Lunar Crest University (Forbidden Fruit)

Chapter Twenty-Three

FINLEY

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 24TH, 2023

P icking at the hem of my plaid skirt, I toe at the strange, black and white patterned carpet in the hallway outside of my hotel room with my pumps. Touring Jane Austen’s home is on the itinerary today, and Genevieve was supposed to be out here fifteen minutes ago so we could meet Luca in the lobby downstairs, but it has been oddly quiet in her room.

With a huff of air through my lips, I hesitantly approach her door, lifting my hand feebly to rap my knuckles against the wood.

“Genevieve?” I call out softly.

It’s silent for a few moments before the door finally cracks open, and I see her peeking out at me. She looks terrible—she’s wearing a hoodie that looks like it’s swallowing her whole, the bags underneath her eyes are concerningly dark, and the tip of her nose is red. Shooting me a weak glare, she sniffles.

“Oh no,” I whisper. “Are you okay?”

“Do I look okay?”

I bite at the inside of my lip. “Do you need me to grab you anything? Medicine?”

She shakes her head, looking at me pointedly. “You’ve done enough by keeping me up all night with your sexcapades. I’m happy for you, really, but tell him to stuff a sock in your mouth next time. Please .”

A strangled breath leaves my lungs at her words as I freeze. The worst-case scenario runs through my head: she knows it’s him. She knows about us . We’re screwed. Goosebumps travel across my skin, and shivers ripple down my spine at the thought. A pathetic attempt at saving this tries to escape my lips, but Genevieve closes the door in my face before I can even try.

Shit.

I can hear my heartbeat in my ears, and my hands start to shake from the adrenaline that’s pumping through my veins. What if she knows? What if she tells someone about us? As pitiful as it sounds, I’m more worried about what will happen to Luca if this gets out, worried about what he’ll say if he knows that someone possibly found out about our…situation. Would it be over?

Of course, it would.

But I can’t fret about it right now, because I’m already late meeting him in the lobby. I can’t fret because we’re in England, about to tour Jane Austen’s house, and…it’s just going to be me and Luca. We have an entire day to ourselves now. We could be normal , even if it's just for one day. I’ll give myself this day and fret about Genevieve tomorrow.

Straightening my shoulders, I swallow the thick lump in my throat as I twist on my heel to make my way toward the stairs and down to the first floor. My steps are meticulous as I quickly try to clear my head, not wanting him to see the worry etched on my face.

Luca stands near the front desk with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his brown slacks, looking drool-worthy, as usual. His hair has grown out since I first met him, curlier than ever, with some strands pushed behind his ear. Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, he lifts his head just as I reach the bottom step, and the corner of his lips twitch.

“Genevieve is sick,” I tell him as I approach.

He frowns, his eyes trailing from my head to my toes. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.”

“Good,” he says.

“Yeah.”

My cheeks warm as he smirks down at me, and I wonder if he’s having the same thought running through his mind. I know I should be worrying about everything around us crumbling beneath our feet, but all I can think about is last night. My body aches in all the right places. Places where his hands, his mouth, and his?—

“Reminiscing, Princesa ?”

“About what?” I quip softly, my brow quirking.

Luca steps closer, pulling his hands from his pockets and reaching up to brush my hair behind my shoulders. “Cheeky this morning, sí ? Did I not punish you enough last night?”

Pressing my lips together to keep from laughing, I shake my head innocently.

“You are bad .” He twists me around in one swift movement, facing me toward the front entrance as he discreetly swats at my ass. “We’re already late. The cab is outside waiting for us. Stop distracting me.”

With a small giggle, I hurry out of the entrance with him right on my heels. His hand finds mine, interlocking our fingers as he guides me to our cab. I watch as he opens the door for us, motioning for me to get inside first. The disappointment flickers in my chest as he lets go of my hand, but I ignore it as I climb into the cab, scooting across the seat as he gets in behind me. My pulse jumps when his hand finds my thigh, squeezing gently.

No one knows us here, and Genevieve is in her hotel room. For the first time, we can just be . We can co-exist without worrying about anyone seeing us.

“Are you excited?” I ask softly, leaning against his shoulder as I peek up at him.

