Lunar Crest University (Forbidden Fruit)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

FINLEY

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 5TH, 2023

T he flu had me bedridden for an entire week.

I missed a full week of classes—two, if you count the trip to England—which meant I couldn’t go to work, either. Two weeks of being behind on curriculum and money. My parents pay for my apartment while I go to college, but everything else is all me from my shifts at work. I took money from the stash I’d been saving since I’d been working to use toward the trip, which was a giant chunk of it.

It was my worst nightmare come to life. The thought of being behind with everything only created stress on top of not feeling well and, needless to say, I was an exhausting person to be around for the whole seven days.

And yet, Luca was there every single day. He said he didn’t feel good either, hence why he was out of class all week as well, but I think he was lying. Not once did he even remotely look like he didn’t feel good—meanwhile, I was a feverish, snotty, aching mess. I’m not sure what the real reason was for staying, but I was grateful for his presence. The week would’ve been even more insufferable if I had to have gone through it alone.

He had a solution to everything, every problem I created in my head. He just…knew what to say or what to do to help reassure my high-strung mind. Baths, movies, ice cream, or even foot rubs, which I declined arduously despite secretly eating it up every time he insisted on propping my feet in his lap on the couch.

But it was the most he touched me all week. Rubbing my feet or washing me in the bubble bath—that was it.

I’d made an embarrassing amount of attempts to get him to touch me, but it was like he was insistent on taking care of me instead. He diverted the attention to watching movies or couch rotting with any snack you could think of. As much as I loved the domestic way we were existing this past week, I felt like I was in heat. The ache between my legs grew stronger every day I was around him. It was so pitiful, I even tried to satisfy that ache when he would make a medicine or snack run, but something was blocking it. I could never reach it before he got back, and it frustrated me to the point of being the biggest brat on the planet.

Which was only met with more relaxing bubble baths.

The jingle of the front door at Celestial Reads pulls me out of my brain fog and back to the present. Standing up straighter, I force my friendly customer service smile at the man who waltzes inside. There’s a sinking feeling that rests in my stomach as I take him in, and my smile falters just slightly before I regain composure.

He’s tall, and I mean freakishly tall, with muscular arms and thighs the size of tree trunks. His dark hair is buzzed nearly to the scalp, and there are balding spots from obvious scars I don’t care to know the backstory about because I have a feeling it’s not good. His left eyebrow is split from another scar, and I can see the tattoos peeking out of the collar and sleeves of his jacket. He’s the epitome of scary, and goosebumps rise on my neck.

Oscar is cleaning in the back since it’s nearing closing time, so I’m essentially alone with this terrifying man who’s looking at me like I’m his next meal.

“Hi,” I greet. “What can I get for you?”

“What’s your favorite thing on the menu?”

I falter again but push my cheeks up anyway. “Um, I like an iced macchiato, and the blueberry muffins are really good too.”

“I’ll take both.”

He smiles down at me, and it’s the most sinister thing I’ve ever seen. He has silver caps on some of his teeth, and as wide as his grin is, his eyes are empty. Dark. Like a predator looking at its prey. My stomach churns as I nod calmly, ringing his order up on the register.

“That’ll be eight-seventy-six,” I say as steadily as I can, but there’s a vocal fry to my voice that usually isn’t there. I hope he doesn’t take notice.

It’s eerily quiet as he hands me cash, and I process the transaction meticulously—trying so hard to keep my hands from shaking because I don’t want him to see the panic building inside every nerve ending in my body.

“Not very busy tonight,” he comments once my back is turned as I start to make his coffee and pull the muffin from the warmers.

I hum, but it’s almost a squeak. “Yeah, it’s usually pretty dead on Sunday nights. Everyone is out doing other things, I suppose.”

Why did I just say that?

Why in the hell would I just give him that kind of information? My nostrils flare as I try to regulate the breaths coming from my lungs. I turn to place the coffee and muffin on the counter in front of him, careful not to look him directly in the eye as I feel his stare burning into me.

“Thank you,” he says, looking down at my nametag. “Finley.”

“Of course.” I swallow thickly. “Have a good night…”

“Javier.”

My lips twitch with another fake, friendly smile. “Javier.”

“You too.” He picks up his coffee and muffin as he nods his head at me, another odd smile dancing along his lips. “I’ll see you around.”

I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until it bursts from my lips as he finally leaves. Chest heaving, I place my hands on the counter for leverage as I shudder with another round of goosebumps. A few moments pass before I’m able to make my feet move from their frozen spot against the floor, hurrying over toward the door and locking it quickly. Closing time isn’t for another ten minutes, but I don’t care. I’ve had enough for the night.

As I remove my phone from my pocket, my fingers shake as I text Luca.

