pay me a shitload of money, so I need a place to crash for a while.”

I stared at him. “You want to move in with me?”

“Yeah. It’ll just be for a while. You’ll barely know I’m there.”

Sure, I wouldn’t. Luca was a slob. He currently shared a house with a bunch of other guys, and the last time I visited, I couldn’t even see the floor of his room.

Not to mention that he partied a lot, and his place was a revolving door of girls. My brother was a hit-and-quit-it kind of guy. “Nope. No way.”

“Come on, Nic. I’ll stay out of your hair. Promise.”

“I thought you liked your independence.” Translation: I need privacy, especially now that I’m having sex with my sous chef.

Not that I would have sex with August in the bed I’d shared with Cruz… oh, my God. This was a disaster. I was a terrible person. A terrible person who had no intention of giving up sex with August.

But Luca would figure it out, and I didn’t want him getting all up in my business.

“I do. But I had an issue with one of my housemates,” he admitted.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “What kind of issue?”

“No biggie. But things are a bit tense right now.” My eyes narrowed to slits. He rolled his eyes. “My housemates put it to a vote, and they evicted me,” he said with a shrug.

“It sounds like the Big Brother house.”

“Not far off,” he muttered.

“What did you do? Sleep with someone’s girlfriend?” I joked. He winced, and my eyes widened. “You ass.” I leaned out my window and smacked his arm. He jumped back from my car, so I couldn’t inflict more damage. “Seriously?”

He grabbed the back of his neck, his eyes on the ground, and that was all the answer I needed. Luca had never been able to lie to my face.

“Oh, my god, Luca. You’re such a hound dog. I can’t believe you.”

He snorted. “You’re one to talk.”

My eyes narrowed on him again. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” He held up his hands. “I don’t want to get involved. Just let me move in. I already spoke to the rents, and they think it’s a great idea.”

My jaw dropped. “You… what?”

He smirked when my phone rang. The Benedetti hotline. I checked the screen, confirming it was my mother. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. “You are such an asshole.” Despite myself, a laugh burst out of me.

“Love you too, sis.” He gave me the “I love you” hand gesture. “I’ll bring my stuff over after work tonight.”