“For what?” The amusement is prevalent in his eyes as he lowers his head and pecks my lips. “Touring Jane Austen’s home?”

“And spending time with me?”

I hope I don’t sound as pathetic as I feel saying that.

His thumb rubs against my stockings. “ Por supuesto .”

I blink up at him with a sheepish smile, waiting.

“Of course,” he translates after a moment.

His hand never leaves my thigh for the entire ride, which is just shy of two hours long. He reads from Persuasion to keep us occupied, and I’m fully convinced that it’s the hottest thing a man could ever do. I eventually swing my legs into his lap and rest my head against his shoulder as I listen to the soothing sound of his voice.

The anxiety imprinted deep in my bones that has been there practically since birth keeps reminding me that this exhilarating feeling is only temporary. This domesticated feeling can’t last. Our trip will come to an end, and we’ll have to go back to Lunar Crest. Back to reality.

The reality where Genevieve knows about us.

Don’t think about it now.

Jane Austen’s home is a beautiful brick cottage with white-paneled windows and obvious weathering, but it adds to the feel of the greenery and flowers around it. It’s a museum now, but it’s still incredible. To even be standing in the very place where she wrote her most beloved novels is astounding. If this was the only thing we did for the entire trip, I could go home content.

The group size for our tour is larger than I expected, allowing Luca and I to linger in the back where no one can pay any attention to us. We can talk to each other on and off while also stopping to inspect each room without anyone rushing us or listening in.

“What’s your favorite Jane Austen book?” I ask him as we walk through the house, my voice soft so no one can hear.

“ Persuasion .”

Pleased with his answer, I nod my head with a tiny smile. It makes sense that it’s his favorite since he read it to me on the way here.

He read me his favorite Jane Austen book.

“And I’m guessing yours is Pride and Prejudice ?” he continues.

I narrow my eyes back over my shoulder at him. “What makes you think that?”

“It’s every girl’s favorite.”

Twirling around, I cross my arms over my chest. “Every girl, huh?”

The group keeps walking, but I stand still as I peek up at him. His hands find my hips, turning me around and guiding me through the doorway to catch up with everyone else as I stifle a giggle. Once again, my stomach drops as he lets go of me, but I steady myself with a deep breath as I try to pay attention to what the tour guide is saying.

“ It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of good fortune… ” Luca’s voice whispers next to my ear, and the hairs on my neck prick as his breath cascades across my skin. “ Must be in want of a wife .”

He’s quoting the book. Why does my heart lurch in my chest at that?

I turn my head slightly without looking up at him. “Impressive.”

As the tour guide takes us up the wooden stairs, I can feel the warmth radiating off his body from how close he is to me. His fingertips graze mine every so often with each step, and his chest brushes against my back as we reach the top. I shudder with excitement.

“ You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.”

His low voice in my ear sends an electric shiver down my spine. My nipples harden beneath my bra as his breath tickles my neck.

“ In vain, I have struggled ,” he whispers.

I can’t even try to hear what the tour guide is saying anymore.

“ It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. ”

Is there anything hotter than someone quoting Mr. Darcy? From the way my heart is racing inside my chest or the way my cold skin is pricking with sweat, the answer is quite clear. My mind is reeling as his fingers caress my wrist, and my knees wobble as I focus on maintaining what little composure I have left.

“ You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire… ” He trails off, bumping his chest into my back once more.

Inhaling shakily, I peer up at him tentatively through my lashes. He had to have known the rest of that sentence, right? Why would he quote that one? There is no way Luca Serrano has feelings for me. He had to have said it because he was trying to spike my blood pressure. I mean, is it that obvious what he does to me?

Despite my insides feeling like they’re melting, I steel my spine as I raise a single eyebrow at him.

“Are you sure Pride and Prejudice isn’t your favorite?”

The smile I receive is devastating. How am I supposed to function properly when he smiles at me like that? How am I supposed to think of this as just some…forbidden, hot sex with my professor? How ? He makes every fiber of my being short-circuit when his grumpy facade crumbles and a smile slips through like it’s made just for me. I hope it is.

Shit. Shit.

The inevitable end of us is going to absolutely break my heart.