Me

You’re still picking me up tonight, right?

Luca

Yes. Are you okay?

Me

I didn’t see you outside, just wanted to make sure.

Luca

Look again.

My head lifts to peek outside once more, and my shoulders sag in relief to see Luca’s car parked on the curb directly in front of the door. It’s too dark out to see through his tinted windows, but I raise my hand to send him a little wave anyway as my phone lights up with another message.

Luca

You never answered my question.

Me

Sorry. Yes, I’m okay.

Luca

You think I don’t know when you’re lying?

A knock against the glass door makes me yelp softly, clutching my phone to my chest as I yank my head up to see Luca standing on the other side. He’s wearing his usual professor attire: slacks, a button-up, and a tie to match. My heart races as I sigh, pressing a palm to my forehead as I give him a pointed look.

“Let me in.” His voice is muffled.

“We’re about to close?—”

“Let me in, Finley.”

Glancing over my shoulder, I half-expect to see Oscar emerging from the back to see what all the noise is, but when he doesn’t, I relax. With a reluctant groan, I unlock the door and pull it open just enough for him to squeeze through before closing and locking it again. His eyes follow my movements warily as he crosses his burly arms over his chest.

“What happened?” he asks loudly, and I quickly shush him.

“Not too loud,” I whisper. “You’ll make Oscar come out here, and he doesn’t like anyone to be in here once the doors are locked.”

“I don’t give a fuck what Oscar?—”

“Luca,” I urge, putting my hand on his arm. “ Please .”

He growls lowly as he heaves a sigh.

“Nothing happened,” I continue after I know he’s calm. “Just some weird guy, that’s all. But that’s normal. It happens.”

His thick brows knit together as he cocks his head down at me, and his arms drop from his chest to dangle by his sides as he steps closer to me. “What are you talking about? What guy?”

I wave him off. “ Nothing , Luca. Seriously. I just thought he was strange, but it’s fine. I’m fine, and you need to wait for me outside. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

“Like fucking hell.”

“You’re acting cra?—”

“What did he look like?” he interrupts me.

I blink slowly as I gape up at him. Why is he pushing this so hard? He looks like I’ve just told him I was almost kidnapped or something, with the way his pupils dilate and his chest rises and falls in swift breaths. The red flags are flying again, and yet, I’m not as alarmed as I probably should be. It’s weird, the effect his presence has on me. It’s almost numbing. Nothing bothers me nearly as much as it should when I’m around him, but I can’t bring myself to care. It’s like I instinctively avoid anything that could potentially result in him… running .

He’s a flight risk.

As much fun as we’ve had together and as wrapped around his finger as I appear to be, I still think he’d take any chance to end this. He’s waiting on the other shoe to drop, for any sign he should break this off before something happens to both of us.

I’m naive, but I’m not blind.

“Luca,” I say. “What is going on? Why are you so worried about this?”

“Answer the question. What did he look like?”

The sinking feeling in my stomach is back again as I gulp. “He was really tall? Tattoos. Lots of scars. He even had one that?—”

“Split his eyebrow,” Luca grits out through his teeth.

“Yeah,” I breathe.

How on Earth could he possibly know that?

There’s no way he could know that—not unless he… Oh my God. The realization singes me all the way down to the bone, and the breath depletes in my lungs. I stumble backward as I watch him grow more irate, my eyes widening as I blink back the water forming in them. It’s all connected to the kind of work he didn’t want to tell me about, the work that involved Rosco and God knows what else on top of that.

“You know him?” I squeak.

Luca lifts his dark gaze to meet mine, and his lips purse slightly as he gnaws at the inside of his mouth. His nostrils flare as he puts his hands on his hips, pacing back and forth unsteadily before taking his phone from his pocket, dialing a number, and putting it to his ear.

“I’ll meet you in the car.”

And before I can protest, he’s unlocking the door and slipping back outside as he talks to someone on the other end of the phone.

No.

No. No. No.

That guy knows my name. I told him that Sundays aren’t busy at the café. I very stupidly gave him that information, and for all I know, he could be just like Rosco. Something in my gut tells me he is worse, what with the way Luca just reacted.

Leaning forward, I prop my hands on my knees as the panic consumes me. My hair cascades around my face as I focus on breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth, but my heart is beating faster than it’s taking me to get my breathing under control. Tiny dark spots speckle my vision, and my ears start to ring as the heat creeps up my neck.

I’m going to pass out.

I’m going to pass out and?—

“Finley?”

Is that Oscar’s voice?

“What’s wrong with you, girl?” His voice sounds far away.

I try to respond, but nothing comes out. The speckles turn into tunnel vision as I hear someone pounding on the front door. More noise ensues, but I can’t make out what’s going on around me, because everything finally goes black.