Page 93 of Ruined
I blinked. “Luca?—”
He headed to the door. “I’ll be back later.”
He walked out, the door clicking shut behind him.
I stood there, my heart pounding. The taste of him lingered on my lips, and the ache in my chest deepened.
It was too late for me. I was already his.
TWENTY-TWO
DOMINIC
Luca disappeared forthree days.
I had no fucking idea where he’d gone, and I alternated between blind panic and rage. He only sent me two messages. Three days of sparse texts and pacing Luca’s apartment. I’d told myself I wasn’t going to chase him. That he’d come back when he was ready. Each hour that ticked by made it harder to believe my own bullshit.
A party was the perfect excuse to get out of my own head. A chance to be around people who weren’t ignoring me. Instead I walked into the bar to find Luca with Santino. I’d been losing my mind for three days, and he shows up in a bar.
Three fucking days.
The drink in my hand did nothing to dull the edge. I’d planted myself at the bar, far enough to avoid the temptation of storming over there and dragging him into a private room.
I drummed my fingers against the glass, letting the low thrum of the party fill my ears as I watched him. His gaze flicked to mine. Was he finally going to come over?
Nope. He turned right back to Santino.
The stool next to me creaked.
Maria slid in beside me, dressed in a sequined gown. “You’re brooding. That’s new.”
“And you’re still out here breaking hearts.”
Maria snorted. “What’re you up to, Dom?”
“Enjoying the view.” I let my eyes rake over her, fully aware Luca would see us. “You’re beautiful tonight.”
Her brow arched. “Since when do you flirt with women?”
“What can I say? You’re special.”
She laughed. “What’s this really about?”
“Can’t a guy give a compliment without getting grilled?”
“I’m flattered, but let’s not pretend I’m your type. You’ve got a reputation, and it doesn’t involve women.”
“Maybe I’ve broadened my horizons.” My gaze flicked to Luca, who’d finally looked at me. “You do look stunning tonight.”
She tilted her head. “Luca never mentioned how charming you are.”
“He talks about me?”
She shrugged. “We don’t talk much.”
“Too busy doing other things?”
Her smile turned sly. “You could say that.”